Hooters and Other Tales of Woe

Friendsgiving

2011-11-23T08:14:00.003-05:00

Tonight I am hosting Friendsgiving. Hells to the yeah. I am so excited I want to pee my pants.

I love Thanksgiving. The food, the people, the football, the music, the fact that my birthday and Baby Jesus' is right around the corner. The countdown to my vacation. The food. The food. The food.

OK. Maybe I am going a little bit overboard on the food, but I don't fuckingthinkso. I adore cooking. Especially for a large group of people. And this year, I will have about a dozen people crammed into my tiny condo. We will be laughing and eating and drinking and listening to music. But most of all, we will be eating. Below is a list of what I am making for tonight's Friendsgiving dinner:

Turkey - this little fellow cost more a pound than gas does a gallon. He was hand fed vegetarian food, free-range raised and I think they tucked him in at night on a golden fucking blanket. But I really believe in making an effort to feed my friends and family a more organic meal, so Bob Marley better fucking be worth it! More on the name later.
Gravy - this is the nectar of the gods. Gravy makes anything better. Try it. Gravy on meat, vegetables, ice cream, pudding. You name it. I make it from scratch from the turkey juices and slow simmer it for over an hour.
Stuffing - Or dressing depending what part of the country you're from. I make this as well. That stove top stuff freaks me out. But I will let you in on a little secret. I don't like it and I will only eat it if it's super duper crunchy. And covered in gravy.
Mashed Potatoes - non lumpy!!!! People in the midwest seem to pride themselves on lumpy potatoes. They use this strange hand tool called a ricer (which would make more sense if it were used on rice) to smoosh and smash their taters until the are the consistency of wet dog food. Gross. I peeled 10 pounds of potatoes last night and if there is a lump in them, I will shank the first person who points it out. I have a secret family trick that makes them very creamy. And we put gravy all over them.
Sweet Potatoes - can't stand 'em. But I am making a shitload. I don't mash these. I slice them up and candy them with a ton of butter and brown sugar. Then I put the little marshmallows on top.
Green Bean Casserole - I might be the only person in my family who actually likes it. But fuck you all because I am making dinner, so we are having it damn it. However, since I LOATH mushrooms and refuse to eat them, I use cream of celery soup in it instead. Try it. It's better that way. Gospel.
Butternut Squash Casserole - this shit is gold. A legend in my family. I have never met a person who doesn't love it. It's almost like a desert. It takes forever to make, but it's totally worth it. My family is so jealous that I don't ship it out to them every holiday. E-mail me if you want the recipe. It's sick!!!!
Asparagus - I guess you have to have something that's not full of cream or sugar. So I roast it. But them I put gravy on it. Mmmmmmmmmmmm. Gravy.
Cranberries - This is the only thing that I don't make pretty much from scratch. I love this crap from a can. In fact, I leave the little ripples in it from the side of the can and just serve the whole lump on a plate.
Appetizers - fresh fruit with homemade dip, veggies and dip, veggie pizza and hummus and pita. I like to make sure there is plenty of food.
Champagne - I always drink champagne when I am cooking on the holidays. It makes me feel special. Especially the cheap shit.

So, I'm sure I forgot some stuff, but you get the idea.

Now on to the turkey. We name our turkey every year. It's tradition. And usually something completely un-PC. So this year we named him Bob Marley. We even have a rasta dread hat for him and everything. And he has his own theme song - "No turkey, no cry. Noooooooo turkey, no cry."

I'm sure there will be plenty of one-liners after tonight.

And yes, I am aware that TOMORROW is Thanksgiving. But tonight is Friendsgiving and I am so thankful for everything that my friends and family have done for me this year.

Smooches!!!!

Autumn

I Think I'm Ready

2011-10-16T11:19:00.003-04:00

I've spent the last six months flying pretty much solo. It's not that I haven't dated, but I haven't been in a relationship. And I realize now that there are some very specific things that I miss about having a special someone in my life.

1. Holding hands. I know it sounds cheesy - especially coming from moi - but I love the feeling I get when he grabs my hand and holds it in his.

2. Lazy Sundays. Now that football season is in full swing, I am realizing how much I miss waking up with someone on a Sunday morning, making breakfast and cuddling up on the couch to watch the games.

3. Having someone that will just be there for me when I'm having a bad day. There are times when I really think that I am going to explode if I don't let it out. I want to be able to talk to someone about that.

4. Compassion. Even if I'm wrong, I really miss having someone in my corner no matter what I do or say.

5. Romance. God do I ever miss romance. And if you tell anyone about this, I will hunt you down and beat you like a rabid dog. But I really, really miss that. Knowing that someone else is thinking about me and just calls or texts me to say so is such a great feeling to have.

6. Fireplaces, patios and car rides.

7. Having faith in someone else. I've lost a lot of faith over the last few years. Because of the things that I have been through - some of my own doing, some not - I have an even harder time trusting people. I miss being able to let down my guard long enough to let someone else step in and take care of me for once.

8. Making dinner. I love to cook. In fact, in another place and time, that might have been a vocation for me. But I do miss making dinner with or for a special someone. Not that cooking for my kids isn't great, but there is definitely something amazing about putting together a special meal for a special person and the feeling you get when they love it.

9. Massages. On both sides. I love to take care of someone and make them feel just a little bit better after a long day. I also won't say no if they want to give me a back rub as well.

10. Having a partner. Just knowing that there is someone waiting to spend time with me at the end of a long day...

So now, I think I might be ready again. I am not 100% positive, because I think I still have some healing to do, but I do know that if that special someone comes along, I'm not going to run in the other direction the way I have been doing. I've spent a lot of time with friends and family these days. Putting into perspective my priorities and goals in life has become a focus for me. Knowing that I am making some changes in myself to be a better person overall has helped me open up to all of the possibilities that life has to offer.

Don't misunderstand me though. I am not going to settle for Mr. right now just to have companionship. I would rather be alone than settle. Never again. But neither am I going to close myself off from the option of being with someone. It just has to be the right person for me.. I'm not looking, but if he's out there then maybe the universe will bring us together.

Things Left Unsaid

2011-10-06T07:00:00.003-04:00

This is ripped directly from Adam's site, but I loved it so much, I had to do it here.

"Sometimes it's about the things we can't say. Whether it's because we're not brave enough, or just because the opportunity has passed, these unspoken phrases, positive or negative, supportive or detracting, reminiscent or in hindsight, deserve to be heard."

I still blame you for her death. If I could, I would have you locked in jail without the possibility of parole. I try not to, but I hope you rot in hell for your evil deeds.

I'm sick of being a friend of convenience to you. You only call me when you need something and are never there for me when I need you in return.

Please stop posting horrible things about people on FaceBook. You are the most negative person I know.

You're so much more amazing than you will ever let yourself believe. I mean every word that I say to you and hope that one day you will understand that I speak the truth.

I feel like you abandoned me and you don't have any idea. You never will.

You're so much better than the way you behave.

I never liked you. At all. I think your stupidity is singularly overwhelming to anyone who spends more than 10 minutes in your presence.

Stop being so judgemental. Not everyone has to live in this world by YOUR standards. It's annoying to everyone who knows you.

You deserve better than him.

Your existence makes me uncomfortable and I am scared of you.

Your children hate you.

Every time I see your name, I think about you and wonder what might have been.

You hurt someone I love so badly that I never thought he would be whole again. I think you are a selfish asshole who ignores everyone else's feelings for the sake of your own. And? You live in a bubble that other people are all too willing to keep around you. I don't even know why that is.

I stopped calling you because I knew you were going to die soon and I couldn't bring myself to see that happen to someone else I cared about. I'm so sorry I was weak.

You fill the people around you with joy and wonder. You are the strongest person that I know and my heart breaks for your suffering.

These are just some of the things I've been wanting to say. I'm kind of brain dead this week, but there is so much going on that I can't even process all of it.

Ending The Cycle of Violence

2011-08-15T00:39:00.003-04:00

As I lay here in my bed tonight, the largest thought looming in my mind is one of violence. This last week, the world lost yet another woman to domestic violence. A girl I went to high school with, but someone that I did not know. A woman with a child. A woman my exact age was viciously murdered by her husband. A man that stood in front of God and made vows to protect and love and cherish her stabbed her to death in their home. When asked why he did it, he responded that he was sick of her shit.

Now there is a small child without either one of his parents. A little boy who will have to grow up knowing that not only did he lose his mother too soon, but the story behind the loss. He will never again be able to hold her hand or have her read him a bedtime story or hear her voice when he wakes up in the morning. His children will never know the woman who would have been their grandmother. Parents have lost their child. Friends have lost someone who was by all accounts a bright light in their life.

And why? For what? When will the madness end?

Another friend was recently called out to help someone who had been savagely beaten by her boyfriend. A man that she thought she could trust put her in the hospital. Was there a sign of the monster behind the mask? Was there a hint that he wasn't everything that he purported himself to be when they started dating? Did she think that a few weeks later she would end up with broken bones, bruises and cuts and scars on the inside that will probably last her a lifetime.

This has to stop. I don't want my own daughter to ever have to go through pain and agony at the hands of someone who claims to love her while he is putting bruises on her face or pushing her down a flight of stairs. And maybe the only thing that I can do is to write about it, but at least it's a start. A beginning.

So here is my story. A story that begins the first time I remember being hurt by a man. I was about seven years old and my sister and I were picking blackberries by the driveway to the house we lived in at the time. As punishment, I was beaten with a leather belt until I could no longer stand. By my stepfather. Why? I don't know. But it didn't end there. For years, we were hit. Abused. Hurt. As a sophomore in high school, I was once hit so hard with a two by four that I ended up in the emergency room because he almost broke my arm with it. By the time I was a junior, I had enough. The last time he came after me, I kicked him in the jaw and almost broke it. I told him that if he ever touched me again, I would have him put in jail. I don't know where I found the strength to do that. I was not only terrified of him, but I was afraid of what he would do to other members of my family. I wish I could say that it was divine inspiration, but I think that at that point in my life, I didn't really care if I lived or died anymore. I just knew that I couldn't live every day being afraid.

Since then, it would be nice to be able to say that I broke the cycle, but that would be a lie. I have been physically, mentally and emotionally abused by men who have professed to love me. The latter two most recently. And I thought that it was my fault. I let my children see me cry over a man that I thought loved me. But how can someone love you and call you a whore and a slut and a bitch and any other combination of names that there are out there? How could I, an intelligent successful, business-savvy woman allow a man to dictate my entire life to me? How did I fall in that trap again?

Not only did I fall, but I bought the bullshit hook, line and sinker. I allowed someone else to make me feel inadequate. I began to question myself. I wondered if I really was the person that he made me out to be when he was angry with me. I distanced myself from my friends and family and didn't tell them about all of the bad things because I was so embarrassed by them. I was made to feel weak and impotent. Like the world held nothing but bad things for me without him in it. That I wasn't able to stand on my own two feet. That I shouldn't really have this friend or that in my life. That I shouldn't go do that because it reflected poorly on him. That I should be with him every second of every day. That he was the only person I needed. Not my friends or my family.

While I did have moments of sanity, it seemed like every time I started to draw away and get out, I would get reeled right back in. I would fall for the lines. I would forgive him what really wasn't his fault in the first place. After all, how could I be compassionate and not be forgiving? How could I hold someone's childhood against him? All of the lines and explanations served to undermine my own convictions and strengthen his position.

But in the end, I finally severed those ties. I stopped the cycle of forgiving someone for something that they never regretted in the first place. I stopped allowing myself to be used as an emotional punching bag. Of course it was two years, a lot of words and emotions, a kick to my dog and the threatened murder of another pet later, but it finally sank in that I had to get out. And really there is so much here that is better left unsaid. Things that I don't even want to write about. Feelings that I just can't let out yet because I don't want them to overwhelm me.

When I tell women to get out, I mean GET OUT!!!! If you are afraid, trust those instincts. Don't become another statistic. Be strong. Know that you really can turn to your friends and family without being ashamed. There are places that you can go for help. And you can always call 1-800-799-SAFE. Especially if you think your computer use is being monitored.

I did turn to friends. They have held me while I have cried and had panic attacks. They have talked me through those tears and fears and doubts and tough times. And they have reassured me that I am strong. It doesn't matter that I wasn't physically abused this time. For me, I already knew I could survive the physical abuse. It was the mental and emotional abuse that I didn't know how to walk away from. And I think that predators sense your biggest weaknesses and fears and use them to their own advantage.

There are GOOD MEN out there. I am not bitter. Nor do I think that every man is evil. Some of the greatest people in my life are men. They are amazing friends, brothers, fathers and husbands. They are not perfect, but they are good. I have seen the men in my life grow over the years. I have seen them overcome abuse in their own lives and I have seen them break the cycle as well.

I haven't cited anything that I have discussed, not because I don't want the attention turned in that direction, but because this is where I come to share my feelings. Not to intrude on the private mourning time of others.

Just know, that a woman is not always stupid for not getting out. It's easy to stand on the outside and judge her. It's a lot harder to hold her hand and help pick up the pieces when she breaks.

So to all of the wonderful people out there who have helped a loved one through a time like this, I say thank you. Thank you for being able to put your own feelings aside and stand by someone through the toughest time in their life.

Love and light,

Autumn

Daily Annoyances

2011-08-10T23:42:00.002-04:00

I am supremely annoyed today. With people. Ignorant, rude people who have no sense of responsibility or self control.

I always say that people tend to mistake my kindness for weakness, but if I know one thing, it is that I AM NOT WEAK! When my back is to the wall, I will and do stand up for myself. I try my best to be a good friend and to accommodate people. Especially now when I have plenty of time on my hands and a lot of flexibility in my personal life. But when people constantly abuse my good nature without apology, I start to get ticked off. I don't have time in my life for fools or users. People who constantly take from me and never give anything back.

Now don't get me wrong. I don't expect a lot from people. But when I ask someone to do something very simple for me because I am changing things around in my schedule for them and they can't do one very simple little thing, I tend to get annoyed. And when I get annoyed, I am not going to be returning your texts or doing you favors because you have shown me exactly where I stand in the importance rankings in your life. I don't expect to come first with the people I care about, but I do expect them to acknowledge that I have gone out of my way to help them and be respectful of my time in return.

Learn some freaking manners. I know that in today's day and age of constant communication with technology that it wouldn't take more than 5 seconds for you to do what I asked of you, so it's not like I was asking you to give me one of your kidneys.

No one is completely altruistic. And while I tend to try and do anything I can for my friends and family, I absolutely refuse to be friends with and care about people who take from me any longer. You are off of my radar. I am irritated as shit right now in case you can't tell. With people in general, but a few people specifically. And no, it's not you if you're reading this. Trust me.

Why do people think that they can walk all over me? Do I have "doormat" tattooed on my forehead or something? Is there some kind of pheromone that I give off that makes you think that I am an easy target? If not, maybe I should invent something. I shall call it Eau de Dickhead and do my best to switch scents.

I have good people in my life. People who actually do care about me and worry about MY health and well-being. People who call me up for advice and who try and help me before I ever have to ask for it. But it seems like there are always a few folks on the fringes of my life who are leeching off of me and I need to cut them out completely.

I want to live in a bullshit free zone, which means that I need to flush those turds right down the toilet, wave goodbye and let the alligators in the sewers eat them.

Arghhhhhhh......

Goodnight, from an angry pirate.

Random Thoughts From the Drive In

2011-08-01T09:32:00.003-04:00

Last night some I went to the local Drive In with my family and some great friends. I hadn't been in years even though my city has one of the last remaining drive ins in the country. I think there are less than 200 left. After approximately 20 seconds, I remembered the million reasons why, like Wal Mart, I usually stay away from the Drive In Theater.

It makes me feel strangely good about myself - to the detriment of others in attendance. I mean I have teeth, so right there I am a leg up on everyone else.
I once got caught having sex there in a Geo Metro hatchback. I was 17 and ended up marrying the guy, but I am always afraid that someone working there is going to point at me and say "Hey remember that chick! We busted her en flagrante delicto with a gearshift wedged in her ear. Although she was a lot hotter at 17." I shudder.
It's basically located at the edge of a swamp, so you are continuously barraged with giant blood-sucking mosquitos that are immune to all types of bug spray. The city once bombed them with Agent Orange and all that did was piss them off, so I always walk away with about a pint less of O Positive than I had earlier in the night.
The people who built the Drive In, which I think was back when they called movies "talkies", did so in a very interesting location. Right next to railroad tracks. And the railroad is still alive and well. At least in my city. Because a train goes by like every ten minutes.
The bathrooms smell like cat piss. Really. It's worse than the gift shop at Hemingway's house of six-toed cats in Key West. I think the urine has aged over time to a point where it is so pervasive, if you stay in the bathroom for more than a minute, you will die of asphyxiation.
Hillbillies.
The Drive In turns into a flea market on Sunday Mornings and I am always fearful that one of my kids will accidentally step on a hypodermic needle from some crack-head selling used McDonalds Happy Meal toys.
I end up eating the most disgusting things from the snack bar. And then I spend Monday mornings sicking it all back up.
You don't have to bring your own chairs and blankets to a real movie theater.
I end up getting hit on by some freak, weirdo, pot-head who is there with his baby-mama and their 8 kids. Really? You are going to treat me like a princess? Which one? Princess Trashy McTrailerPark?

I guess now that I have trashed the Drive In, I should say something nice about it. The only problem is, I really don't have anything nice to say. And let's be honest. If I went by that little gem about not saying anything if you have nothing nice to say, then I would have nothing to write about.

The only positive thing that I can really impart is that it's fun for the kids. They really seem to enjoy being devoured by pigeon sized bugs, don't mind the constant noise from the trains and ignore the rest of the crap. And the adults have fun chatting and laughing with each other.

And when next year rolls around, I will conveniently forget all of the reasons why I don't go and will load up my car with chairs, blankets and illegal snack foods and go back. Because? It's tradition.

Well, tradition and good material for writing.

Love,

Autumn

Complicated

2011-07-28T18:53:00.002-04:00

I think that sometimes, people make their lives more complicated than they need to be. Actually, I think that MOST of the time many of the issues that we have in our daily lives come as a result of our own insecurities, weaknesses or fears.

I know, from personal experience, that I don't always take the comments of other people in the manner that they were meant to be delivered. I allow my past experiences to color my new experiences with a dirty paintbrush. I have been trained, Pavlovian style, to take the smallest nuance in someone's tone and twist it into something negative, fearful that whatever it is that they are saying is in some way a reflection of my inability as a person to be what they want me to be. But as the saying goes, "I'ma be me."

Yes, I have been writing a lot about the changes that I am making as a person and the growth that I want to achieve, but I've been writing for four years now (well three really, since I went a fucking entire year without writing because of another person, but that's a different topic) and what I have learned about my writing in that time is that I can write what I want, when I want and I really don't give a fuck all who reads it. I love to write. Whether I am rambling incoherently about some assjack hillbilly that lives across the street from me or I am revising my self-help mantra on a daily basis, the people who happen to click on my link looking for Sangria Recipes (most popular by the way) or are trying to live out some Hooters fetish can read whatever the hell I feel like writing.

But I am off subject now. Shit. How the hell does this happen?

Anyway. Oh yeah, complications. So I have let things become more complicated than they should in some aspects of my life. From my own fears and worries and because my head was so messed up that I couldn't see what was right in front of my face.

One thing that I refuse to do is be a "complication" for another person. I will not allow someone else to make me feel bad because they are too busy trying to be hard and strong and tough to see that instead of complicating their life, I could be enhancing it. Interpersonal relationships are fraught with potential pitfalls every single freaking day. Because? People tend to be complicated. It's part of our DNA makeup. We are highly aware beings who tend to think a lot. So when someone tells me that I am complicated or making things complicated for them, whether it is a friend, family member, my dog, the mailman, a business associate or the fly that I can't get to leave my bathroom, I tend to get a little bit pissed off. I try my hardest to make things easier for people. And if having me in your life stresses you out that much, then you can piss off. I don't need it. I have plenty of friends and people who love me and I don't need some emotionally retarded infant that I need to baby and dote on without asking for anything in return in my life. So go get uncomplicated elsewhere. I am a good friend and a good person and I think I would rather be called a bitch than complicated. It's fucking redundant.

We are all complicated. We are all intricate. We all have needs and wants and while some of us may try and repress our feelings, I will not be some little automaton who just walks around with an aimless smile on my face, happy to be led like a show pony. If having feelings makes me complicated, then I will take that too, because at least I have more depth than a kiddie pool that way.

In fact, the more that I think about it, the more ticked off I am getting. Really? Complicated? Do you watch the news? Do you want to live in some cookie cutter, Edward Scissorhands world where everyone has the same house and the same job and no problems and a smile on their face every day? That's just fucking creepy. It freaks me out when people go all Stepford on me. The ones who walk around smiling all day are usually the ones that have the most problems behind closed doors. And yes, I am cynical by nature thankyouverymuch.

I really am not going anywhere with this. Just flitting about, trying to get my thoughts together because I went out of my way today to help someone out and was insulted for the effort. And my dad always tells me that I need to be more closed off to people. Not as trusting. But I do and have disagreed with him deeply about that. If I shut myself off, or change that part of me, then I am no longer being true to who I am. The person that I have been for most of my life.

I went on vacation to see one of my sisters last month and she said "I finally have my sister back." That alone is a good indicator that I am heading in the right direction and that I shouldn't change the key elements of who I am because it's the reason that the people who love me, love me.

On another note, I just found out that you can get Botox for your asshole. That's kind of ironic when you really think about it.

Smoochies.

Autumn

A Strong Person

2011-07-20T04:30:00.002-04:00

A friend sent me something yesterday and part of the message was this:

A strong person knows how to keep their life in order. Even with tears in their eyes, they still manage to say "I'm ok" with a smile.

It came after a pretty tough morning. After another blow. And it started me thinking about how I'm holding on and keeping it together.

The answer varies. Constantly.

Some days I seem to be OK and then there are the other days. The days when the hits just keep on coming. Where nothing I do seems to go right. Where I go out of my way for other people, just to get kicked in the teeth. The days where it feels like I will never smile or laugh again.

So when someone calls me up to see how I'm doing or texts me or e-mails me words of encouragement.... well, it just makes my day a little bit brighter.

My grandmother used to always tell me that God never gives us more than we can handle. I'm not sure whether that's true or not, but I like to think that I can be strong enough to not only handle it, but do it with a smile through my tears.

Reach out to someone today who needs it. Take an extra minute to just call a friend or loved one on the phone and tell them that it will be OK. Sometimes that's all we need to make our day better.

All of my love,

Life Lessons

2011-07-17T23:29:00.003-04:00

Wow! This weekend has been a whirlwind of learning.

First of all, I have learned that wrecking your brand new car really, really, really sucks. Thank God I wasn't seriously injured. I could have gotten really upset and freaked out and stayed in that state for weeks on end. But I am not and I will not be that kind of person any longer. Things could have ended up so much worse for me, but there is a reason that they are called accidents. There is a reason that I pay my insurance premiums. And there is a reason why I was in that place, at that time when I had my accident.

I am trying to focus on the fact that the only thing that got hurt was my car, some property and my pride. I have never been in a car accident like this before and I pray I will never be in one like it again. I could have been seriously injured or even killed, but I had some major angels around me yesterday during the accident and a human angel around me afterwards.

Secondly, I learned that you can make friends from the oddest situations. I mean, completely twilight zone kind of odd. But I feel very blessed because not only was I able to make amends, but I was able to become friends with one of the most beautiful, strong people I have ever met in my life. I hope to soak up some of this person's strength and know that I too can make it through some of my darkest times, because that is what that person did as well.

Finally, I learned that not only am I not alone, but I am surrounded by others who have been in, or are in the same or similar situations as I am. Because this is MY blog, I have the freedom to write about what I want when I want, but I also have a responsibility to readers who reach out to me to share their stories and I would never betray them. What I will say is that there are quite a few people out there who have been through what I have and that validation alone gives me hope for the future.

I am sure that not all of this makes sense and I am just recapping a lot of it for my own benefit. But if there is one thing that I hope the three people who read this take away, it is that no matter what, you can always reach out to me and I will be there for you. I hope that you are being genuine with your problems and issues because I will certainly be genuine back to you. I can't ever tell you what to do in your life, but I will say something very important right now:

IF YOU ARE EVER AFRAID FOR YOUR WELL BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP - GET OUT.

NOW.

DO NOT STOP AND QUESTION OR SECOND GUESS YOURSELF. THERE IS A REASON THAT WE AS HUMANS EVOLVED INTO HIGHLY INSTINCTIVE CREATURES. LISTEN TO THE VOICE THAT IS TELLING YOU TO RUN AND TAKE THE FUCK OFF.

On a lighter note, I had a two hour guitar lesson from my dad tonight. It was awesome, but I am really confused. I can, however, play a total of three chords, so it was definitely educational.

All my love,

Blow Job Olympics

2011-07-13T22:49:00.002-04:00

I've recently taken to texting a friend some of the random little nuggets of insanity that pop up in my head from time to time. No pattern, no explanation, but funny. At least to us.

Her favorite line is "I never claimed to be a slut in this life!" Which is a pretty funny line, but today, while driving to a baseball game, I managed to come up with one that is even better.

"If giving blow jobs was a sport, I'd be a gold medalist."

Now, I'm not saying anything about myself. Necessarily. I'm just saying that the thought managed to seep its way into my consciousness.

But really, when you think about it, the idea has merit. I mean it takes talent, enthusiasm, imagination and flexibility to really pull off a good one. In fact, a few months ago, a friend and I had the opportunity to hang out with a pretty famous comedian after one of his sets. While we were talking the question of how to sustain a marriage came up - the friend was a newlywed. And without missing a beat, I said "learn to love giving head." And I meant it. You can't look at it as something you HAVE to do. You have to enjoy yourself. Your partner can certainly tell the difference and it works the same for women and men. Regardless of who is on the receiving end, if the giver isn't into it, it really doesn't work.

What do I know though? It's not like I'm the poster girl for solid relationships, married or otherwise, but I really like the thought. Maybe it's because I recently watched "Old School" for like the four hundred and seventy second time, but that scene with Andy Dick really stands out. Not only is it hilarious, but it makes sense. Learning how to please your partner should really end up pleasing you both. And I think that anything worth doing is worth doing really, really, really well.

So where does this bring us? I have no freaking clue. I'm just rambling right now, trying to make sense of my upside-down world.

Still....... Think about it. When was the last time that you threw yourself into anything with passion and abandon? When was the last time you really wanted to please someone else without worrying about how you were benefiting from the act?

Maybe these are just random life lessons for myself. Maybe the strange things that pop into my head should really stay in my head where they belong. But fuck it. I remember when I started writing this blog. It was a place for me to put those random thoughts. I place where I could write anything I wanted and not have to worry about other people reading it and taking offense. Right now, I could give two shits who I offend. This is for me and about me. And yes, it's a little hypocritical since I am talking about doing things for others selflessly, but this is still my outlet. I stopped writing for a year. A whole year. Because I was afraid that I would get shit from someone else about what I was writing. Who I was writing about.

But now, I am free. Free to do what I want, when I want without the fear of the cycling insanity that used to be my life. So if I want to write about blow jobs or circus clowns or marrying my cat, I will. And nobody can stop me because I answer to two people. Me and Jesus. And I'm pretty sure HE has more important things to worry about than fellatio.

Good night and good lovin'.

My New Husband

2011-07-12T18:30:00.002-04:00

People, I have decided. After all of the stress and heartbreak and emotional roller coasters that I have endured in my life, I am finally getting married again. To the most wonderful being on the planet. Of course, until everyone has the ability to marry, it will have to be a civil union. Not because we are gay, but because he is a cat.

That's right. You heard me. A cat. A wonderful, glorious feline named Butter. He is an orange tabby and looks like the fat version of Puss in Boots. He has all of the qualities that I want in a man.

He leaves me alone when I want to be left alone.
He cuddles with me when I am sad.
He is very clean with wonderful personal hygiene.
He doesn't argue with me, talk back, or tell me that I am wrong. EVER!
He is housebroken - so no peeing on the floor - which is more than I can say about some men!!!!!!
I don't have to support him, put him through college, treat him like a child or fulfill any sick sex fantasies.
In fact, I don't have to have sex with him at all.
I can bitch about my day without him interrupting me or trying to one up me with how bad HIS day was.
He doesn't leave poop stains on my bed.
He doesn't lie to me.
He makes me laugh.
He might be smarter than I am.
He is a ninja assassin.
He can ride a motorcycle.
He punches dogs in their faces. For reals yo!
He likes all of the same music, movies and TV shows that I like and never, ever complains that he wants to watch something else.
He doesn't hog the remote control.
I can leave him for days at a time without having to worry about him.
He doesn't call, text or otherwise hound me during the day.
I can go out with my friends without him getting jealous.
I have never caught him masturbating with my underwear.
He has never stolen my underwear.

And most importantly - he loves me without reservation or fail.

So, until I can find a human man like Butter, I am sticking with him.

Love you,

Autumn

The Power of Forgiveness

2011-07-10T12:32:00.001-04:00

I believe in forgiveness. And I know that while it is sometimes a very difficult, or close to impossible, thing to do, forgiving someone really eases a burden off of your heart. I think that there are a lot of people in my life that I need to forgive. Not forget, but forgive, for my own sanity and sense of well being.

That said, I was recently forgiven by someone. And I can't believe how good it feels. I was completely wrong in my actions and someone was hurt by what I did. For the last few months, that person has been weighing heavily on my mind and heart. How could I, a person who prides herself on being honest and caring and good (somewhat), do what I did and not reach out and apologize? Most people think that there are three words in the English language that are the most difficult to say - I love you - but it's really only two - I'm sorry.

Because of my last post, I have had the opportunity to apologize. Sincerely and heartfelt. And the beauty of it is that I was forgiven. It's a gift. A wonderful, beautiful gift to be able to be forgiven. I don't know when I will be able to forgive myself for my actions in harming this person, but surely this is the first step in the process isn't it?

And if someone else, whom I have never even met, is able to forgive me for things that I have done that led to their pain, shouldn't I be able to look into my own heart and do the same for those who have hurt me? I really don't know the answer to that yet. All I know is that I am going to try. Try and be the best person that I can be and not let the negativity and ignorance of other people pull me down. Try and be as open and loving and honest as I can without letting people use me and walk all over me. Try and look at the beauty in the world and aspire to be as beautiful as I can be as a human being. And most definitely try and be the kind of person my children can look up to and be proud to call mom.

And my heart feels good these days. I feel like this huge weight has been lifted off of me. And it's such a special feeling.

Thank you to that special person who found it in their heart to say - I forgive you. You will never know how much that means to me.

Love and Underwear

2011-07-09T10:37:00.003-04:00

Welcome back to the wild ride that is my life. Where nothing changes and the carousel spins faster.

I've had a lot - and I mean A LOT - of alone time lately. I should be writing. I should be cleaning out my refrigerator and dusting my knickknacks. But mostly, I have spent a good portion of that time thinking. And really being confused. And not knowing which direction to go in.

But I think that's a good thing. Because confusion is just one way to grow as a person. It makes you sit back and take a hard look at your life. To identify the myriad of mistakes that you have made and analyze them in order to not repeat them.

Finally I have come to the conclusion that maybe I am not cut out for this love thing. Every time, I get hurt and disappointed and used and betrayed. And that isn't a ploy for sympathy, it is just a fact. I end up falling for the most irresponsible, unavailable, insane and potentially sociopathic men that are out there. I let my walls down and then BAM, I get blindsided by some bullshit.

Don't get me wrong, I am definitely not a man hater. It just seems to me that I am a magnet for the wrong guy for me type. I always fall for the broken or needy or counterfeit man, instead of the emotionally stable, supportive, loving man.

Point in case. I was in a relationship that was not good for me. By the end of our time together, I sear to God, I didn't know which way was up. I was so confused about what was going on in my life and my feelings for that person that I couldn't see that he was slowly destroying my independence and self-esteem. All of my emotions were tied up in HIS feelings and HIS wants and HIS needs. I became an extension of him instead of a partner in his life. I was so afraid of losing him that I failed to see all of the other things in my life that I lost because of him.

That is over now. Thank God. And do you know why? Because he finally returned my underwear. Real life is stranger than fiction and one day, I received a thirty pound package in the mail. It was all of the stuff that he failed to return to me when we split up. In that box was a bag with 43 pairs of underwear in it. What the fuck? Who keeps someone's underwear? And if that sounds strange, there are so many other weird stories that I could share, but I'll leave that for another time. But what the package allowed me to do, was to close a door on that part of my life and hopefully heal and move on to better things.

Since then, I have been able to rebuild some of the relationships that I lost because of that person with my friends and family. I have looked at myself and found that I really like who I am as a person. I am flawed and fucking fabulous. I have talent and drive and determination. I have the ability to look at people and find the good in them. I can take mistakes and heartbreak and turn them into learning experiences.

I have also found out that I love LOVE. The ability to take your own feelings out of the equations and just be there for another person. For a partner, or a friend or a family member. It doesn't have to be a romantic situation. But love in and of itself is a thing of beauty. Whether it's your child picking wildflowers for you, or getting frantic phone calls from your family because they haven't heard from you in 24 hours and are making sure you are still OK, the ability to love and be loved is a wonderful skill to have.

One thing I am refusing to do right now is fall in love. I need a break from the insanity. Because as great as it is to love someone, it is also equally as painful in my own personal experience. If it's out there, it's out there. If it's not, so what? Who cares right now? I feel no pressure to jump back into a relationship with someone just to be in a relationship. I would rather work on the people in my life now who are important to me and be able to grow in my relationships with them. To give more of myself to the people who matter to me like my children and my friends and family and work on my career. I want to practice yoga, quit smoking, get in shape, learn to play the guitar, fly a plane, dance until I can't breathe, get caught in a rainstorm, feel the sun beat down on my face, cry when something makes me sad and laugh every single day.

And since this post was a bit fucking maudlin, I am going to leave you with some quips that I have come up with that make my friends laugh:

I have never claimed to be a slut in this life!
The %&(# clan war just went supernova.
If we aren't in 7th grade anymore, why does your hair look like Justin Bieber's?
You can melt anything with a hot enough flame. (not a good one, but I was a bit drunk at the time)
w w w dot mustache rides dot com - where cougars go for a great time
AND - my favorite - I only answer to two people in my life. Me. And Jesus.

I don't know if those are funny our of context, but I'm leaving them up to remind me of the times I came up with them and how much fun you can have when you let go of something that wasn't real to begin with.

All of my love!

Autumn

The Imbalance of Relationships

2011-06-04T21:52:00.002-04:00

It has been recently brought to my attention (again) that there is always an imbalance in any relationship. Whether one friend is more involved than the other, one partner is more giving than the other or the bee drone lives to serve the queen, there never seems to be an equal balance.

Why is this? Why do we allow our partner, friends, loved ones to give more to us than we can or are willing to give back to them? And on the other side, why do people allow themselves to give so much without getting back what they deserve? Is it always this way, or does that balance shift back and forth over the nature of the relationships?

I think that this is sometimes yes and sometimes no. The drones will always serve the queen without necessarily getting anything back other than fulfilling their jobs within the animal kingdom. But where this balance of power may work with other species, we as humans certainly have more control over our own destiny. But why then, aware of that control, do some people continue to fight what seems to be a losing battle? Giving so much of themselves and not really getting anything back in return.

This thought brings me back to an episode of Friends where Phoebe argues that there IS such a thing as complete altruism. In the end, she allows a bee to sting her to get her point across, not realizing that the bee dies as a result. But in real life, we are not able to be completely altruistic. In fact, a lot of people are just plain old selfish assholes who take and take and take until finally, the people around them and involved with them cut them loose to save themselves.

So..... hmmm..... I am struggling with this thought. It's been floating around in my brain a while now. Just because. I watch the people around me. I have been involved in this so-called imbalance with family, friends and relationships. On both sides. And what it really comes down to is the fact that while I think there will always be someone who gives more, I don't think it has to be a drastic difference. Maybe in a personal relationship one partner has a bad day or week or month and the other picks up the slack and gives a little more of himself. And the other partner realizes this, acknowledges and appreciates it. But instead of being on a teeter-totter where one person is sitting their fat ass at the bottom and the other one is at the top, giving for all they're worth, I believe that any relationship will grow and continue when each person involved tries as hard as they can to keep the plank balanced in the middle, dipping up and down slightly. There will be times when one person needs the other more, but as long as we keep giving as much as we possibly can of ourselves to others, without being selfish dickwads, then I think that maybe, just maybe we can have that ever elusive balance.

I am still looking for it. And maybe I am just a mellow, Pollyanna bitch tonight because I got to hang with my best friend today, get some sun and grill out, but I have hope for the future. Hope that I can be less selfish and more giving. Hope that the people who are and will be in my life will be the same.

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease!

Fat and Happy?

2011-05-30T16:43:00.002-04:00

I wonder if being happy makes you fat?

Not necessarily MAKES you fat, but is there a correlation between being happy and maybe having a few extra pounds to lose? Do some people take shortcuts with their health and fitness when things are going well?

I don't really know the answer to that in general terms, but I do know that answer in my own life and that is a resounding Y-E-S. I have gained close to 20 pounds in the last 2 years. I have gone from mostly fit to a little out of shape. I got lazy. But was I really happy? I know that I was depressed at times. I was on medication for a misdiagnosed condition, so that had something to do with the weight gain. I thought I was blissfully happy, so instead of making more time to take care of myself, I was spending more time working, with my children and my partner and I quit doing the physical things that both kept me in shape and released endorphins into my system, thus helping to keep my weight down.

I have pretty much always been on the thin side. Most people thought I had an eating disorder for a long time, just because I had a super low BMI. Not true. What I had was a life filled with chaos. I was going to school, working two to three jobs at a time and I was on my feet constantly. This kept me slim. Not skinny, but slim. I have always looked like I weigh about 10 - 15 pounds less than I really do, so there was also a misperception of how much I weighed. What was still on the pretty thin side was considered super skinny by people who didn't know me, because they looked at me and thought I was much smaller than I really was. I even had a few doctors get on my case, which was hilarious because back then, I cold eat anything I wanted and not gain an ounce. But I was constantly stressed out. I was working my ass off, literally. So keeping in shape wasn't difficult.

Then came a second child. I had to work a lot harder to lose that weight and get in shape. But I did it and I started kickboxing, which is really great for toning up and burning calories. But I still felt unhappy. I still had this internal drive to keep moving forward, keep going on, keep working harder. So I did, but I never felt really happy.

But as I said before, in the last two years, I slowed down. I took time to focus on my health and well being. I got a mixed up group of medicines and I got lazy. And let's face it: a little chubby. I stopped kickboxing. I quit yoga and dance. And even when I was working hard and traveling, I didn't focus on being healthy. I ate on the run and what I did eat was full of fat. That added to sitting on my ass and doing nothing also helped contribute.

So what does it all mean? I don't think being happy means you gain weight. I think losing sight of who you are - in my case - certainly helped add to it though. And since I am changing my life, I am also changing this "thing" that is bothering me. These few extra pounds that I am carrying around need to go bye-bye. I neither need nor want to be skinny though. I want to be fit and in shape. I want to work off some of this cellulite and tone up again. AND I think punching a heavy bag would help me out so much right now. I even have some faces that I could tape up there for motivation!

I am so excited to be writing again. I don't know where this is going, but I am doing it for ME. Just like Ricky Bobby.

Have a safe and wonderful Memorial Day weekend and take the time out of your day to thank a veteran.

Much love.

Emotional

2011-05-26T14:39:00.003-04:00

I have been super emotional lately. It's easily explained and understandable considering the fact that pretty much everything in my life has changed.

The most important thing is that I continue to tell myself that it's OK to cry. I hate crying. I don't lean on other people or look outside of myself for support. But tonight, I did just that. I called a friend. A great, wonderful, loving friend who was sooooo there for me. Just to listen and tell me that I am a good person and that I do deserve good things in life and that it's OK to be sad right now.

Surprisingly enough, I'm not that angry. Maybe that will come later. Ok, scratch that, I am angry, but I'm trying to not let it overtake me. My main emotion right now is sadness and hurt. And self-loathing. I have never really let that many people get close to me and now I feel like a fool because I did let someone in and they have almost destroyed me. Someone I thought was my best friend turned out to be anything but a friend.

So now, I feel like I am starting all over. Again. For the umpteenth time. And I have to seriously ask myself how much of this is my fault because I opened myself up to being hurt. Knowingly. I honestly knew that there was a good chance that things would end up the way they did. It's like the story of the Frog and the Scorpion. The scorpion promises not to sting the frog if he takes him across the river, but halfway across, he stings him anyway. Because THAT IS WHAT A SCORPION DOES!!!! And I got stung. I knew I would get stung.

So now, I just have to get the venom out. It is going to take a long time because I was stung over and over and over again. Like a fool. Like the stupid frog who died. But I love frogs. They are actually some of my favorite creatures. They learn how to adapt to their environments and blend in to protect themselves from predators.

So I am going to learn to be more like the frog, without the trusting nature in the fable. I will learn how to blend into my environment. I will try to heal and to move on, because I have gotten through worse things than this. Not many, but I think I can do it.

And the next time I see a scorpion, I will crush it under my 4 inch stilettos.

It's Never Too Late to Start Over

2011-05-23T01:10:00.003-04:00

In the last few years, my life has had more changes than I ever expected. If someone had told me when I started this blog that at thirty-three years old I would be single and unemployed, I would have bitch slapped them, but here I am anyway.

I have made some poor decisions in my life. I have alienated friends and family. I have gone on medication, gone off of medication, gone back on medication and switched medication more times than a Hollywood starlet changes lovers. I have battled through some serious health issues. I have strained against the chains that I felt were binding me until they were broken. I have added to my own suffering by burrowing in my nest and shutting out the world. I stopped writing. I stopped taking the joy that life has always handed to me.

Now I recognize that it is time for me to wake up. To grow up and move forward. I need to dig myself out of this hole of seclusion and delusion that I have been living in and embrace life again. Because I once enjoyed the world. For all the wrongs and negatives that there are out there, there is so much more that is right and good.

I have friends and family who love me. I have things to offer to others. I have a full life to live and I can't do that while curled up in the fetal position with my sheets pulled over my head, refusing to do more than the basic necessities in order to survive.

I have completely changed my life recently. And you know what? I am happier than I can ever remember being. Sure I have moments, a lot of moments (let's be honest here), filled with doubt and self-loathing. But I have recognized my life for what it has become and I am making changes. Most people would probably fall into an even deeper depression to wake up one morning and realize that they no longer have a job or a relationship. But me? I am thrilled.

I can now make my life anything I want it to be. It's kind of like spending during a recession. It doesn't make sense, but somehow it works economically. I don't want to save my joys for a rainy day. I don't want to hoard a chance at happiness for the future. My chance is right now, in this time and place, to do what I want, when I want it.

I am going for the brass ring. That ever elusive symbol of wholeness that seems so far out of reach. It's not though. I can see it. It's right in front of me. I don't know what it represents to me - YET. All I know is that it is just sitting there, waiting for me to grab on tight and never let go.

My world is filled with limitless opportunities. I can be anyone, I can do anything and I can and will take my time, explore my options and not only make the best of my situation, but I will make life my bitch. I spit in the direction of haters and detractors. I laugh in the face of uncertainty. And last but not least, I take heart that I have people out there who care for and love me the way that I deserve.

I am Autumn and I am happy.

A Short Story

2010-05-04T09:11:00.003-04:00

She stood at the door with great trepidation, hesitating to raise her hand and knock. Somewhere between the slam of her car door and the walk up the front steps to the man waiting inside, she had lost her composure. She had the entire conversation planned out in her mind, but now faced with the reality of what was about to happen, everything she had so meticulously outlined was forgotten. The closer she got to the door, the more her hands began to shake. Her stomach was in knots and her knees went weak. How was she supposed to explain to him that their lives were about to take a turn that neither of them had planned on? It had taken her two days to muster the courage to face him and if she followed her instincts and turned around, she knew she would never have the strength to say what needed to be said and to do what needed to be done.

Steeling herself against her own apprehension, she knocked boldly on the front door. It may have been easier to use the key that he had given her, but she wanted to be formal and she had not spoken to him since she received the news two days ago. He had called and texted and e-mailed her incessantly for the last forty eight hours. She heard the news herself at 2:06 P.M. on Monday afternoon and now it was almost exactly two days later to the tee. While she waiting for him to come to the door, she could smell the fresh cut lawn. She felt the sun beating down and the breeze cooling the sweat that began beading on her skin as much from her frayed nerves as from the heat of the afternoon.

Just before he opened the door, a surprising calm came over her. Suddenly she knew the exact words to use. The right tone to take. As he opened the door and came into full view, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. While they stood there, drinking each other in, it occurred to her that two days was the longest that they had gone without seeing each other in some capacity for the last year. Here was the man that she had come to love without hesitation or reservation. His posture was regal, his shoulders pulled back in juxtaposition to the faded jeans he was wearing and his bare feet. There was just something about the combination of his formal bearing and casual nature that had appealed to her from the first.

Without saying a word, he lifted one eyebrow quizzically and gestured her inside and out of the heat. She let the coolness of the foyer wash over her as she looked around the room. Nothing had changed here, but everything had changed for them. This time, there was no looking back. They both had an important decision to make. In a relationship that they had both entered wounded and scared, time and love had seen enormous growth in both of them individually and as a couple. They had learned so much from one another and had grown so close that it was sometimes difficult for their friends and family to see them as anything other than the unit that they had created together.

The two of them had resisted enormous pressure from both of their families to make their union more formal. Neither had a strong desire to enter into a legally binding contract when their hearts were already married. For the last two years, that had worked out well for both of them. While she had practically lived with him for the majority of those two years, she had still kept a separate apartment. It was her security blanket against pain. A safe haven where she could run to if things got a little hairy, which they had. Especially in the beginning. It had caused a lot of arguments between them in an otherwise non-contentious and loving union. At first, he insisted that she give up her place and move in with him. She dug in her heels and refused, citing that she wanted to be certain of their complete partnership before making such a huge move. He had finally given up many months before and resigned himself to her stubborn nature. He figured that she would make the move when she was ready.

Without saying a word, he reached out and took her hand and lifted it to his lips. She could see the worry and concern in his eyes. While she usually went back to her place when he was away, or to check her mail, she was never far from reach and they spoke on the phone several times a day if they were apart, so his concern was not without merit. As they walked into the living room, her heart skipped a beat. After the kitchen, this was the core of their home together. Ownership of the home meant little to either of them when anyone could look around and see that they were present in every corner of the house. They had picked out and redesigned each and every room together, laughing as they argued over paint colors and fabric samples. They purchased several pieces of artwork together as well as the bargain buys they had found at estate sales and discount stores. It was an eclectic mix that reflected who they were as a couple and they were justifiably proud of what they had built together.

As they sat down on the sectional couch that they had spent months searching for until they decided to design one themselves, her hands once again began to tremble and she could now see fear replace the concern in his eyes. She started to speak, but faltered before she could get any sound to come out of her mouth. As she began to tremble he pulled her into his arms and held her as she sobbed. Her heart was breaking for what she had to do. There was no way that she could keep this from him, even though it might destroy him, but the words still wouldn't come.

As her crying subsisted and with his arms still around her, she found a tranquility that would prove to serve her well in the months ahead. She eased back from him and wordlessly held out a piece of paper. She just couldn't tell him herself.

She watched him as his eyes widened and filled with tears. He looked at her for reassurance, but found none. In an instant, their dreams and plans had gone out the window, but not their love for one another. Never that. She hadn't doubted that he would still love her, but she hurt for him and all that she would leave behind. She watched him pull his eyes back down to the paper as he reread the words that would be her death sentence. She already knew what it said as she had read it herself over and over again in the last two days. She argued with the doctors initially and then railed against fate. She prayed to the God of her childhood and finally made peace with herself and the illness that would end her life in a few short months.

Inoperable brain tumor was what the diagnosis had been. The doctors that she had seen were top notch. No one would have suspected that the mild headaches that had been plaguing her for months would turn into something so life altering. Since she hadn't known how to break the news to him, she had shut herself off from the world for a while until she was confident to face it again on her own terms. She had lived her life her way and she would pass out of this world her way.

Once again he reached for her. He reassured her in his support and devotion. As the days flew by with increasing speed, her health deteriorated. She did not wish to die in a hospital bed, nor would she allow death to take away her last moments of life. Instead, she played for as long as her body would let her. He was there with her the entire time, holding her up when she faltered. He supported her and stood by her side as they broke the news to their family and loved ones together. He was always there with her, even as her energy waned and she was forced into bed rest. There was a hospice nurse who came every day in the end, to watch her and give her the medication that she desperately needed to ease the pain. But he never left her side and he slept in the bed they had set up in his first floor office for her comfort and ease every night.

The last night of her life, they laid in the tiny bed listening to the beeps and hums of the machines. She had lost her ability to speak, but they didn't need words. They never had. He held her tight and lightly touched her hair with his fingertips. And as she took her last breath, he could swear that he felt her presence in the room.

The next few days were hell, spent making sure that her final wishes were followed through with. She was buried in her family cemetery next to a sister that had passed away during their youth. As the final mourners made their was through the rain and back to their cars, he stood staring at the casket in the ground. He knew that her spirit was no longer there. She had come to him in a dream the night before exacting from him the promise that he would celebrate her life and if he had to mourn her death, that he did so for as short a time as possible. As the clouds opened and the rain poured down, he felt it only fitting that the heavens weeped. Not at the loss of her body, but for thankfulness in the gaining of another angel.

He took one last look at the hole in the ground. Finally, he picked up a black-eyed susan, her favorite flower and the flower of their home state, kissed it and tossed it on the top of the casket. She had shown him love and laughter and shared all the joys of life with him. He didn't know what he would do now that she was gone, but he knew that no one could ever take the place in his heart that would forever belong to her.

Retail Therapy

2010-04-30T08:25:00.002-04:00

I was taught at an early age that any time your life is disrupted, you go shopping. Not just shopping, but SHOPPING, all caps, all the time. Shopping for shoes, clothes, sales, junk, whatever. When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping.

This I learned from my grandmother, who was a huge influence on my life. Probably the greatest influence on my life. Her best friend's name was Mall. Mall was short for Lillian. Well, maybe not short for Lillian, but instead of Lillian. You see, Mall and my Nana were shopping buddies. They had their routine down pat. Off to Hagerstown, Maryland to while away time and the Montgomery Wards and Sears and I think there was a JC Penney there too, but that was a long time ago and my memories aren't what they used to be. Then they would get pizza, again in the mall.

Anyway, enough background information. To make a long story short, I learned at the feet of the master shopper. How to find deals. How to love shoes, especially high heels. How to use shopping to forget about your troubles for a while.

Today, I have learned that while a fun past time, shopping should not be a form of therapy. For many reasons. One, it can get you into debt. Two, the problems don't go away, they just hide for a while. Three, once the problems you were running away from come back, you just go shopping again which leads us right back to reason #1.

I love to shop. I love to bargain hunt. I love good clothes and even better shoes. But for myself, I am on a shopping moratorium.

At the beginning of the year, I created a self-imposed shopping hiatus that is to last until 2011. At first it was just shoes. Now I have added all non-necessity items to that list. I have had a serious decrease in cash flow lately and I really do own all of the shoes that I need at the moment. In fact, I am going to clean out my garage shoe storage area and give away anything that I have not worn in the last two years. Same thing goes for my clothing.

I am doing too fucking well at this asstarded shopping abstinence. I have NOT bought a single pair of shoes this entire year and it's almost May. How can that be? I NEVER stick with anything and yet this one thing that brings me so much joy, I have cut out of my life completely. Go figure. And I can't really just try shoes on because that is like putting a fat person in a candy shop just to smell the chocolate, or taking an alcoholic on a tour of the Jack Daniels plant. Nooooooooooooo!!!!! I went cold turkey. Just like that. And now, all of the beautiful, shiny, sequined, strappy, stiletto, platform, wedged, glorious sexual objects for the feet are out of my grasp.

I know that I can do this damn thing. I just have to stay out of every single store that I love so much. Like Macy's and Dillard's and BCBG and BeBe and.... well you get the point. And I am doing well with the clothing too. For one, I am not working, so the costume du jour is almost always drawstring sweats and a T-shirt and maybe a hoodie on cold days. The few times I have to get dressed in something that I shouldn't be cleaning in, I wear jeans. That's not to say that I haven't bought clothing or shoes. Or maybe I should say one pair of shoes. I had to, as a necessity, purchase a new pair of tennis shoes. And I have picked up a couple of pairs of yoga pants and t-shirts since March when I added clothing to the mix. But all of those items were needed and I don't count socks and underwear and bras in any category as I don't need my undergarments to look like mice have been chewing on them

Other than that, I have stuck to my plan.

Hopefully I can buckle down and apply this attitude to other areas of my life.

Cheers to not falling off of the wagon. Because we all know that if I do, it will be the shopping spree heard 'round the world. The stock market will go up, there will be small, overworked children in third world countries with bleeding fingers and department stores in my town will weep at the extravaganza.

Hopefully, I can just dream about it at night at let the memories get me through the day. Until then, I can just picture my Nana and Mall, in heaven, weeping with the angels over my strict self-control. Not understanding how I can resist the might siren's call of that phenomenon we call Retail Therapy.

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease.

I Just Might Still Be Funny

2010-04-26T11:23:00.003-04:00

So Saturday night was the bachelorette party for one of my oldest and dearest friends. She is getting married in a few weeks and I am in the wedding. I am very excited for her.

However, I was worried about the party because I am not 100% there physically and most likely won't be for the next several months. I didn't want to detract from her day in any way, but I thought that I should show up to support her.

The plan was to go to dinner with a small group and then go home and meet the entire party back at her house an hour before they were set to leave and then follow them to their first location so that I would have my car since I wasn't planning on staying out the entire night. I have to take my medication at specific times and I needed to be home, so going with the entire group was not an option for me.

Still, I worried that the woman that my friend had known for the last twelve years would no longer be there. In her place, would be someone else. Someone who has changed remarkably over the last two years and even more so over the last two months. I felt like I would have nothing to contribute to the party.

Not so.

I had them laughing in hysterics at the dinner table that night. Somehow, I was able to reach deep into myself for the ability to be humorous once more. I had some pretty remarkable one-liners and some funny stories. I might not be the life of the party, but I was still fun. Stone cold sober. I can't drink on my medication and I don't have the desire to, even if I had the ability. I want a new and different life for myself and I am working hard to forge my way ahead and become the person that I want to be, with all of the good parts of the old person thrown in.

They say that you can't teach an old dog new tricks. To those people I say "shut the fuck up and mind your own damn business." I am not old, I am not a dog and I don't do tricks. What I am doing is trying to remodel myself into a better person. Not that I was a bad person to begin with, but there is much room for improvement and that is my aim. I no longer strive to be superwoman. I have much more simple goals. To be a good parent, to be a good daughter/sister/etc. and to be a good friend. I think that once I tidy that part of my life up, the rest will start rolling into place.

I am still the same person, just improved. Better, faster, stronger. Okay, maybe I am not all of those things yet, but I will be. Sometime in the future I will be.

I am still getting my ass kicked on a daily basis. The side effects of this medication are increasing, but I try to keep a positive outlook. Things could always be worse and the point of what I am doing is to be healthier. I am trying every day to be positive and see that silver lining that seems so obscured to me. But still I cannot do this without assistance. I have friends and family, loved ones, who are helping me through. Even when I try to shut them out, the come crashing through my walls to help. I don't even have to ask for it. They pick me up when I start falling. They reassure me when I have doubts. They take my negativity and shoot rainbows back at me. Their unfailing belief in me keeps me going and makes me believe in myself and my own strength.

I am still working through all of this, but I am taking it one day at a time. Which is the only way that I can do what I need to do and still have a productive, happy life.

But I'm still funny. So yay!

To Sarah

2010-04-24T08:30:00.002-04:00

I have known you since you were a teenager and I was a mere twenty years old. How quickly time passes as it's now twelve years later. We have both had children since then. We have had relationships and tears, smiles and laughter, heartbreak and successes.

I met you at a "fitness" class that we were both taking for an easy credit and an easy A. Little did we know that the instructor was a hard ass and that she would be riding everyone until the end of the semester. When the final came around, and yes there was a fucking written final for a dumb ass strength and flexibility class, we cheated off of each other.

Then came dancing, a shared passion. You taught me how to do most of them. We learned hip-hop in your tiny apartment one floor below mine. It was the three amigos on one, two and three, but you and I most of all.

We went dancing once or twice a week. Learning the two-step and the waltz, the cha-cha and the chadish. Before we left, we would get ready together most of the time in one of our tiny bathrooms with curling irons and hairspray and makeup scattered all over the place.

You were my support when things started to slide south in my life. You gave me encouragement and strength and the insight that, yes what I was doing was difficult and painful, but in the end I had made the right decision for everyone involved.

Throughout the years, we have spent time together and time apart due to circumstance and trials. But whether we were eating bad pizza from Rini-Rego's and watching Jeff Foxworthy on my VCR or playing softball together, we always had fun.

Picnics and birthdays and cards and crazy times and quiet times were all a part of our friendship. You are a sister of the heart and one of my favorite people on the planet. I can always count on you to be there for me whenever I need you, even if I don't have the courage to ask for help. And you know that I will be there for you whenever you need me, whether you want me to be there or not.

Congratulations on making this new change in your life. I am proud of the way you have matured over the years and how you handle yourself with dignity and grace. I will be there on that day in May, standing up for someone that I love with all of my heart. You don't need my blessing or my input. You need my support and my love and I hope, that on your special day, that you can feel both radiating from me as we share in such a joyous occasion.

I love you.

ADW

Happy Birthday Baby

2010-04-22T10:15:00.001-04:00

My little bear is six today.

I love him so.

That is all.

Hooters Reunion Part 2 - With Pictures

2010-04-20T08:22:00.008-04:00

How much fun was last Friday night? It's been so long (too long) since I have gone out with friends.

Even though Ihad to leave early in the night - since I take medicine and all - and even though I had about a half a glass of sangria, I had an absolute blast.

I you are ever in Cleveland, you have to go to Mallorca. It is the best restaurant in town and the service there is impeccable. Of course, no one sitting anywhere close to us enjoyed their dinner since we were absolutely obnoxious. In fact, KY decided to yell out "Fuck yeah I like to party" at the top of her lungs. And some old fossil had to be manhandled onto his transport back to the hotel he and his wife were staying at AFTER telling his wife "I don't wanna go".

And then there was the BIG HAIR. All caps. HUGE HAIR. KY and I both go to the blog renowned Man Ho Cho and he has a saying... well actually I gave him the saying, but it's "the higher the hair, the closer to God." And by all that is holy, he takes it seriously. He actually told me after he did my hair "I rearry outdid mysef dis time."

KY and I were the first to arrive, so when we walked in she told the host, "BIG HAIR, party of ten." I almost peed my pants and that was just the start to the evening.

All told, eight ladies showed up which was a great turn out. One of our girlfriends from Minnesota was in town and I had not seen her for almost three years, so it was a real treat.

I, of course, had to go home early along with two other ladies. I can't stay out late with the medication I am on and I get very tired, very easily. I was soooo sad to go, but c'est la vie.

It was a great time and I can't wait to do it again soon.

Oh... and here are some pictures.

Me with BIG HAIR and my very sparkly dress.

Me and KY

Me and BBS

Three Hot Mommas

Girlfriends

"Unh Unh, We Closed"

"I hate grape pop, It tastes like med-di-sun"

"Oh my God! You found my purse. I have 18,000 dollars in there."

"Frito Bandito"

"Browns' Sunday"

"I love KY's Flower" (in mustard)

Turtle Face

Collective Soul

Vanilla Ice

Sonny Ledford and an accidental Vicodin incident

Good times ladies. Good times.

Hooters Reunion Part 1

2010-04-16T07:44:00.002-04:00

So.....

It's been 10 years since I started working at Hooters and almost 7 since the place closed down. When that happened, there were a lot of girls out of a job. I am sure that most of us thought that we would go our own way, but we many of us were surprised that we never did.

After that sad, sad day, many of us began working at a new place, in a new location with a new owner. In fact, the place was so new that it wasn't even open at the time the old place closed down. But it was up and running a few weeks later and so were we.

Most of us decided to do other things at new places. But through it all, a core group survived. At first we saw each other quite a bit. Either by working together, or meeting up now and then to reminisce or have a few drinks. We would see each other at weddings and baby showers.

Some of us moved away. To Minnesota and Chicago and South Carolina and other places unknown.

But today? Today a big group of us gets back together. We are going to meet tonight and a very nice place where last the largest group of us dined. We will eat and drink and switch seats and laugh and tell stories about things that happened in that golden time. Before we grew up. Before we really started understanding life.

So much has changed. Marriages and divorces. Babies and break-ups. College Degrees, new jobs, new cities, new friends. But the core of it all? Underneath everything? Is a sisterhood that will never diminish with time.

And my hope is that we will do this more often. And that over the years, as our faces line with wrinkles or spread out with Botox, as we have more babies and learn more about life, that the love and affection that we feel for one another stays true and strong.

We might not be together all at once. We may never have this opportunity again. But what we will have are all of our memories and hopefully all of our mammaries.

I love you girls and I can't wait to see you all tonight.

Bring it hard and bring it sexy.

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease.

Thinking

2010-04-13T08:46:00.002-04:00

Damn it all. I need to stop thinking so much and start writing. I am the world's greatest procrastinator and what I really need is someone to kick my ass and tell me to buck up and get going.

Instead, I think. I get ideas in the middle of the night that I never write down. I worry about things that haven't happened yet and will never happen unless I buckle down and start doing it.

Thinking sucks me in, because before I know it, hours have elapsed and I have gotten absolutely nowhere. I can blame the medical stuff or I can blame personal issues or I can blame being a busy mother. I CAN blame any number of things, but I won't because I am to blame.

At the end of the day, I am a chickenshit. I am too scared of rejection and too lazy to do something that I really, really want to do. The ultimate dream. And now? I am wavering. All I really want to do is go back to bed. What I should do is buckle down and write. What I probably will do is laundry.

I hate people like me today. Vacillating. Opting out. Being scared.

I need to remember to breath. And to remember that it's OK to be scared. I have been told in no uncertain terms that I have to stop trying to be perfect. Not that I think I am perfect, but that I try too hard to BE perfect. So I will wallow if I want to and if inspiration strikes, I just may get that little nudge that I need.

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease.

Mandarin Diarrhea Episode 1

2010-04-08T22:24:00.003-04:00

Ha ha freaking ha.

I can't wait to see what google searches bring this post up.

But I digress. Because? There really is a point to this post. And that is Meatloaf, Mandarin Oranges and copious quantities of diarrhea.

To wit. I was at a friend's house last night and I decided that since I have been really tired from medication, etc, that it would be better just to hang out and chill instead of going to dinner and a movie or whatnot. So I decided to make meatloaf. Not just any meatloaf, but my famous (in my head only) meatloaf.

My meatloaf is kind of like grape meatballs (if you have never had them, google it and make them because they are the equivalent of angel appetizers) in that the ingredients sound completely disgusting, but the end result in scrum-diddley-umptious. You take about 3 pounds of ground beef and infuse it with soy sauce and other secret things and then you mix up some brown sugar, more soy sauce and mandarin oranges and pour the whole thing over the top.

After baking for about an hour, you proceed to the consumption of the loaf.

HOWEVER. Three pounds of meatloaf between two people should result in at least 2 plus pounds being left over. Unless you are complete and utter piggies and you decide to ingest over two pounds of it in one sitting. All I will say is that one person had about a half a pound and the other probably porked down at least the other pound and a half.

The results? Ensuing hilarity.

Stomach Aches

Gaseous Explosions

Crop Dusting

Buddha Bellies

Moans of pain

Utterances of agony

And the best part of all is that I, as in moi, had my ass explode. Literally. My stomach started gurgling anew about 30 minutes after my meal and I felt like I had to fart. But I was afraid to fart because my Early Warning Sharting System (EWSS) pinged me to let me know that there was a good chance that I would shit myself. So I hied my tightly clenched ass cheeks to the nearest crapatorium and wriggled out of my pants as quickly as possible. People, I took my pants completely off and set them aside on the off chance that there was splatter and my pants would be a casualty and thusly be stained with foul liquid. But, the law of the fear of shitting yourself kicked in and I sat on the throne for 10 minutes before I felt another gluteal ping. It was then that I expended a fart that could rattle the bowels of hell itself and send the devil shaking under his bed. And after all that, there was very little poo. Just enough to hurt my very sensitive anal area, but not enough to do any real damage.

So? Crisis averted.

Not so much.

After I got my the pins and needles out of my legs it wasn't but another half an hour before the rumbly in my tumbly sent me back to John T Crapper. Then the magic happened. By the end of my experience, I had completely covered the toilet in what one can only describe as a coating of brown acid rain. My legs AND my arms went to sleep from all of the clenching. There were points where the need for a fire department and/or ambulance was discussed and dismissed, but it was a near thing.

All I could do afterwards was pray to God that I had expelled everything from my esophagus to my anus. It was the equivalent of a self-induced colonoscopy except there was no lube and afterwards, I had to climb in the sink and hose my rectum out with the sprayer set to jet stream.

Did I mention that it was the KITCHEN sink?

So? The moral of this story is that my meatloaf is excellent. In portioned amounts. But when someone with a highly sensitive stomach ingests about 4 times her body weight in beef, bad things..... very, very bad things might happen.

I still feel dirty.

And I think I owe my friend a new toilet.

The end.

Looking at Myself

2010-04-07T07:09:00.002-04:00

Yesterday, I was forced to take a long, hard look at myself. To see myself the way that other people might see me and let's just say that I didn't like what I saw.

I have spent the last few months closing myself off from the world. In an attempt to avoid getting hurt by others, I have in fact hurt people who care about me. By building walls around my heart, I not only protected myself from getting hurt, but I have hurt myself by not letting other people in. I have not only been unable, or unwilling to reach out to friends and loved ones, but I have pushed them away. I have ignored phone calls and e-mails and not returned any attempts to contact me unless I had no other choice.

God what a selfish bitch I am. I have been so caught up in my own life that I have become less of the person I thought I was and more like a person I NEVER want to be, ever. I have been self-indulgent and I have boo-hooed and moped around like I am the only person to ever have had bad things happen to me. Instead of getting back to the person I should be, I have become a sad shell of my former self.

This is not to say that there haven't been reasons for my recent behavior. I am going through a lot right now and some of this has been caused by the medication and the sadness that comes from feeling like my 32-year old body has somehow betrayed me. I think if all of my doctors did a test, they would find that I am more like a sexagenarian than someone in the prime of their life and that has made me sad. (I did however fit sex into this paragraph, so perhaps all is not lost.)

But now I say nay, nay. No more. It is still within my reach to be me. To be a better friend and sister and daughter and especially, a better mother. I have help. I have friends. I have people who want to help take care of me if only I would let them. I am sick of being afraid of getting hurt and burned. SEE: ex-egg donor, ex-men, ex-friends, etc.

This is not to say that I am going to let people use me. My dad has this famous saying - "you deserve what you tolerate." So while I refuse to tolerate, or have in my life, people who don't care for me, I also have a responsibility to care for the good people that I do have and to show them how much I love them in return.

By opening up your heart, you risk getting hurt. But by not opening up your heart, you will never truly feel anything.

Someone very special to me sent this quote a while back and I was at first offended. Why? Because it was forcing me to look at myself in a light that I didn't want to see. But now, I understand it. I get it. And I certainly don't want a heart that is irredeemable.

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.” C.S.Lewis

Fight for This Love

2010-04-06T01:01:00.003-04:00

I just can't get enough of this song.

It's been in my head and my heart for weeks now.

It makes me sad that people just give up. They give up hope and they give up on each other. It's easier to give up than it is to stand your ground and fight for what you believe in. It's easier to pretend in your head that the past never existed or that you were a different person when you play the scenes backwards in your head. It's easier to run from yourself and everyone you ever cared about and lie and hurt than it is to be a good person and take responsibilities for your actions.

I wish we could all live in that world. But instead, most of us live in this world. The one where you are supposed to honor your promises and stand by someone's side instead of sucking up everything that they have to give - like a leech - and giving nothing real and true of yourself in return.

If you think this post is about you, it probably isn't. The person that this post was specifically aimed at is long gone out of my life and wouldn't know how to be a better person if it hit them in the face with brass knuckles. It is just amazing that time doesn't heal all wounds. Some of them are just beneath the surface.

Of course a little bit of this post could be about you. Because it is targeted at the loss of a friendship. And Lord knows I have had enough shit people in my life that I have mistaken for being true friends, when they were only friends of convenience.

And I don't care if no one likes this song. I do. And it makes me feel better and worse at the same time. So suck it.

Broken

2010-04-05T12:37:00.003-04:00

I am broken now

Only time will tell

What it takes to ease this soul

Your company

Such misery

No sympathy

The road that leads to perfidy

My eyes close

I view the abyss

The spiral staircase ends in mist

No sight

No sound

Just emptiness

Charon waits

Afloat on the River Styx

Do I turn to him

Embrace the nothingness

To ease the troubled suffering

Or do I trade my shields in

For stronger Mail

And protect anew

My every cell

I am broken now

Only time will tell

Spring Cleaning

2010-04-04T23:48:00.002-04:00

To be done in bullet points, because I love them so.....

Get rid of as much negativity in my life as possible. People who hurt you and constantly bring you down are not good for your soul.
Organize my clothing and shoes. My goal is to delete at least half of both my wardrobe AND my shoe collection. Shock and Awe people, SHOCK AND AWE.
Focus on my health. Both physical and mental.
Physical Health - I have recently started a new regimen of medication for a disorder that I have and it is kind of kicking my ass. But I have accepted that this is something that there is no cure for and that I have to buckle down and do something about it now before it gets out of hand.
Mental Health - I started seeing a new therapist recently. She is half Jewish and half Catholic and knows all about guilt. I like her sense of humor and raspy voice.
More Physical Health - I am in love with Yoga. I am making a concerted effort to take three classes a week for the next two months. This will help me in so many ways and my doctors have all said that it is something that is both safe and beneficial for me to do.
Go see my family in the next two months. I haven't seen them since last summer and I feel like I need their support more than ever now.
Get better. Be better. A better mother, a better friend, a better writer, a better member of the human race.
Work....... - work is difficult to say the least. I will be taking a short leave of absence from my job due to the medication that I am on, but I hope that when I get back to fighting shape that I will be better than ever.
Focus on family. My children are the two most important people in my life and they always will be. My priority is that they are both happy, well-adjusted children who wake up every day knowing how much I love and cherish them.
Find Inner Strength and Peace - not an easy task. Like Ru Paul says "If you can't love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love anybody else? Can I get an amen?" Love her!!!!
Remember who I am and who I want to be - those two things are very difficult. I have changed and evolved so much over the last couple of years that I think my true self has fallen by the wayside. I remember the days of yore when I felt creative and funny and witty and sarcastic. Now I struggle to get through each day. It is difficult enough to be going through this medical thing alone, but because of the person I am now, I no longer have a strong support system behind me. I let people I care about drift out of my life and I have embraced my loneliness. I am more like a hermit now than the fun loving, carefree girl of the past. I want to get back some of myself.
Have fun with life again - I realize now that I no longer need to prove myself to anyone but me. I think recognizing that and working through those issues in therapy will allow me to enjoy living once again without the ups and downs and drama that has plagued me.
Learn to forgive - I will never forget the hurtful things that others have done to me, but I am working on forgiveness. I don't want to grow old and bitter.

I think that's enough for now. I will be lucky to get a few of these things checked off of my list. My heart, mind and soul are very heavy right now. I can't help but think about the past 30 plus years and wonder how it all went by so quickly and what will be in store for me in the future. It's so uncertain right now. The only truth I know is that my life needs to evolve into something more than it is right now. Even if that means getting dressed in more than track pants and tennis shoes. (Have I mentioned that lately I have taken to only wearing drawstring track pants and tennis shoes/flip flops and T-shirts for the last 3 weeks?) I have a dear, dear friend's wedding coming up soon and I need to at least get these roots seen to, don't I?

All of my love to you and yours.

The Other "F" Word

2010-03-23T21:02:00.002-04:00

If anyone out there still reads this blog, then you know that I am not shy when it comes to the spewing forth of swear words. I bandy them about like condoms in a sex-ed class. In fact, I have even taught you all how to swear in multiple foreign languages and I have created some words that people still use on a daily basis.

That being said, there is something that I have never, ever done. Neither on this blog or in real life. What's that you ask? I know, it seems almost impossible, or at least highly improbably, that there is anything that I would think crosses the line, but even I have my limits and one of those limits is the use of slurs. I think that if you don't like someone, there are better ways of letting your dislike known. For example, I once called my neighbor a cum-guzzling twatmonger and I still stand by those words. Adam and I have insulted each other numerous times over the years and we LIKE one another. But I choose to be more creative with my insults. Instead of disparaging someone's race or creed or sexual orientation, I like to be a little more inventive and a lot less trite and tired with my insults.

Most of the time, when I do this, I mean no harm. There are others out there who do though and it seems that they have passed this little affliction down to their children.

The reason I am bringing this up is because while having dinner with my children this evening, my daughter was telling me about a boy that she has been having problems with in school all year. He has harassed her and bullied her, but she fights back and I am usually one to let kids be kids and not get involved unless something crosses the line.

I am seriously considering getting involved now.

Why?

Because the kid called my daughter the "F" word. No, not fucker or fuckhead or fucking bitch as I originally thought, but "faggot". Whether or not he knew better is irrelevant. At thirteen years old, there are things that you KNOW not to do. If she was black, I don't think he would have dared to call her the "N" word. But these kids throw words around without thinking about the consequences. At their age, labels and words hurt. It is difficult enough being a teenaged kid, but to have other children out there shooting off insults without thinking that they could be doing serious harm disturbs me.

And it isn't SD that I am worried about. She can take care of herself and while I won't say in detail what she did, I do believe that the boy will think very hard before he tries to insult her again in any way. I am proud of her for standing up for herself. It has nothing to do with sexual orientation and everything to do with being a better person. I have several people that I am very close to and whom have gotten me through extremely difficult times that I am PRIVILEGED to call my friends, who happen to be gay. It means nothing to me. I could care less if they were fucking eunuchs or leprechauns or had tails growing out of their ears. The only thing I care about is who they are as people.

Why oh why am I rambling on about this subject? Because it matters. Because there are people out there who are constantly being subjected to cruel and vicious statements and actions just because of who they are. And also? I am saddened by what I heard today. I don't want my children to be around ignorant and intolerant people, but there is no way to keep that from happening, so I try to teach them how to be good people.

And if they were to judge others, it would hopefully be on their woeful lack of fashion skills and ugly shoes as opposed to things that they themselves can not help.

But that's just me.

As for the rest, I think I am going to start by sending an e-mail to the school principal. I don't believe that these kids even realize how badly their words could hurt if said to the wrong person.

What do you think internet? Should I just let this go as an episode of kids being kids, or should I say something about it? I don't want to blow anything out of proportion, but it just doesn't seem right to me........

For K

2010-03-14T14:28:00.002-04:00

I rolled over this morning and looked into a pair of shining brown eyes. His grin was infectious as we cuddled and all I could think about was how happy he makes me every day of my life.

We don't spend nearly as much time together as we used to now, but we try to make the most of the time we have. Some days we go out to dinner and a movie, some days we just hang out. We talk about all sorts of things, big and small. The past, the present and the future. Sometimes he gets mad at me and some days I get irritated, but every day I wake up and thank God for his presence in my life and the blessings that he has brought to me.

On bad days, when I feel like a total failure, he can cheer me up with a sunny smile or a silly joke.

He has a quick wit and great sense of humor. He also has a quick temper. He is sweet and funny and one of my favorite people in the whole wide world.

I know that one day he won't want to cuddle with me anymore. One day he will grow up and start spending more time with his friends than he does with me. One day he will go off to college. One day he might marry a girl who will never, ever be good enough for him. One day he might have children of his own. One day he might move far away from me and I will be heartbroken.

But every single day of his life, he will always be my son. I love him with every breath I take and I would do anything for him. He is a light in my life. He is my Little Bear and no matter how big he gets I will always see my sunny little boy.

The Doctor

2010-03-10T10:01:00.003-05:00

I have to go to the doctor today.

I am thinking about canceling my appointment.

Doctors scare me and this one in particular scares me mightily.

I am afraid of what I might hear. I am also afraid of what I might not hear. It's unnerving to say the least.

I have been the biggest procrastinator my entire life and never more so than recently. I am stuck in a quagmire and I know I am sinking, but I just can't seem to find the reason to pull myself out of it anymore. The world keeps spinning on its axis and rotating around the sun, but I keep sinking lower and lower into the pit and the sun seems too far away to ever reach now.

I don't feel funny anymore. My inspiration comes from my dreams and they are not what I would deem pleasant. Not nightmares, but a hash reality of life vividly brought forth by my desperation and imagination. Where am I going? What am I doing? How will I get there? Do I even care anymore?

Sinking, sinking, sinking. Ever slowly down into the abyss.

Where are you when I need you? My inner self and most inspired and trusted confidant?

I don't even talk to myself anymore.

Goodbye Tennessee

2010-03-01T00:33:00.003-05:00

She sat quietly, not moving in a room that was once filled with love. Laughter. Smiles. Happiness. Then a a random song came on the radio.... "God help me, keep me moving somehow. Don't let me start wishing I was with him now. I've made it this far without crying a single tear........."

The tears started rolling down her face leaving angry red welts in their path. She never could figure out how to cry pretty like all of the other girls.

That one song and with it the memory. Taking her back to Tennessee. Sitting on a rooftop, hearing that same song while the summer heat beat down on the tops of her thighs. Feeling like she could conquer the world. Not knowing that in a few months her world would stop. Shatter really. All of the dreams she had made, all of the plans for the future derailed completely like a freight train wreck.

She could see it in her head, the steam from the locomotive that just couldn't keep moving along the tracks hissing in the cold night air. The wheels kept trying to move, but there was nowhere left to go. The tracks were in a shambles, twisted pieces of metal littering the landscape. A great analogy of her life now. Off those carefully laid tracks and crumpled beyond repair.

It all seemed so helpless and hopeless. Listless, she just sat and thought and thought and thought. Reviewing in her mind snapshots of a life past, present and future. But the future wasn't there anymore. No, that had changed. It was gray and murky; hazy like fog on a San Francisco morning.

Directionless, she switched off the lamp and walked into her bedroom, climbed under the covers and prayed. She prayed for those she loved and those she lost. She prayed that when she woke up, it would all be a bad dream.

The Dare

2010-02-27T08:30:00.003-05:00

"You're not really going to do this, are you?" He looked nervous, as if somehow, the calm ocean in front of them was only capable of doing something horrible to her.

She stood in front of him clad only in her little blue bikini with its tropical flowers strategically placed, head up, looking him in the eye. "What kind of person would you think I was if I backed down from the challenge that YOU issued! I am going in that water and that's that. Although at this time of the year, I am sure that it's freezing cold. I can't believe you dared me to dive in. My nipples are hard enough to cut glass just thinking about that freezing water and here you stand in your warm comfy robe laughing at me."

Glaring at him for only a second, her face broke out into a wide grin when she looked into his sparkling green eyes. They weren't quite the color of the pale water in front of them, but good God, they still had the power to melt her and interfere with her thoughts. Shaking her head to clear it, she let out a whoop and a yell that would have made her warrior ancestors proud and raced into the water, diving under a wave. Instantly, the frigid cold of the water stole her breath away as her head broke the surface. She was used to the cold, but holy shit, this was enough to cause one of her chattering teeth to chip.

She ran back out of the water, droplets clinging to every curve and dip on her skin. Sparkling in the early morning sunlight, those little bits of water made her look like she was covered in diamonds. As she walked toward him, they both started laughing. He wrapped her in a robe as they fell onto a chaise lounge and held her to him tightly, warming her all over.

"I win, she said. And now you have to pay up."

"Name your price lover. You can have anything you want. You win and I lose." He leaned down so that their foreheads were touching and then pulled back and kissed her on the nose. When he saw the glint in her eyes, he knew he was in some serious trouble. What he heard next were the words he had waited his entire life to hear and he never tired of hearing them.

"You. I want you. Now and always."

She smiled as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her up the beach and back into their cottage. Too bad, she thought. Those breakfasting on the beach could have gotten an extra treat with their morning coffee and bagels. He laid her onto the bed and then she stopped thinking at all.

One Place, Two Place, Bad Place, Good Place

2010-02-26T09:53:00.002-05:00

I've packed a lot of living into the first 32 years of my life. I've lived in 10 states and 1 other country. I have been to 40 states and about a dozen other countries. I have moved over two dozen times. Changed schools. Met new people. Worked new jobs. Lived, laughed, loved, cried, mourned, changed, evolved. I have made babies and begun the process of raising them to be good, caring, compassionate, productive people. I have been a bitch. I have made mistakes. I have prayed. I have LIVED.

But I don't think I have ever experienced the roller-coaster of emotions the first 31 years of my life that I have experienced over the last year. The great thing about blogging is that I get to pick and choose what I share, and I haven't shared much of what I have been going through. That isn't going to change. But today I feel a bit like I woke up in the middle of a Dr. Seuss book and the world isn't what I thought it should be at all. Except Dr. Seuss books are bright and cheerful and there is always a moral to those stories and I woke up this morning in a world where there are no colors and no direction. I am feeling very lost today. Cast adrift without paddles if you will. I don't know what way to go or where to turn or even who to turn to right now.

I want to huddle up under a pile of blankets until it all goes away.

I really felt like I was in a great place this time yesterday. How quickly can things change in 24 hours. I have a lump in my throat the size of a softball. I am fucking miserable. It isn't often that I dream of being a kid again, because, hello? crappy childhood, but today I wish I had a snow day. One where the world is bright and white and pure. Before there are any footprints in the yard. Before the first sled goes down the hill. Shaking with the anticipation of fun things to come. Knowing that there is that drop in the stomach - but in a fun way - feeling right around the corner when I whizz down a sledding hill. Not having a worry or care in the world about the next day. Playing and laughing and jumping in the snow and throwing snowballs and building forts and just being a kid. I was a child for 18 years, but I barely remember ever being a kid.

I am quite maudlin today. Hopefully I wake up tomorrow and it's a snow day.

Where I Find the End of the Rainbow - Killing Someone

2010-02-15T23:48:00.002-05:00

Holy shit! I just realized that writing is such a great outlet for aggression. Especially when you get to kill people. In a book or a short story or whatever.

*Evil Cackle*

I might totally suck at this, but I HAVE to try. It is like a siren's song in my blood. Urging me onward. Everything in the universe is pointing towards this. All of the support from my loved ones says it is the time to take the next step towards my biggest dream and also my biggest fear.

I love the written word. I always have. I suck up books like a vampire drains blood... avidly and with great enthusiasm. It is as if I would die if I didn't get to take some time out of my day to read. I own thousands of books and I have read every one of them at least once and a lot of them twice or more. For me, getting lost in a story is about being entertained not only by what is written, but by what hasn't been said. The things that I think about. What happens to this person or that person AFTER the story ends?

This feels almost like waiting for a baby to be born. You know that it's coming, but you don't know how it will turn out. Being an incubator for something that could be amazing, or average or even horrible. All I know is that I am dying to give birth and since I can't have physical babies anymore, at least now I can nurture and grow the things living inside of my own head.

I just realized that I might sound a little bit crazy. But that's OK. I have visions of Hemingway and ghosts in my head. Stories of what I know writhing inside, fighting to get out, but only on my terms will they be allowed to do so. I wake up in the middle of the night with thoughts jumbled in my mind. Dreams in color and visions so bright that I KNOW deep inside of me, it is my inner self screaming to be heard.

Hell yeah.

I am excited and terrified at the same time. Both reasons I haven't made even the teensiest baby step toward something I have longed for since the 12th grade when my BEYOTCH of an English Teacher put down my writing as mediocre and rambling. She made me doubt myself and I let her feed the insecurities that I had grown up with. I let other people constantly tell me that I wasn't good enough to do - fill in the blank.

No longer.

Now it is up to me to do what I want to do. And thank God I have the cast and crew supporting me all of the way. People who not only believe in me, but who are pushing me to go outside of my own comfort zone and follow my dreams. To stop talking and start doing.

Back Off Bitch

2010-02-14T22:10:00.002-05:00

I just deleted an entire post of crap. Total and complete crap.

I was going to write something witty about personal space, but as I kept reading and re-reading it, I realized that it was total shit.

So I deleted the whole freaking thing.

Le sigh.

I am a little bit directionless today. But that's OK. I am learning to roll with it when life doesn't quite go my way. I am no longer living in fear of embracing happiness. I am following the advice of others and learning to grow and expand and laugh and love like I never have before.

So when before, I would have written this post over and over again until it was perfect, I am now just putting up something different. Because? It doesn't have to be perfect. It just has to be something that I like. Something that comes from the heart. Something that is what I am feeling and is for me and me alone. And it no longer matters if what I write is enjoyed or laughed over. It only matters that this is by me, for me.

Frankenfinger

2010-02-04T23:51:00.004-05:00

Lord in heaven!!!

So....... I spent a large part of Tuesday night in the ER. Why you ask? Hmmmmmmm.

I love to cook. Because I love to cook, I own very nice, very sharp knives. In all of the years that I have been using said knives, I have never cut myself while cooking. Not one time. Which is really hard to believe if you know me because I am basically a walking disaster of clumsiness. I fall UP stairs. I fall down stairs. I trip. I run into walls. I get bruises I have no recollection of ever getting in the first place. But I think because of my ineptitude, I am hyper vigilant while using knives. I get these flashes of severed fingers running through my brain and since I like all of my fingers, I try really hard not to cut one off.

Any other time though? Not so careful. Obviously.

I was washing dishes on Tuesday night, when an extremely large, brand new knife that I bought myself for Christmas decided to eat the end of my left ring finger. We are talking blood gushing all over the place and me shaking and crying like a crack head going through withdrawal. The cut was so deep that I couldn't even see how deep it really was. I called my girlfriend over because my first aid kit was empty and SHE told me to go to the ER. This is a person who avoids hospitals at all costs.

Long story short? (Because that is what writing is all about right? SHORTENING stories.) I ended up with four stitches and a tetanus shot. The worst part was the numbing shot. The dude stuck the needle right into the end of my fucking finger and I thought I was going to jump out of my skin it hurt so badly. My finger now looks like it was sewn together with the skin of the various victims of Buffalo Bill from "The Silence of the Lambs."

"It rubs the lotion on the skin or else it gets the hose again."

It still hurts. Really hurts. And I am a big baby. And I don't fucking care.

But the BEST part of the night was that my 13 year old daughter went with me and the Triage Nurse thought she was one of my friends. When I explained that she was my daughter she was flabbergasted. So that was nice.

Please view the Frankenfinger ONLY and not the person behind it. I am a hot mess in this picture:

At least I will get a cool scar out of it!!!

Finding My Happy Again

2010-01-31T22:20:00.003-05:00

I have vacillated about writing this past year. It's not that I don't love writing, I do. It's more that I have been struggling with personal issues for so long that I just let that love wither and wilt.

But I am really going to try to write. I am not going to give myself rules about writing. I am not going to say that I will post at least three times a week, or that I will write in my notebook every night. I think that is just setting myself up for failur

e. And how does one really fail at something like writing? My words co

me from the heart. They have never been premeditated for laughter or comments or praise or approval. NEVER

EVER. My words have been a very simple expression of myself. I am at my best when I just let things flow straight from my heart or gall bladder or axillary or wherever those words come from.

But I feel like I have gotten some of my happiness back

again. And happiness truly does come from within. Sure there have been people who have contributed to my happiness. Friends, family and lov

ed ones. But I am going to take credit for most of this. Because I could have easily let myself wither up and die... but I didn't. I fought. And I am still fighting. Because? That is who I am. I am a fighter. Sometimes the fight gets me down and leaves me weary and my heart is troubled. But at the end of the day, when I lay my head on my pillows at night, I know who I am inside. And I like myself.

Of course, spending the last week of January on

Maui helped me get back to center. So here are a few pictures of a place that I have ABSOLUTELY fallen in love with. I would go back in a heartbeat.

Sunrise at Mt. Haleakala

My mom and I at dinner

Sunrise over the water at the Lava Flow

Finally, I would like to thank my mom. She had some wonderful words of wisdom for me while we were in Maui together. She also gave me a journal at the end of our trip and this is what she wrote inside of it:

"Dear ADW,

Thank you for a wonderful vacation. This is for your writing - I love your stories.

Forever.

Love,

Mom

Jan 2010"

Thanks mom!!!

Two Kinds of People

2009-10-01T11:10:00.001-04:00

There are two kinds of people.....

Those who pee in the shower and those who don't.

Illin'

2009-09-30T08:29:00.002-04:00

Blech, blech, blech......

I have green snot, I can't breathe and my head is stuffed up.

I am sick, sick, sick.

However, they say that every cloud has a silver lining. Well, assholes, I keep looking but I can't find the silver. I would settle for aluminum at this point, but I got nuthin'.

It's very difficult to be sick with two very active children and a high-pressure career.... So I am hauling my - getting larger every day - ass to the doctor for some drugs. Any drugs will do right now.

Amen

Laughing Out Loud

2009-09-25T09:33:00.002-04:00

I have been one very moody bitch lately..... Luckily I have great people in my life to pull me out of my snits.

I just thought I would share the FUNNIEST thing I have heard in a really, really, really long time.

So this week, I asked someone "What do you call Semen with no sperm in it?" And without missing a beat, he replied "A delicious breakfast drink."

I peed a little and I'm not ashamed of it.

Amen

So Creative.....

2009-09-21T08:37:00.003-04:00

To take a break from my regularly scheduled bitching and moaning, I would like to present one of the most creative people that I have the pleasure of having in my life. She is brilliant and amazing and caring and loving and I have the ultimate gift of calling her mom.....

http://bluerosesewing.blogspot.com/

If you take a few minutes to check out her site and send her some love, it would be much appreciated. Not only is she successful in the business world, but she is ridiculously creative.

We all have our own gifts, but damn so I wish I could sew.

Amen

Let Down

2009-09-11T07:59:00.002-04:00

I have been feeling lately like the world has let me down. I heard some disturbing news the other day about someone that I thought was a friend of mine. Now I know that is not true. The relationship I thought we had was more about convenience and proximity than any real kind of friendship. And it pisses me the fuck off. Seriously.

I see a therapist and I have been since the beginning of the year. She has helped me tremendously. I get these waves of guilt and frustration and anger and about a million other emotions that just wash over me when I think about the past nine years of my life. And guess what? It's not all my fault. For once, I am going to try to take other peoples' advice and realize that I do not have to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.

So to all those people out there who were friends of convenience? The ones who only wanted to be around me during the good times? Yeah. You. Go fuck yourselves. I think you suck. And I do not need people like you in my life anymore.

Amen.

A New Post

2009-09-05T20:10:00.002-04:00

It has been months and months since I have written ANYTHING. This used to be the place where I would let all of my emotions spill out. The place where I felt free to say anything I wanted to say. But for a while the words just dried up for me. I couldn't completely explain what I was feeling inside. Not even in my blog.

In the months of my hiatus, there has been a whirlwind of change in my life. And I do not feel the need to elaborate on my situation or to share it with anyone. And by anyone, I really mean the zero people that come here now. But I am cool with that. When I first started posting, there was not a soul who read me and I was doing it for my own benefit. I think I need to get back to the basics. I need to get back to the time when this place was a safe haven for me to say anything I wanted to without feeling like I was offending anyone.

So I am back. Whether or not I still have anything in me to write has yet to be determined, but I'll be damned if I quit writing all together. This is a form of therapy for me and I want to give it another shot.

Besides.... nobody will be reading this anyway. I am positive that I am out of the feed readers at this point and I don't think I am half as funny as I used to be.

So this is for me. For my sense of well-being.

And if you don't like it.... suck a bag of dicks.

Amen.

The 45

2009-03-04T22:04:00.003-05:00

I am bored having sat in front on my 'puter for the last 5 hours and worked, so I need a mental break. What better way than sharing way too much information about myself with the blogosphere.

1. Do you like blue cheese? Not really. I like yellow cheese. Or sometimes white cheese. I also do not like cottage cheese.

2. Have you ever been drunk? Well, I was feeling really kinky this one time in the bathtub and gave him a straw to use. Does that count?

3. Do you own a gun? Not yet. But I will be getting one as soon as I learn how to use it. I have to travel to some really BAD places now. But I don't want to accidentally shoot myself... so I need some lessons. And a license. Right now the only licenses I have are my driver's license and my License to Ill

4. What flavor of Kool Aid is your favorite? the kind with vodka in it.

5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? I used to. But since she started using the KY it's not as painful.

6. What do you think of hot dogs? I think people who show off have something to hide.

7. Favorite Christmas movie? I am secretly turned on by the Grinch.

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? The last of the beer from the night before.

9. Can you do push ups? I can do push-up. One. I'm weak.

10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? Cock Rings. They go with everything.

11. Favorite hobby? Barking at people. Or chasing cars.

12. Do you have A.D.D. ? What's that? I might. I can't remember. Oh look at the pretty bird. What was the question?

13. What's your favorite shoes? Are you kidding me? Do you people not know me yet?

14. Middle name? I have three.

15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment? What to do? What to do? What to do?

16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink? Captain Morgan's. Diet Coke. Captain Morgan's and Diet Coke.

17. Current worry? LIFE

18. Current hate right now? LIFE

20. How did you bring in the New Year? Where did #19 go? Did it disappear? Is it hiding? Why do you mess with me so?

21. Where would you like to go? Anywhere I can be happy, healthy and whole again.

22. Name three people who will complete this? I wish this question disappeared and not #19. I really want to know what it was.

23. an unusual food you tried? Cock. Too salty.

24. What color shirt are you wearing right now? I don't like wearing shirt. They cover up my boobs.

25. Do you like sleeping on Satin sheets? No. The stains show up more vividly.

26. Can you whistle? Only while I work. And only when I put my teeth in.

27. Favorite color? Magenta

28. Would you be a pirate? Um. I am a pirate. Everyone says so.

29. What songs do you sing in the shower? Gimme That Nut by Eazy E

30. Favorite Girl's Name? Why? Really? Who Cares?

31. Favorite boy's name? West Virginia

32. What's in your pocket right now? There are no pockets in my thong.

33. Last thing that made you laugh? The Welshly Arms Hotel

34. Best memories as a child? Being able to hide away in a book.

35. Worst injury you've ever had as a child? Where would I even start? I had to live in a bubble for a week once. That sucked ass.

36. Do you love where you live? Not really.

38. Who is your loudest friend? BBS Where the fuck is #37? Why do these things keep disappearing on me?

39. How many dogs do you have? 2. My cat still has not mastered throwing chinese stars.

40. Does someone have a crush on you? Doesn't everyone?

41. What is your favorite book? I've Got a Major Case of the DT's by Little Brown Jug

42. What is your favorite candy? Jalapeno Jelly Beans

43. Favorite Sports Team? Again.. do you people not know me? I LOVE all sports and refuse to answer this question because it may incriminate me.

44. What is your favorite food at your favorite restaurant? Chilean Sea Bass in a Lemon Butter Sauce from Mallorca. It's about 4500 calories. Good stuff.

45. What song do you want played at your funeral? Whiskey Lullabye

I'm a Hero

2009-02-23T02:00:00.001-05:00

So one of my favorite blogs is Dave2. He is funny and witty and insightful and I stalk his blog all of the time. Plus he has a Bad Monkey and draws some pretty hilarious cartoons. So I totally ripped off his post this last Saturday to create my own Super Hero.

Behold... the awesomeness that is the ADW. I think that is going to stand for Advanced Douchebag Whacker. Or maybe Amazing Dildo Wielder. Or even Astounding Dipshit Wadledoodler. The last one was lame. Sorry. I am drained.

I am bad ass. Do you see my whip? And my angel wings? And the skin tight outfit that totally wouldn't fit me in real life? But in real life I would more likely have devil horns so I am taking creative license to do whatever the fuck I want. So there.

Don't mess with me or I will beat your ass. I will slash you with my whip and then I will pour vinegar on your wounds and then beat a cool breeze down on you with my wings which will make it burn even worse. Then I will crush you with my thighs. Oops. I am confusing Super Hero with James Bond vixen.

Oh snap! Wouldn't a program that allows you to create your own Bond character be totally great? Holy shit. Someone needs to get on that STAT! Not me because you know, completely not creative.... but someone please create that application.

Now I have the urge to make my own Bond Girl. Actually vixen. They are always cooler than the Bond Girls. Like Grace Jones. What a totally kick as bitch she was in "A View to Kill."

OK. I really need to go get ready for a busy day.

Peace out fuckers!

Laughter and an Update

2009-02-19T19:39:00.003-05:00

There is something to be said for the importance of laughter. Especially for me. Laughter gets me through my day and I appreciate when someone else tries to make me smile. I think I have a good sense of humor... although it is a bit infantile at times.

There are so many things in life that I could complain about, but I won't. Instead, I am trying to focus on the good things that are going on and looking at obstacles as a chance to make changes or an opportunity that is presenting itself in a different way.

While it isn't even in my top 100 of favorite songs, Garth Brooks' "Unanswered Prayers" keeps going through my head these days. Maybe some of the things that we think we want or need but don't get are really chances to do something else. Something that can lead to more. More happiness, more contentment, more whatever. And I keep thinking to myself that things could always be worse. I have wonderful children, a supportive circle of friends and family who care about me, a great career that I enjoy more and more all of the time these days. So when I think about the trials and tribulations and the turmoil that has occurred in the past, I have to believe that all of those things came about to bring me to a better place. I don't know where that place is yet, but I have this renewed sense of optimism that it is there just waiting for me to find it.

Whether that place is where I am at right now remains to be seen. As you know, things have been tough, especially emotionally, for a while now. Normally I am not a patient person. OK, I am never patient, but with my new attitude, I feel like if I just wait a while that this good thing I believe is out there will happen. Maybe I am not in the place where I was meant to be, maybe I am. I don't know the answers to that yet. But I do know that there is a spot in the universe where I can be happy and fulfilled.

I just came home from traveling all week and I am really tired. But this weekend, I get to guest bartend at a benefit for the Tay-Sachs foundation. This is a chance for me to do some good. I love Dakota and her entire family and her story has been an inspiration to so many people. And it's going to be a blast. I am in my element when I can be sassy and provocative and there is not better stage that I can think of than slinging drinks to people for a few hours. So I get to help raise money for a wonderful cause and have fun at the same time which a desperately need right now.

As usual, I am rambling and there is no structure or meaning in this post, but there is a point. Sort of. As my life unfolds further, I can't help but feel that there are good things waiting right around the corner. Or maybe a few blocks over. But I want to put the effort into finding out what those things are. I am sick and tired of being unhappy and bitching and moaning about that state. I want to be proactive in my own life for once instead of taking whatever the universe hands me and then crabbing about it. The only person I can blame for my unhappiness is myself because I am allowing myself to be unhappy.

So there.

Heartbroken

2009-01-27T17:05:00.003-05:00

I have been so incredibly sad lately. Sad and heartbroken. In a world where I consider myself a fighter. A big, bad ass, spit in your face as soon as look at you fighter. And I have no fight left in me. I am empty inside.

It's so very difficult to explain to someone what that means. But when you are someone like me, you tend to have an on/off switch. When I was younger, that switch got flipped a lot more. Now with age and experience, I have been able to keep that switch on. Even when everything in me was screaming to turn the it off and shut the door. To walk away and not look back. I have kept the switch turned on. The light bulbs were mostly burnt out, but that didn't stop me from believing that they would turn on again. Now...... well now I think it's time to walk away. Because I can't keep the lights on all by myself. And I am sick to death of trying. If being put into the position where I am a bad - fill in the blank - if I don't keep at it. If I don't do everything possible, I will regret it.

Guess what people? I am not a saint. Not even close to one. In fact, I am the opposite side of the saintly spectrum. I would never intentionally hurt another person, but god damn am I sick of walking around on eggshells and biting my tongue. What about my feelings? You know, I do have feelings. I guess I have been so good at building walls that other people forget that I am a mere human with human emotions. And then I get hurt and I shut down. The switch flips and I am D-O-N-E done.

The last couple of days have been so emotionally draining for me and I feel like pulling my hair out. That or sticking my head in an oven until I look like a crazy Helena Bonham Carter character. I don't really think it's fair that as a woman I am automatically judged by two standards. How good a mother I am and how good a wife I am. That's not fair. Especially since I work in a highly professional world where I am not only at the top of my game, but I am very respected within the market I work. I have busted my ass for the last seven years to make sure that I got where I have and I don't appreciate that being brushed aside because other people think I have to fit into a mommy mold.

Don't get me wrong, the greatest joy in my life are my two children and the fact that I have managed to raise very wonderful kids. But it pisses me the fuck off that I am first judged by those two standards and that I am being made to feel like a failure because one of them isn't doing so well. Again.

I am so over trying to live up to other people's expectations of me - including my family's. I love them, but they can be very judgmental even though they try not to be. I can't stay in a situation that makes me so unhappy. Not for me, not for my children, not for anyone. And the biggest problem is that I am going to end up hurting someone that I truly love. But loving someone and being able to be with them are two different things and I am now starting to recognize that. I am now beginning to understand that I shouldn't have to be hurt over and over again by someone who should cherish me. And before you start the lynching, let me just say that it doesn't meant that they are a bad person, because they are the opposite of that. But I just can't live like this anymore.

I don't care if anyone reads this. Or my blog anymore for that fact. I am going back to what I originally set this up for and that is an outlet for my emotions. Good, bad or ugly this is the place where it's all going to come out, so hold on to your cocks.... it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

Tay Sachs Fundraiser - I'll Dance on the Bar

2009-01-23T23:38:00.003-05:00

Hey everyone! I thought I would post this so that anyone who is interested in attending would be able to do so.

As many of you know, my wonderful friends Julie and Ken Bihn have two great daughters. Their oldest daughter plays soccer with my daughter and I have been so very blessed to have their family touch my life. Their younger daughter Dakota has Tay Sachs disease and for anyone who is interested in learning more, please click on the link on the upper right hand side of the page.

Ken and Julie are truly an inspiration to everyone around them and have raised a huge amount of money for Tay Sachs research and we all believe that there will one day be a cure for this disease. Several months ago, Julie and I were brainstorming and came up with a great idea! Why not have a fundraiser at a bar? Sell tickets, eat and drink, have a raffle and dance. So with the help of the Blue Moose Saloon in Parma, Ohio (where I once bartended), we have finally planned our event. February 21st - a Saturday - from 6:30 - 8:30 we will be holding the fundraiser. Julie and I (no offense Julie, but please put emphasis on the I), will be guest bartending (-=. The tickets are 25.00 each and 15.00 from each ticket will be donated to the Cure Tay Sachs foundation. The other 10.00 will go to the restaurant to pay for the food and the drinks. There will be a reverse raffle as well and I think we probably have a couple of surprises up our sleeves for other things.

If anyone is interested in attending, please let me know. I am aware that most of you are from out of town, but if any of you know people in the Cleveland area who would want to come, please encourage them to do so. We have just under a month to sell our tickets and I am hoping that we get at least 200 people there which would be such a great thing.

If you can't go or aren't interested, I completely understand. With everyone's lives so busy, it is understandable that you can't do it all.

Please pray that there is no snow that day!

Also, if you get me in a REALY good mood, we might end up dancing on the bar which is a hit no matter where you are, so win/win.

Thank you all for your support of my friends and their foundation.

ADW

Nashville

2009-01-19T14:35:00.003-05:00

After all of the emotional turmoil of the last few weeks, I felt like I was going to have a nervous breakdown. So, bronchitis, ear infection and all, my girlfriend and I took off for Nashville on a spur of the moment trip. Oh my God was that amazing!

First of all, who in their right mind decides to take a three day weekend at 7:00 PM on a Friday night and is on the road by midnight? But we did. We packed up and I went and picked her up at her place. I made hotel reservations at the Hilton in Downtown Nashville two hours before I left.

At the start of the trip, my GPS said that we would be arriving at 8:49 AM. Our actual arrival time was 6:03 AM. Tee-Hee. I knocked almost 2 hours off of the drive time and totally forgot about the hour time difference. Luckily the hotel was amazing (plus I am an Honors member) and they let us check in super early.

The weekend was amazing. We went to the Country Music Hall of Fame - which I like better than the Rock Hall. We had AMAZING BBQ at Jack's on Broadway. We went to a bunch of bars, met some of the nicest people around and ended up at Tootsies Wild Orchid which is a Nashville tradition where most, if not all of the country music legends have played.

And I danced on the bar.

And I only got into one altercation.

The music? Defies description. Hands down the best live country/rock/honky tonk music I have ever heard. And the crazy thing is that there are NO cover charges at any of these bars. The bands play for FREE. They pass out tip buckets and play requests for tips. Now trust me, this weekend, the guys and gals were raking it in, but not one time all evening on Saturday did any of the bands we see take a break. They played all night long and their voices somehow managed to stay intact.

The fiddle player was the best thing I saw all night. Beautiful and talented, this young woman (Cara was her name) set the roof on fire with her playing. I wouldn't have been surprised to see fire shooting off of her instrument. I am so jealous!

Sunday wasn't as nice since we were both recovering from drinking half the rum in the city, but we went out and had brunch, a nap and then went back out for dinner. It was a relatively early night for us and we are now on the road back to Cleveland.

But if anyone is interested in taking a trip to Nashville, I would highly recommend it. Maybe not in January - it was a little chilly- but if you like live music, friendly people and a god time, Nashville can't be beat.

Thanks to everyone for their support and love these last few days.

ADW

Complete and Utter Frustration

2009-01-16T18:01:00.002-05:00

Eeekkk!!

Honestly, it seems like all I do these days is bitch and complain and moan without imparting a whole lot of information on why I am really upset. I kind of feel like this blog is a waste of time. I don't really have a whole lot of time to focus on writing anymore and it has always been such a big outlet to me. I am not a good blogger because I haven't been commenting, even though I do still read a lot of the blogs I always read before. So I am trying to figure out if I should even try to keep the blog.

It's not that I don't want to write, I do. But my focus has been so pulled lately that it is making me nuts. I don't like doing anything half-assed and it feels like that's what has been posted up here for the last year.

Plus, well, the personal life ain't so great. I am constantly feeling alone in a house full of people. It's hard to explain and I have been hanging on for so long that I am this giant, nuclear melt-down type of breaking point. I try to explain it to friends and family but they honestly don't get it. You can't when you aren't in someone else's life 24/7.

There was a major ultimatum given in my house 2 months ago and while on the surface things have changed, underneath it is the same old shit. The crazy thing is that I have such a low threshold for bullshit and drama in my personal life that I can not believe that things have gotten as bad as they are.

So now, in two weeks, we have the ultimate showdown. I didn't want to do it. I really didn't, but my hand was forced. I wanted the other person to take some responsibility and take the next step. But they are satisfied with the status quo and don't want anything to rock their happy little boat. God forfuckingbid that your life changes so mine can get better. If this last thing doesn't work, my life is going to get even more complex. And maybe I am being lazy too. Instead of trying to make it better for me, I am just making everyone else around me miserable.

I don't want to be that bitter, unhappy person that I knew the whole time I was growing up. I'd rather be alone.

I don't believe in love anymore. Not the kind that lasts. Not a legacy for the following generations. I've never had that. Things that I have so badly wanted out of life just never seemed to appear. And maybe I should be happy with what I have. But I am not the type to settle.

Things could be worse.

That makes me sad that I think that way.

So I keep see-sawing back and forth knowing that if I am forced to make a decision on my own mental health and happiness, I am going to hurt someone that I still care about. Someone I wanted so badly to be a life partner and not a roommate in a house where we share a mortgage. I just feel like breaking down and crying and I don't cry. I hate that emotional outlet because it drains me and really doesn't take care of or fix any of my problems.

I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to be hurt anymore. Nothing is giving.

I feel like the biggest loser in the world. Why can't I make things work? Why can't I just be happy with things the way they are? Why do I always want and need more out of life? Fulfillment? Peace and serenity? A clear path?

I can't answer these questions for myself, so I am going to go to someone else for help. Uh, I'm not so good on relying on other people's opinions... trained or not. And it's almost for me like my mind is made up. Can I really do this? I don't know. I don't know anything right now.

So I will try to not be that compulsive crazy person that I normally am and just TRY.

Fuck

To Smoke or Not To Smoke

2009-01-04T17:01:00.002-05:00

Most of you all know that I am a smoker. For a really long time, my life his kind of revolved around smoking. The ciggies have been a constant companion in my life. They have calmed my nerves and relaxed me. Guided me through tears and turmoil. They have accompanied many a glass, Okay bottle, of wine or run or whatever.

But now, they are gone. My friends and constant companions for the last 16 years have been banished from my life. For the last 87 hours, I have not smoked a cigarette. Not one. At all.

I don't know what to do with myself.

Please do not congratulate me or throw roses at my feet yet. This is the first time I have ever seriously tried to quit smoking. The other two times I stopped, I was pregnant, and I really knew that I would most likely begin again. The thing is I ENJOY smoking. For non-smokers, that is a really hard thing to explain, but it is just that. I KNOW that the chances of me falling off the wagon are very good. My husband already did and we quit at the same time. My one sister also quit and I think she is standing strong too. Last night I almost smoked, but by the time my husband got back with the ciggies, I had passed out cold from exhaustion.

I really, really want to smoke. Even with bronchitis, or walking pneumonia or whatever the hell it is I have this time, I want to smoke so bad it hurts. Anyone who says that they can quit smoking whenever they want is a damned liar. And an asshole. They have never tried it. I guar-an-tee.

So now I have to figure out things to do to keep from smoking and to take up my time:

1. Masturbate - win-win

2. Crochet - will increase my skillz, since it took me 4 years to finish my dad's birthday blanket.

3. Kill my dogs - this will take approximately 8 seconds. 4 to load the gun, 2 to shoot them and 2 to reflect how I should clean up the mess.

4. Kill my dogs - Option #2 - poison. I will have to spend at least 15 minutes each day mixing the poison in with their kibble, so it will have the added benefit of wasting more time. However, they won't be dead as soon, so )-=.

5. Kill my dogs - Option #3 - train my cat to kill the dogs for me. This will ease my conscience (meh) and I will spend even more time training my cat in the deadly art form of Ninja Chinese Star throwing. It will take forever because, well, no opposable thumbs and all. But he is really smart, so I think I can do it.

6. Keep my house clean. Pretty cool, but a lot of work and not as much fun as Cat Ninja Training.

7. Go back to kickboxing class. My ass is huuuuuuuuggggeeee!!!! I need to lose weight and it will help keep my metabolism up which I will need because I am missing the extra metabolism from the cancer sticks.

8. Start running again. I hate running, but it will also help me keep up my metabolism and maybe I will even lose some weight. I am a fat ass.

9. Make a project list. There is an ass load of things that need to be done in my house, so I could put together a list and start on it.

10. Plan my garden for next year.

11. Toilet paper my cunty neighbor's house. This has the added benefit of helping me get rid of some of the ex-smoker's rage that I am carrying around. I swear to God I am ready to kill someone.

My brain is too tired to think of anything else right now.

I have to travel A LOT for the next little while, but here are some dates if anyone is interested in getting together:

Austin, TX - 1/7 - 1/9

Chicago, IL - 1/12 - 1/14

Columbus, OH - 2/1 - 2/3

San Francisco/Silicon Valley, CA - 2/4 - 2/7

BONUS - my mom is going to try and meet me while I am in California. I have to get my itinerary - Thank you craptarded travel site for being down for the last week (I still need to book my Chicago trip too!!!) - and see if I can change my flight to come back on the 8th. I am so excited to see her again so soon and to spend some more time with her. Hopefully it works out. If not though, I am going to plan a special weekend trip with her.

And Everything Is Good

2008-12-31T10:03:00.002-05:00

I am writing this post from South Eastern Georgia. Where the weather is NOT below zero with windchill, I CAN sit outside without getting frostbite and I AM able to spend an entire day in my pajamas. This is what I term a vacation.

I don't need to go on a trip to somewhere exotic or cram a quadrillion activities into a day so that I can see and so everything at once. I don't have to go out every night to some bar or club that is full of douchebags and douchebaggery. I don't feel the urge to do ANYTHING. That to me is a vacation.

All I have done for the last week or so is chill. Even though 3/4th of my family is sick with something, it doesn't matter because we are not in the miserable Cleveland weather. We are in the nirvana of the deep south.

Life is good.

Real life begins again in T Minus 4 days. Oh well. Nothing this good lasts forever.

A safe and happy New Year to everyone.

Life Sucks Assholes

2008-12-04T17:44:00.002-05:00

I honestly am super duper sick of life and all the bullshit crap storms she throws at you every time you turn your head.

I pretty much do not like most people right now and want them to stay the fuck out of my way. I do not want to give to your charity, I do not want to sponsor this or that for you, I do not want to waste anymore time out of my day.

Speaking of my day, I work all of the time now. There is no shut off mode for me. It is high stress all of the time. No breaks, no understanding, just demands. And no support. Not in my professional or my personal life. At least not where it should be.

Maybe it is the situation I am right now in my personal life, or maybe it is the fact that I had an allergic reaction driving to a meeting yesterday and overdosed on Benedryl, but I have been exceptionally bitchy lately. And not even in a fun, ADW bitchy way. More like a mean bitchy way which can be hurtful.

I need to get the fuck out of dodge for a while. Unfortunately, my next get out of Dodge is scheduled for a week and a half of family time in SouthEastern Georgia over the holidays. That might make it even worse.

We shall see.

Inhale

Exhale

Sip from the bottle

Inhale

Exhale

Chug

Inhale

Exhale

Pass Out

Fuck it.

Over It

2008-11-26T00:06:00.000-05:00

I Hate Everyone!!!!!

Over it.

Not Quite a Lady... Bug

2008-11-05T18:55:00.004-05:00

I'm still pissed about missing Adam's Halloween Party. I didn't get to lick his nipples or see Britt sing karaoke again or meet Dave2 or throw up in his bloody pool, or pee in his bushes.

Fuck

I am a little salty because the reason I didn't get to go were Dog #1 and Dog #2 and some emergency surgeries. I now know how much love costs. Five Hundred and Eighty Fucking Five dollars. And Ninety Pissing Six cents.

I did get to go out for halloween though. I had to dress up before Trick or Treating because I wouldn't have had time otherwise and everyone on my street sat at the top of our cul de sac with a portable fire pit and we all handed out candy in a line. I had a few Captain and Diets and the extreme pleasure of seeing SuperCunt's eyes bug out of her head when she got a load of my costume. I haven't gotten all of the pictures yet, but here is one I did manage to get my hands on:

As you can all see, I was a Slutty Bug. My husband was a hillbilly hunter, but instead of a big buck, he got a big fuck that night, so I think we're all good.

Please note the glazed look in my eyes and my attempt to cover up my ass while half-humping my scruffy half.

Of course he is smiling because I was rubbing my dots all over his banana.

But the best part of my costume was my ruffled underoos. I totally found an adult version of the little tot drawers with the lacy ruffles on the bottom. Mine were black with red lace and totally matched my outfit, but the effect was mah-ve-lous.

After we left the party we went to a bar where a bunch of guys my hubs went to high school with were playing and we danced and danced. There was a four way make out which my friend Cool Girl missed because she disappeared.

At the end of the night (read - when they kicked us out of the bar), we went outside to look for Cool Girl and her car, but it was nowhere in sight. Not where we parked it. Fuck. I thought her husband was going to wig.

Then I saw the car facing the opposite direction from which we parked and my girlfriend in the back seat. There was an argument ALL weekend about whether or not she moved it. But the best comment was when she kept saying OVER and OVER all weekend long:

"I can't believe I missed the make out session. I can't believe it. Why didn't you guys come get me?"

...Uh because you dis-a-twatting-peared and we couldn't find you. We probably figured you were on stage hitting the lead singer in the ass with his own tambourine again...

I know you are going to read this fucker!!!

Gastro Pubs and Blow Jobs Again

2008-10-09T23:45:00.002-04:00

I just got home from Chicago. In and out in two days and I am freaking exhausted. The trip wasn't a total waste of time because I took a training class that was actually worth something for once. It was given by actors who help you overcome fears of public speaking and it was both unique and applicable to what I do, so bonus.

My entire group went to dinner last night at a Gastro-Pub. Blech. I will eat a lot of different foods, but two thirds of the menu was shellfish and I am allergic. So I was stuck with a Scotch Egg appetizer - look it up - it's not as bad as it sounds and a salad. It was the worst salad ever created. It tasted like dirt and grapes. The only redeeming thing I had was a very nice variation on a Pinot Noir, so all was not lost.

On to the Blow Jobs. I am not anti-BJ. For me it is kind of like an appetizer though. I much prefer the main course in every meal and I am a fast eater with a short attention span. If I am going to take 5 minutes away from my quest to rule the Universe, then I want to get as much done in that amount of time that I can, so foreplay isn't high on my list. I have shit I need to get done....

I admit it. I am a two pump chump. Sue me.

Oh and to the fucking asshole sitting next to me while I was waiting on my flight today? Never fucking fly again. I was trying to get some work done and she is on her phone the ENTIRE time bitching to whoever was on the other end about everyfuckingthing under the sun. I hate flying. I hate this airport. I am tired. I can't sleep here because someone will rob me. I don't even want to go to Colorado. He is an asshole. He didn't call me to check on me. Blah blah fucking blah. I was ready to reach over and jam her cell phone down her throat so I could have ten minutes of peace and quiet. I do not want to hear you bitch and moan. I want you to shut the fuck up or go away and annoy someone else with your blathering. If you hate to fly, don't do it. You are an adult. So either suck it up and shut your fat face or never step foot in an airport again.

On a positive note, I love Midway Airport in Chicago. It is so much more convenient that O'Shitty. And if anyone has to go to Chicago, I highly recommend the Conrad Hilton. I have stayed there twice now and both times were a wonderful experience. I have been completely spoiled for any other hotels out there. The service is excellent and the rooms are wonderful. The last time I was there, they overbooked and bumped me up to a presidential suite. Now I have travelled quite a bit, but even I was a little in awe of this room which had a balcony the size of my great room overlooking all of downtown Chicago. This time I had a regular room, but the stay was just as pleasant.

I still have a bunch of trips planned, but I will be out in California for a week in November. I do believe I will be chained to a hotel conference room 90% of the time, but I hear they wheel in drinks every once in a while to keep us from rioting.

OK, time for bed.

Good night.

Playing Cards

2008-10-06T01:01:00.000-04:00

My life isn't all about being crazy, beating ass and ruling the world. I also like to hang out with friends and play cards.

So this weekend, some friends were over and we were sitting around my table playing cards. My one buddy decided that this was the right time to bring up blow jobs. Or the lack of desire of American women to partake in making beautiful music with the skin flute.

Here is how the conversation went:

Him: "Did you guys know that only 17% of American women say that they enjoy giving blow jobs?"...in a very puzzled voice.

Husband:".....ruh?"

Me and Girlfriend: "D-U-H"....gagging noises

Him: "But 90% of Austrian women say that they like doing it." Looks at my husband and smirks.

Me: "No fucking shit. Have you seen those bitches that live up in those Alps? They have to contribute something. No fucking kidding that they're willing to suck dick. How else are they supposed to keep the inside of their cheeks warm?"

Now, on to the Costco item of the month. I don't know if you guys have ever stepped foot in the concrete wonder emporium that is the greatest bulk retailer of the world, but it is an addiction of a level known only to crack addicts and Whitney Houston.

This weekend I found my new favorite snack item:

Boulder Canyon Natural Foods - Rice and Adzuki Bean Snack Chips - Chipotle Cheese Flavor

Holy mother of Uranus are these things really freaking good and they aren't even made out of fried potatoes. If you have a chance to try them, do so. Supposedly they are only available at the Big C, but maybe you can get them online.

One warning - they do tend to make you shit rabbit turds.

Hope everyone had a great weekend.

You Must See This

2008-10-03T14:08:00.002-04:00

What is up bitches????

This made me laugh out loud today. So it gets a thumbs up from me. The corn on the cob is my favorite.

Hampton Inn Can Suck a D%^$

2008-09-24T22:23:00.005-04:00

This is my first vlog. I have a few caveats before you watch:

1. It has been a fucking hell of a week. It's only Wednesday. And by hell, I mean 7th Circle Level.

2. No Makeup or Hair people.

3. I am in a really fucking bad mood

Can you tell?

UPDATE - I couldn't even upload this video last night because the hotel Wireless SUCKS!!

Fuck a Blonde

2008-09-15T02:00:00.001-04:00

***Edited to add a Before Picture***

Before:

After:

I get bored easily.....

It's a little hard to tell with my hair up, but it is D-A-R-K!!!

A Month and a Half

2008-09-01T22:27:00.002-04:00

NOTE - I had this all typed out and almost deleted it. The reason that I went ahead and posted it was so I had a record that I could look back on to remind myself how much I really want to make this change. Or as I like to call it "there's no going back now bitch."

I can't believe that I haven't posted for so long. Holy shitballs!!! I thought, "hmm, the world can live without me for a week or two." Yeah, it looks like you guys have been rolling along for much longer than that.

Without a peep? Fuckers.

So, here is a little synopsis of what went on for half of the summer:

Went camping and canoeing down a river
Created the phenomenon that is Mohican River Hooch - recipe to follow sometime soon
Went camping again
Went to Austin, got boatsick
Went canoeing again, made a stronger batch of Hooch, took a shit in the woods and covered it up with diaper wipes, fell out of my canoe and slept for 18 hours straight
Figured out that hangover recovery is much more difficult in my thirties
Came to the conclusion that I need a severe lifestyle change
Tried to strengthen my marital relationship - we are making big strides
Realized that my husband takes really good care of me when I have a little too much Hooch
Took a 3:00 AM trip to WalMart and realized that the freaks really do come out at night
Gained about 10 pounds
Instituted a self-imposed shopping moratorium which lasted for two months
Yes, that means no new shoes either
Got the DT's and realized that the first step is admitting that I have a problem
I am addicted to shoes
Spent time with my kids
Had a kick ass Fourth of July Party in June
Spent a lot of time outside
Did not dance on a bar
Not once
Realized that if you are unhappy in life, YOU are the only person who can change that
With the support of your family of course
Started Kickboxing again
Threatened to cut off my instructor's balls with an X-acto knife

There is a whole shitload of other stuff that went on, including a lot more travel, but who really cares?

I am honestly tired. I now understand that what I am tired of is the direction my life is taking and we are working on a plan to change that. I know that everyone says that you are never too old to make a change, but in doing the math, I have found out that the wheels of change need to be set in motion soon or it really will be too late for me.

However, now that I know that I have my husband's support in this, we are going to start taking those steps. I have never loved what I do as a profession. It was something that I sort of fell into and have done very well, but I have no passion for it. My real passion lies in another direction, but in order for me to move in that direction, I need to have a solid plan in place before I make one single move which is so totally not in my nature. I am more of a look before you leap kind of person. I see something I want and I go after it. But I guess with age comes wisdom or some such horseshit, so we are now taking a step back to see if this change is even feasible at this point in our lives.

I will tell you all that this need has been in me for over a decade. In fact, were it not for my divorce, I would have already accomplished this goal and I was well on my way over a decade ago. Since then, I have sucked it up and done what was necessary to support not only myself, but my family. But that ultimate desire has never wavered. It has been put on a shelf and I have taken it down at least twice a year and played with it. But every time I do, I swallow that desire and place it back on the shelf to gather dust for another six months. Now, I know that when a person has something that they have wanted, no yearned for, for over ten years that you will never be truly happy until you do something about it.

At this point in time, I am not going into specifics because I still don't know if we can make the changes in our lives that it would take to move forward. And I am really scared about that. Because I really, really want to make those changes. It would mean not only completely turning our lives upside down, but it would also be a very long trip. One that would see my oldest child into high school and my youngest into grade school. Our whole family would need to make adjustments in order to compensate my goals and it is extremely difficult to ask them to do that. Of course I could keep putting it off, but it would never happen that way and I am even more afraid that it would then fester inside of me and breed resentment. As a parent, it is important to always think of your family and what is best for them.

So, I am all tangled up in knots about what to do. We have discussed these steps before, but this is actually the first time that we have really started creating a plan to take the steps. And I am so scared that if we go forward and make a misstep that I will ruin lives in the process...

So here I am doing what I do best and rambling on about something that I can't really talk about in direct terms yet. And while the flow of words helps, it really doesn't allow me to make any concrete conclusions other than the fact that I am really freaking tired and should probably go to bed right now.

It....Oh....My....Help.....

2008-07-11T01:01:00.000-04:00

..roll down the window!

That is what my husband screamed at me the other day while driving home from dinner.

Sometimes my farts stink. What's a girl to do?

It's weird really, my ass talents.

I can clear out an entire room without a sound
I know what a dutch oven is and I am not afraid to use it in the bedroom to get my way. "Honey, let's paint the dining room this weekend. No? I bet this will change your mind!" Pffffttttt!
I used to crop dust exceptionally douchy customers by walking around the bar to ostensibly pick up empties and the like.
I have won a farting contest where the other competitor was a large Labrador retriever.
I do not need to employ the "mom stare" to keep my kids in line. I just tell them that my belly hurts and I roll up the windows and set the child lock to "on."
I am able to hold in my gas, sometimes for over an hour, until an opportune time presents itself for the use of my noxious fumes.

The power of the stank ass is a verifiable truth. Just remember that it will sometimes backfire on you.

Ha, ha. Backfire. I didn't do that on purpose, but I had to leave it in.

Those of you out there who are thinking that they can harness their inner stank, please don't. This isn't something that the untested can use at their whimsy. You will more than likely end up shitting your pants. My special skills have been handed down from my father's side of the family for at least two centuries. I am almost positive that it is from all of the kraut eating, beer swilling Teutons that run rampant through my genetic code.

BUT, if you feel the urgent need to give your husband a dutch oven one night, make sure that he is asleep first.

Oh, and make sure that you are a good enough actor that you can pretend that you were sleeping through it as well.

I Taught Her the Nastiness

2008-07-07T01:01:00.000-04:00

I think I may have mentioned a few times that I am a soccer mom. So to take a break from my personal drama, I thought I would post a picture of Spawn #1, AKA SuperDiva.

SD is not by any means a large girl. She is 11, but is on the small side. Not as much in height, but in weight. The kid lives for soccer and I have spent the last four years (she has been playing for 6) giving up every holiday weekend for soccer tournaments. You think I'm kidding? New Year's, Spring Break, Memorial Day, Father's Day, Fourth of July and Labor Day and that is not all of the tournaments. Nor does that include practices and regular season games of which there are two outdoor and three indoor sessions. If you are a parent of a soccer player, you will get it. If you are not, you will likely think we are insane. You would be correct.

But I don't do this to live some youthful dream out through my child. I am so not athletic. I never have been. We started out in our city's rec league and realized that she was a pretty good player. She then went on to play not only Travel Soccer, but has been in a Premier League for the last three years. And for the last three years, she has never wavered in her desire to play for the US Women's Soccer Team. So I am trying to give her the tools to live that dream. However, there are things in my house that come before soccer and the most important of those is education. She pulls down great grades and is in ASP classes, so as long as she remains a SCHOLAR athlete, I will be more than happy to support her.

Even if that includes spending my entire summer getting weird sunburn tan lines from sitting in the sun all day cheering her on.

As you can see from the above picture, SD is pretty athletic. Our team families are very close and we teach our children the value of good sportsmanship. The only fly in that ointment is that there are other coaches out there who teach their kids ( YES 11 year old children ), dirty little tricks on how to hurt other players. A lot of the times, SD gets targeted because 1. she is a really good player and 2. she is usually smaller than the other girls on the field. That is their mistake. I may not be athletic, but I am tough. And we only have one rule regarding being physical on the field:

Rule: Do not start anything. Period. BUT, if you are getting abused, you better take care of yourself.

That is about the only rule she listens to these days.

You might think that I am being mean, but that's not the case. We had a girl get her arm broken on the field a few weeks ago. Granted, in that case it wasn't from being rough and tumble, or from a bad referee, but we have had other girls get injured from those very things. Some of these girls know how to trip when the ref's back is turned, or how to get their cleats under their opponents shin guards and I don't want my kid to get hurt.

But at the end of every single game, she shakes the hand of the other team. Even when they have been mean and nasty. Even when the other team's coach and/or parents are yelling at the kids or acting like lunatics.

But she doesn't take any crap from anybody. Not even kids who are a foot taller and 50 pounds heavier than her and that happens often.

So, here's to you SupreDiva. I am very, very proud of you.

Congrats on your Trophy win this weekend. I have a feeling that it's going to be another naked sunburn Monday (-=

(I was just as proud when they lost every game they played their first few seasons!!!)

Where We Get A Fathom Deep

2008-07-04T00:17:00.003-04:00

Because honestly? A fathom is about as deep as I let myself get.

I. Am. So. Overthishsit.

And I feel bad about it. I know that there are so many more people out there in the world who are suffering worse than I am. People with cancer and AIDS and MS. Also, people with no humor. But I can't seem to help myself.

So, ahem, the seizure thing? Not going so well for me right now.

It was so great that my dad came up to visit me and help out for a few days. He took me to my neurologist's appointment and comforted me in his way. I also scored some pretty cool tickets for an Arena Football game where my husband almost killed an elderly couple trying to catch a real live football by jumping over top of them. He says that he was trying to "save" the lady from getting the football planted in her face because she wasn't paying attention, but I have a hard time believing that. Then, not 10 minutes later, he almost knocked over a special needs person while flying backwards over the seats in a thwarted attempt to catch a five cent plastic football.

But back to me. So far I have tried Dilantin (in the hospital) and while the one side effect of cussing people out and getting away with it is pretty cool, the severe allergic reaction was not, so let's cross that drug off of the list. Then my Neuro put me on Topamax. Now, let me say that I have an epileptic sister and she has been on Topamax for about seven years with no problems. Me? Not so much.

I started out the first week with a measly little 25 mg dose. During that week I experienced tingling in my hands and feet, SEVERE irritability and a general fuzziness that affected my ability to not only do my job, but to be a functional human being.

And then came the dosage increase to 50 mg. The next day, I had as close to a full blown meltdown as a person can have without being institutionalized. It happened in the middle of Costco (or my personal Disney as I like to call it). I had my son with me when I started feeling really strange. I went to lick my lips and realized that they were going numb and tingling all over. After that, I am not really sure what happened, but I called a friend who came within 15 minutes. I started crying for no reason as I felt like the world was ending. It was honestly one of the scariest things that has happened to me. I thought I was losing my mind. My friend drove my son home while I drove my own car. In that short 15 minute ride, I had the air conditioner on full blast with the windows rolled down. Tears streaming down my face, I could not control my crying. I alternated between tears rolling down my face and full on sobbing. I even entertained the thought of smashing my own head through the windshield.

Then I called my mom. She told me to call the doctor right away. The office was closed for lunch, so I took a valium and passed out. By the time they called me back, I was so doped up between the Valium and the Topamax, I am not sure what kind of conversation took place. The next night, I didn't take the pills. The night after, I took one. Then the nurse called me to check on me and said that I needed to come into the office.

So today, I went in. I have been off of the Topamax for four days and I am feeling a lot better, but there are some symptoms that are still lingering. Now, the doctor wants me on Lamictal. I asked him if it was possible to try and control these seizures with diet, rest and exercise, but he said that he wouldn't recommend it as it very rarely works for people. Now I have this fucking pill, ANOTHER pill, sitting here staring at me and I don;t know what to do.....

Do I take the pill and go through the round of madness that has been my last two weeks? Do I take it and it is a wonder drug? Do I not take it and wait for the results of the EEG that is scheduled for this coming Tuesday? I don't know and I can't make an intelligent decision about it right now. I am extremely wary of moving forward with another drug when I still haven't rid my body of the effects of the previous drug. And trying three different anticonvulsants in less than three weeks seems like a little much to me.

I am a bit of a wreck right now. The headaches are almost constant these days and I am really dreading the EEG. I have read up on them, so I am informed, but you never know what to expect when you go in for testing like that for the first time. Although I am pretty sure it can't be as bad as my first pelvic exam. I am fearful that by being on medication, I will be unable to do my job, or any other job in my field as I need a clear head and my wits about me to do what I do. What happens if they can't control this and they take my driver's license away? Will we lose our house? How will we live? What will we do? I know I am borrowing trouble, but I can't help but think about the what ifs. It is not in my nature to just sit around and wait for things to happen, I make them happen. But I can't speed up this process. I can't do my own testing and I can't know what concoction of drugs will work for me.

I HATE TAKING PILLS. Of any kind. I don't even like to take Tylenol. And I honestly have to say that if the last few weeks are any indication of what I will be going through having my seizures controlled through medication, I would rather have the seizures.

Ranting? Table for one.

Fuckshitpiss. I honestly am almost aching for a fight right now. With anyone. Yeah, even a Komodo Dragon. And they eat people. I feel backed into a corner by a fucking disease without any recourse. I can't go up to it and kick it in the crotch. I can't make it cry by being sarcastic and snarky. I can't take out it's legs with a sweeper move and then bash it in the head with a crowbar. Right now, all I can do is lay awake at night and try and calm down enough to fall asleep. But my mind won't stop roaming through the list of things that could go wrong. Not knowing is definitely worse than knowing. Even if it is bad news. My greatest hope is that there are NO abnormalities on my EEG. If there are.... well then we will have to reevaluate our lives.

Also, I am not really that emotionally stable these days. I am not what you would call a "crier." I don't shed tears at the drop of the hat, but last night, I cried myself to sleep. I wake up wondering how the day will go. And I go to sleep scared that something will happen overnight. To most people, these fears would seem unreasonable. Because, of course, people deal with medical issues their entire life. But I am not people. This is happening to me.

Fuck it. None of this post makes any sense, so I am going to post a picture:

Me and the little one at the Arena game two weeks ago. He is so freaking cute.

Best Cartoon Ever?

2008-06-25T10:20:00.001-04:00

No. Really. I am a Bitch.

2008-06-23T07:45:00.002-04:00

I am not, nor will I ever be little Miss Sunshine. But lately? There has been a whole lotta mean tossed into the blender of my personality. And the funny thing is that I am usually an upbeat, irritatingly so, person. So, is it the stress of all of the shit that has been happening lately? Is it the new medication? Is it the fact that I don't know what the fuck is going on with my job since my boss hasn't returned an e-mail or a phone call in like five days? A combination of everything?

Probably.

But honestly? I feel bad for the people around me. Especially since I recognize the issue and can do nothing about it right now.

Conversation with my day the other morning:

"Blah, blah, blah and a whole lot of bitchery followed by: 'I need a large cup of coffee and an attitude adjustment'".

He just laughed. It was true, but funny.

Oh well.

Houston, We Have Diagnosis

2008-06-20T00:37:00.002-04:00

I am not crazy.

Well, I am, but not about this seizure shit.

My dad flew in today to go to the neurologist's office with me. To say I was freaking out would be putting it mildly. I have managed to more or less ignore this whole seizure situation for the last seven or eight years. I figured I had it under control. Until the ER doctor told me that 4-5 seizures a year was NOT controlling the situation.

So, reluctantly, I went off to see the head doctor. I had these visions of him telling me I was completely nuts to saying that there wasn't a thing wrong with me and that it was all in my head. (heh heh) Plus I was a little nervous, because this particular neurologist did not have the best of reputations.

Well let me tell you, I really liked the guy. He had me when he said "you had CAT scan? It verified that there was a brain in there?" Ah, a doctor who gets my sense of humor.

He did a thorough work up and asked me about my seizures. In the end, he decided that I have Focal seizures. (or Partial Seizures) Basically, the seizure affects the right side of my brain, but presents on the left side. Numbness, tingling, twitches, etc are mostly confined to the left side. That doesn't mean that I can't or haven't had Full seizures that affect both sides, I have, but that the majority of them happen to zing me on the right. I guess kind of like a guy's dick. you know, they usually hang to one side or the other.

So, now I am on medication. Right now I am taking Topamax. Eventually I will work up from one to four pills a day. He also has me taking Valium as needed (it helps with the tingling and such) and he also put me on Maxalt for migraines.

The thing is, you would think I would feel better about this, but I don't and here are my reasons why:

1. I FUCKING HATE DRUGS - of any kind

2. I loath the idea that I need to be dependent on any kind of medication to live a "normal" life.

3. I really, really don't like it that I will forever have seizure associated with my name. You know, just in case, I need to tell the people around me for my own protection. Do not call an ambulance, do not try to hold down my tongue, etc.

4. I was just anally raped at the drug store. I have wonderful health insurance, but even so, I just spent over a hundred dollars on close to six hundred dollars worth of medication. Granted, the Maxalt will last me for like a year, but the Topamax is like a FORFUCKINGEVER kind of thing. The next time I go into the pharmacy, I am just going to lift up my skirt and grab my ankles. I'm gonna get fucked one way or another.

5. I have to have an EEG. Uh, me and hospitals are not good together. Me and weird electrodes and gels have an even bigger issue with one another.

6. I will need to be under medical care for the rest of my life.

7. A bunch of other shit that I haven't thought of yet.

So here I sit, at midnight, and I still haven't taken that first dose of medicine. It's like I am admitting that I have failed my own body somehow. I know I am not making sense, but that's how I feel.

The thing is, I know it could be worse and I keep telling myself that very thing. But I CANNOT help the way I feel about the situation. Maybe in time, I will see things differently, but right now I do not. And I really don't want to hear any platitudes. I know I sound like a bitch, but I have never argued otherwise.

On a better note, my dad has been wonderful. He was allowed in the examining room and asked questions that I hadn't thought of. I have a sister (not blood related) with epilepsy, so my dad knows a lot about the subject and was a big help. Plus it's nice to just have him here with me. I said that we don't get to spend much time together, so this is great, no matter the circumstances.

Thank you all for your kind comments on my last post. Because of my schedule and the way that my brain has been scrambled lately, I haven't been able to respond to any comments, but I really felt your good wishes and prayers coming through today.

All my best,

ADW

Neurologists = My Nightmare

2008-06-19T10:39:00.002-04:00

Holy Fucking Shit.

So, to keep you all up to date with what is going on - some people know already. I had some kind of fucked up seizure late Sunday night and had to be taken to the ER, lights a flashing.

Side Note to Paramedics - When someone presents with seizure symptoms and their husband tells you this, PLEASE TURN OFF THE FLASHING STROBE LIGHTS ON THE AMBULANCE until you get them inside.

Second Side Note to Paramedics - You guys were great and when I start feeling better, I am sending you a love basket.

Actually, I had two of them at my house and another one in the emergency room.

Note to SHITTY ASS HOSPITAL where I never want to go again - it would be a good idea if your IV tubing matched that of the ambulance, so you didn't have to rip my arm open trying to change out the tubing.

Here are some neat things about my trip to the hospital:

1. After having a third seizure while I was there, they put bumper pads up on my bed. Next stop = fully padded room.

2. I had an allergic reaction to Dilantin. Why oh why would the doctor then prescribe it for me? Fucking idiot.

3. During allergic reaction, the nurse attempted to control me so she could drug my ass up....

the following occurred:

- I sat straight up in the bed and screamed at her "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS ALL ABOUT"

- She then told me that "We don't use that kind of language here"

- I then said "FUCK IT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT"

- I then passed out from all of the drugs

4. Best part ever - my husband said to me "This is going to make a great story for your blog"

Ha, fucking, ha. He has come over to the dark side.

So, I have been drugged out of my mind on and off since Monday. My dad is flying up to Ohio to take me to my neurologist appointment - my doctor does not like this guy, but he was the only one who could see me this week.

I am VERY nervous. I thought I had this shit under control, but apparently... not so much.

So, I am very behind at work. I am worried about losing my new job and I don't know what is happening to me. Scary shit all around.

At least I can keep my sense of humor. If I can tell a nurse to fuck off, there is hope left yet.

So this afternoon, I go see Dr. Doom and then we will see what happens. From my GP's perspective, she thinks that they will order and EEG to check my brain. Like we all don't already know I am fucked up in the head.

Just to show you how messed up I have been, here is the transcript of the texts that I sent to my boss Monday about 4 hours after I got home from the ER:

I was in the er last nigh

Didn't get n

Back top laws

Until late sorry bout that

I'll be online in avojo

What. The. Fuck.

Drugged to the gills.

Anyway, don't tell anyone, but I am a little freaked out. One, this neurologist does not have the best reputation and two I fucking hate doctors. The only exception being my family doctor who is the shit.

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK

It could always be worse.

Father's Day Post

2008-06-15T02:24:00.003-04:00

Well, I guess the title says it all. Or not really.

My dad and I have a tentative relationship. There are no problems between us, I love him and he loves me, but we have definite issues.

My parents divorced when I was very, very small. I don't know the ins and outs of the whole situation and for EVER while I was growing up, I was poisoned with only the venom that flowed from the egg donor's mouth when my father was brought up.

But somehow, I managed to stay open minded. I wanted, no desired and dreamed about, a real relationship with my dad. Instead, I was forced to call a man who did not sire me, nor love me, dad just because I was told to. I never felt that way though. I used to dream about living with my dad. I would forever fantasize about calling him up and begging him to come get me from whatever state I was imprisoned in at the time. Instead, I had to settle for hearing his voice ONLY when the egg donor wanted extra money for something and forced me to call him collect. I was never allowed to just call my dad and say hello, I love you, I miss you, nothing.

Every time I even broached the subject of going to visit, I was told that he didn't want me. I was told that he was too busy with his new family. And at one very low point in my life, I was tortured with the notion that if I ever moved away, my grandmother would die of a broken heart. Who fucking says that to a child?

Anyway, I may not have gotten out, but my sister Tree did. Once I went away to college, she finally broke free of the chains that were binding her to that life. One day, after a very bad scene (it's not my place to relate the story), she called my dad up and asked him to come get her. My dad and mom drove from Georgia into a massive snowstorm to pick my sister up. They weren't even able to get her from where she was living. Instead, she was dumped off at my stepfather's sister's house in another state and had to be ferried off of a mountain because my dad's car couldn't make it up in the storm.

I wasn't that lucky. I still feel like we are strangers in a way because we don't have those ties from a long term relationship. We don't have any shared memories of a time before I was an adult. I didn't get the opportunity to get to know my dad until I was old enough to vote. In fact, I saw my dad for the first time in almost a decade when he came up to Ohio to be at my first wedding.

So it feels weird. To love someone so much, but not really know them. Even now, we live so far apart that we don't see each other that often. I am in Ohio and he is in Georgia and in a way, that separation is more than geographical. If we are lucky, we might see each other twice a year. We have managed to go golfing together and do some things that are meant for just the two of us, but it is still awkward. For him as well as me, I am sure.

My dad has asked me numerous times if I blame him for the way I grew up. I don't. Life is hard and everyone has to do what they can to make it through. My dad was away for six months out of every year serving our country. Then he would come back to find out the he had been taken to court by the egg donor for more child support, or this or that. Back then, there were few rights for military parents and if you were taken to court and you were out in the middle of the Indian Ocean and could not make it back, they didn't postpone it. These days the laws have changed (although it goes by state, so I don't know about other people), and there is more leniency in scheduling, but not so then. I can also see things from his side and I hurt for him because I know that this bothers him more than he lets on.

All of that aside, I love my father. He and I are a lot alike and I get him. I like to think that I inherited his sense of humor along with his big, giant ogre head. I also got his ability to release deadly toxins into the atmosphere by way of bunghole, so that is cool. And I don't ever doubt how much he loves me. We have talked on numerous occasions about the past and while it will never be fully behind us, we don't allow it to color our present or keep us apart. He has taught me so much about life and the living of it. I don't get and will never understand his love of NASCAR and while I golf, I would go comatose watching the whatever Open for four days in a row, but we talk about sports and politics, religion and public issues. We disagree on a lot of things, but we love each other.

So to my dad:

Happy Father's Day. You are my inspiration, and the one person that I know I can call no matter what the situation. I can count on you to call "bullshit" on me while supporting me through my decisions. I know that I probably don't tell you often enough, but I love you so much and I hope that I can be as good of a mother to my children as you are a father to me and my sisters. You are totally in my top five favorite people in the world and if I could, I would fly down to see you for a hug when I have a bad day. You make it all better dad.

Love,

What Am I, New?

2008-06-09T05:53:00.003-04:00

Holy crap. I have sunburn. Can't move, everything hurts, bright red, extremely painful sunburn.

The thing is, I don't usually burn and when I do, it's pretty faint and almost immediately turns to tan. That is probably not the case this time.

The picture doesn't even come close to showing how bad the burns really are. In fact, naked, it still looks like I have my swim suit on.

And yes, I was wearing SPF. Not a high count, but SPF all the same. I spent years and years living in the south and I am well aware of the dangers of the sun's rays.

The funny thing is that my husband has sunburn too. So here we are, two miserably burnt people laying side by side in bed completely unmoving. Letting the air from the fan wash over us and give some measure of comfort to our aching bodies.

Now, I am up on a Monday morning, trying to catch up with work and wondering when it will stop hurting so bad and kind of considering implementing a Naked Monday work plan. My dress is chafing.

Paging Doctor Whackadoo

2008-06-06T08:08:00.002-04:00

I have started seeing a therapist.

I like her.

She is a pretty straightforward person and the only truly irritating thing that she had me do was use an "emotions" chart. I asked her if they were like emoticons... What? Oh and there is no computer in her office. Freaky. Of course, skipping back to the first sentence, I came up with emotions that weren't on her chart. Like pissed off and combative and highly illusionary... apparently it needs updated for adults with large vocabularies.

She is not really sure what to do with me. Most people aren't. Especially since I jump around from subject to subject. Although I did spend an entire hour bitching about my in-laws. To a complete stranger. Without being drunk. It felt really fucking good.

And so I was finally asked to narrow my focus on what I wanted to work on the most in my life right now.... I picked my children. And not my husband. Sorry, but the kids are only little for so long and my biggest fear in life is that they will end up despising me like I do my Incubator. I had to create a behavioral chart with rewards and stuff for them. And you know what? It's working. They earn points for good behavior and lose them for bad and they need a certain amount of points to do activities that they like. My little one is really good with it, the older one will probably need a learning curve.

Next post - attending your daughter's Junior High School Orien-fucking-tation. While deciding on the easiest way to sneak out of a crowded gymnasium.

Peace out bitches.

ADW

The Hardest Day of the Year

2008-06-02T00:27:00.002-04:00

I managed to make it through this weekend without turning into a complete sobbing mess. May 31st is the most difficult day of the year for me to get through. I posted about it last year, but it seems that I feel a deep need to do it all over again.

What is May 31st? This year it was my 5th wedding anniversary. It was also the 2nd anniversary of my grandmother's death. And you know what? It was a little easier this year. That doesn't seem to have come out right... It's never easy. The feeling of loss. It hits you unexpectedly. It comes out of the blue and bitch slaps you right upside the head. The fact that I will never be able to forget that day...

I was standing in the checkout line at Costco. I had stopped in to pick up a new book and I was on my way to our company's golf club to meet my boss and a coworker for lunch. I was waiting for the cashier to ring me up when my cell phone rang and I saw a Maryland area code, but the number wasn't one that I was familiar with. When I answered the phone, I heard the voice of the woman who birthed me. And I knew. Right away I knew something bad had happened. My heart started racing and my mouth dried up. There was a roaring in my ears that didn't completely block out the one-sided conversation. And there it was. The news that my grandmother, the woman who raised me, was dead. Gone from this earth.

I walked away from the register, completely numb. As I stumbled toward the exit, I had the simultaneous feeling that I was going to both throw up and pass out. I made it to a concrete ledge to the right of the entrance/exit where I collapsed into a sobbing mess. I didn't care who walked by me or saw me. My only thought was that my world had ended. I couldn't live without her unconditional love and support. She was the only person in my life who loved me the most. We would fight like two she-cats on occasion and then make up right away. Flashes of an unbearable childhood passed through my brain, tempered only by her love. Memories swirled around in my head of road trips and life lessons. Praise and punishment. Laughter, tears and most importantly love. All the while, tears were pouring down my face, splashing onto the concrete into a little puddle.

When I finally pulled myself together, I ran to my car, ignoring the ringing of my cell phone. I slid into the seat, numb all over, not knowing where to go or what to do. I know that I talked to three of my sisters and that there was a conversation with my husband as well. The next thing I knew, I was in the parking lot of the golf club. I tried to reach my boss, but his phone went unanswered. I put on my sunglasses and walked into the restaurant. Inside, glasses firmly intact, I spotted their table and walked over. I vaguely remember telling my boss what was going on and heading towards home, more phone conversations allowing me the ability somehow to drive myself home.

The rest of the day was spent coordinating plans. Until the time came to tell my daughter that her great-grandmother was gone. The woman that she worshipped, just as I had, she would never get to hug and kiss again. The little one had just turned two and didn't really understand what was going on. My husband was overwhelmed, I think, having just lost his grandmother the month before and he was so very close to my grandmother.

Somehow we made it through. Clinging to one another until we made the drive, straight through the night, from Ohio to Maryland. We went directly to the funeral home where I had to deal with not only the most painful thing to happen to me in my entire life, but I had to work with a woman that I despised and keep her from making a mockery of my grandmother's life by shortchanging her in death. I could go into the countless episodes of insanity that were created by her and her machinations, but I am letting it go. It won't help me mourn and will only take away from the focus of the topic.

Sisters and brother, aunts and uncles and cousins and friends all rallied around us with their support. My grandmother's people are mostly country folk who work hard and live their lives through their own set of moral standards. Good people by anyone's definition, they kissed and hugged and patted myself and my family. They held the baby and fawned over my daughter. We told countless stories and celebrated the life of the one person that I consider to be my hero. We cried and laughed and hugged and kissed all over again. That is what family is supposed to do.

Last year was hard. Really, really hard. This year, was still difficult and the worst part was that I kept those feelings bottled up inside. I didn't want to talk to the kids about it and bring up their pain, especially my daughter's, so I stayed silent. Through an anniversary spent around a bonfire with the kids and our friends. It was mentioned a few times throughout the evening that I was unusually quiet, but I chalked it off to working a lot and being tired. But today, after coming home this evening, it hit me. And all I could do was crawl into my bed and shake. My husband asked me what he did to upset me and I had to restrain myself from taking his head off. The most upsetting fact is that he either forgot, or he doesn't care. Either way, I will deal with that later, but for tonight, I just needed to unload. If I didn't have this blog to write in, I would probably be gullet deep in a bottle of booze right now, so we have one plus to add to this weekend's tally.

So there it is. I shed some tears today. I walked around with a lump in my throat the size of a softball, but I made it through without being too nasty to the people around me. And when the resentment and hurt surfaced, I hid away under the covers. It may not be the best way to deal with pain, but to each their own. Now I think it is past time to go to bed. Sleep may not be forthcoming, but I can at least rest my weary body and close these gritty eyes.

Bye my loves.

Take an extra minute out of your day today to call someone you care about and tell them how much they mean to you. It can make a difference. Trust me.

ADW

Blogging is like Macaroni for the Soul

2008-05-28T21:23:00.003-04:00

I honestly couldn't come up with a better title.

And I like Macaroni.

I could bitch and moan about a lot of things today, but I find it very difficult to work up the energy for even that. Britt's family is really going through a rough time right now and if there are any readers of mine left, please go leave her a few words of encouragement. I have met Britt and she is just a good person. In a crazy, "I will stab you with my fork", karaoke singing way.

And.... I just found out last night that an old customer of mine died over the weekend. From a motorcycle accident. He was a really great guy, someone you just click with right away and he had a family that included grandchildren.

Damn it all to hell.

Guys, I am really hanging on by a thread here. My iChat status is usually set to "please make the voices in my head stop screaming" and I am working about 70-75 hours every week. The rest of my life is suffering, but it is one of those catch 22 things. I get the dream job, but at what cost?

I miss you all. I really do. Even my blog buddies that I e-mail every so often don't get e-mails from me. I haven't talked to my sisters in weeks and I am just now getting over bronchitis. What free time I do have is spent with the kids...

I think I am going to switch from drinking rum and wine every once in a while to just adding whiskey into my morning coffee.

So I guess I am bitching and moaning. Fuck it.

And for old times sake, this is how I feel about the person who fucked up my position before me:

Stupid cocksucking, tittytwisting, Milwaukee's Best drinking, beer gut having, shitlicking, shrimping cum stain. I hope that you are happy. You have pissed off a really great group of people by being a complete douchebag and they all think you are one of Satan's minions. While we have never met, the stories are incredulous. If they are even a fraction true... well, I feel sorry for you.

But I still want to hockey punch you.

Fucker

ADW

Scary Scary

2008-05-12T22:37:00.003-04:00

So I am on a conference call today and my phone starts ringing. I look and see it is my husband, but I don't answer it because.... well I'm working. Then another call. Then, just as I am getting ready to end the call, a text comes through.

When the call is finally closed out, I check my text and I see the following:

"I was in a pretty bad accident. I'm OK"

Holy Shit!!

It turns out that an elderly gentleman hit a patch of water on a major highway here in Cleveland and hydroplaned out. He went right and then corrected, where he then flipped around to the left. Right in front of my husband. So my husband ends up hitting the passenger side door behind which is sitting a woman of at least 90 years. After that, the car behind the hubs smashes into him. They ended up shutting down a portion of the highway. No one was seriously hurt, and the elderly guy and his mom drove away after being cited for losing control of his car and causing the accident.

Both my husband's car and the car of the other guy had to be towed away. I met the hubs at the collision place where I saw the considerable damage done to our car. Now we have to wait and see if it will be totaled. Fuck. The car was almost paid off and we were looking forward to having the extra moolah for another year or so.

Anyway, having sold P&C (property and casualty) insurance at one point in my life, I am well aware of the importance of getting checked out by a doctor after an accident. Plus the hubs was a little out of it, so I took him to the ER. It turns out he has a mild concussion. Poor guy.

So, there is my eventful fucking Monday. Arghhh.

The bright side is that everyone was able to walk away from what could have been a very deadly accident. I think that my husband's past of racing cars has served him well today since he was able to think quickly and maneuver his car the best he could in the situation he was in.

Thank goodness.

ADW

Chicago Bitches

2008-05-03T21:57:00.005-04:00

There have been a few (OK one) complaints that I haven't been posting. It's not because I am dead, or that I have been absconded away by swarthy bandits only to be sold into the sex slave trade. I really am busy. I think I worked like 80 hours this week. Ugh.

So, there you have it. AND I am going to be in Chicago this Monday and Tuesday for work. So, Monday night only... ADW in Chicago. Will the Windy

City survive my the crazy tornado that is me? We shall see.

I am bone tired and still blowing bubbles:

Please ignore the zit under the bubble. I get stress breakouts.

Oh and this is from a while ago, but my girl Mim posted a Q & A that I decided to answer. I liked my answers so much that I am reposting them here. But this chica is supersweet and funny and kind and I lurve her!

T or F. Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock b/c they ran out of beer.

F - they landed because there was an outbreak of homosexuality.

T or F. Samuel Adams did not make his own beer.

T - his brother Bryan Adams made the beer. And then went on to a life of singing pantywaist crybaby songs.

Name two early Presidents who brewed their own beer.

John Quincy Adams - he originated the egg in a beer for breakfast drink to prove his virility. too bad he used quail eggs. Dumbass.

Millard Fillmore - With a name like that, you know he was an early kegger.

During the German immigration in the mid 19th century, what type of beer was introduced?

Nuremberg Nazi Lager

During the Civil War a barrel of beer could be produced for $_____ and sold for $_____

Slave Labor and sold for a blow job

Name the 3 beer brands that helped Milwaukee become the beer capitol of the US?

Frozen Tundra North Ale
Who Would Live Here Light
and
Pabst

T or F. In order to increase their profits beer manufacturers also owned the saloons they sold their beer to.

F - they only pimped out the hookers who in turn promoted the beer to their customers.

___________ and ____________ helped to revolutionize beer distribution in the early 1870’s.

Ben and Jerry

In 1893 ________ became the first American brewery to produce 1 million barrels of beer a year.

My grandmother’s family

_____________________ was the woman behind the movement towards prohibition using vandalism as her gimmick.

That dirty slut Susan B Anthony

T or F. Before Prohibition, workers would get beer breaks just as we get cigarette breaks today.

T - how else do you think shit got made. Gah!

Which Colorado brewery was the first to feel the pinch of Prohibition?

The one that went out of business first.

What year did Prohibition end?

For my family, Prohibition was just an excuse to hide their stills in more creative locations.

How many years did Prohibition last?

.1

Which beer company was the first to advertise on TV?

Iron City Ale

Which beer company was the first to create a “light” beer?

The one that couldn’t see in the dark.

My favorite beer happens to be from the oldest brewery in the US. What is my favorite beer?

Yeung-Leung Lager

Just as an FYI, Yeung-Leung is really part of my ancestry and it is certainly the oldest brewery located in the U.S. I told you that my family history includes bootleggers. So suck it Susan B., you dirty little whore.

Off to Texas Y'all

2008-04-22T00:38:00.003-04:00

I will be in Austin tomorrow. Yee-haw.

No really. I love the south. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY RELATIVES lives below the Mason-Dixon line. I spent an awful lot of my formative years in states like Louisiana, Tennessee, Florida, North Carolina, Virginia, et cetera.

I also love country music and I have been dancing to it for a very long time. I can two-step and swing dance, cha-cha and chadish and a whole lot more. So I am super excited that my new ISO rep is taking me to some famous country and western place one of the nights I am in Austin. Yay!
Oh and the other things I am excited about:

1. My MacBook Pro
2. My new iPhone
3. I did not pay for 1 or 2
Here is a picture that I took of myself using Photo Booth. Yes fuckers I am a Mac neophyte, but I have to change, so you will in turn be subjected to my projects. Just be happy I didn't make you listen to something from Garage Band. Shudder. I don't have the balls to tackle that program yet.
I am watching you. Creepy, isn't it?

Miss me bitches.

Where Am I?

2008-04-17T23:54:00.002-04:00

Really.

I am not sure, but I think I am in a tunnel trying to figure out whether or not I should walk towards or away from the light.

Exhaustion has set in and there is a lot of road to walk before I rest.

Fuck.

In the last few weeks I have been in Georgia, Florida, Columbus and California and with a few days at home, I set off again next week for Austin, Texas.

Whew.

New job has major potential for rocking the universe and about a million people would kill to work for my new company. But Dayum!

Next month is a Chicago trip and then I am home for a good long while. Thank baby Jesus!!

And here is to the ubercunt flight attendant on Northwest with whom I had the following conversation on my fourth flight in four days:

Me: "Can I please have a lid?" (for my coffee)

Ubercunt: "Whaaaatttttt???"

Me: "Can I please have a lid?"

Ubercunt: "Whaaaatttttt???"

Me: "Can I please have a lid?" a little louder this time

Ubercunt: "This isn't Starbucks!! Hmphhhh."

Listen up you old skanky has been. Just because you can't get laid without a quart of Astroglide does not mean that you have to take it out on me. When someone hands me a filled to the brim, sloshing cup of coffee on an airplane flight that is "just a little turbulence folks", a request to keep said coffee into the cup where it belongs until I have a chance to ingest it is not asking too much. In fact I would say that it would be common fucking courtesy except for the fact that you wouldn't understand what that is if it reared back and tittyslapped you. What I should have done was "accidentally" spilled the dregs of battery acid that you pass off as coffee down the front of your polyester blend navy airwaitress uniform. Maybe it would have thawed out your frozen up cuntsicle.

Hey folks! I just created a new topical cream: IcyTwat

Trademarked for the exclusive use of ADW.

Fuck it.

I am too tired to be funny.

Peace out bitches.

Mea Culpa and Florida Here I Come!!!

2008-03-31T10:00:00.002-04:00

First things first. It feels like I have been apologizing a lot lately, but with very good reason. I consider myself a great friend. The one that people call in the middle of the night for a ride when they are too drunk to drive home. The one that knows all of the secrets because I can be trusted to keep my mouth shut when anyone tells me something about their darkness. The one who will drop pretty much anything to rush to your aid when you call, write, e-mail, IM, send a pigeon or a smoke signal saying "help me." And lately, I have not been a good friend to any of you. I show up on your blogs sporadically, if at all. I don't comment. I don't e-mail. Days, no weeks, will go by with neither hide nor hair of me. And for most of you, it's no big deal. But for me it is. For the last year, you have been so supportive of me. You have left comments and sent e-mails. You have thought about me, prayed for me, asked for more inventive cursing lessons. Whatever. And I have neglected you. I am so sorry. I think that part of the blogger code (which has been written about extensively on other sites and needs not be repeated here) is that you comment back. And I have failed at that. I have no excuses, just apologies. And that is not enough, but they are heartfelt and sincere and I hope you can all forgive me.

This blog is not and never was intended to be a popularity contest, or something to use to garner a pantheon of readers. I created it as an outlet for myself. Somewhere that I could vent my frustrations and swear to my little heart's content. But it turned into so much more than that. It opened my eyes to the caring nature of others all over the world. I learned about creativity, compassion, humility, love and so very much more. Blogging has given me more than I could ever give back to the blogging community.

I have "met" so many kind and wonderful people and in less than a week, I will get to meet two of those people in person. Squeeee!!!!!!! I am so excited to say that I will be meeting Adam and Britt next weekend. On Saturday to be precise. I am nervous, but don't tell anyone. I am in awe of their awesomeness and I can only hope that I have more to add to the conversation than "errrr, blah, blah, blah, gaaaaaaddddd, pretty, hairy, love, blah, gurgle, snot, weep, yay!"

More than any of you will ever know, the two of them have helped me through some difficult times over the last few months and I hope that they know how very much their support has meant to me. Adam with his wit and inventive put downs and Britt with her kind heart and open mind; her understanding and her caring soul. They have nurtured me and listened to me rant and rave. They have checked in on me to make sure that I was doing OK when I was down.

And now...... well now, I get to go let loose for a little while. I am flying down to spend some time with MY family (as opposed to my husband's pack of hyenas). I also get to spend time with two of my favorite non-family members. And when I come back, it will be full throttle into a new job. A very exciting, kind fierce, new job. For a VERY large technology manufacturer. It's pretty cool. So, I will be traveling a lot for the next month and I will try to keep posting at least once a week. I will also try to come see all of you in that time. But if I don't, please know that I am thinking of you and I will check in as soon as I can.

Much Love,

ADW

Easter Blah Blah

2008-03-23T11:42:00.003-04:00

I am sad. Again. I feel like a broken record. Some days I just feel broken. But it's Easter. And my family IS NOT here. And I miss them. A lot!!

I know that I keep saying this, but I have a shitstorm of stuff in my life right now and there is no end in sight. And it seems like every time I rise professionally (which I have and will tell you about soon!!!!!), my personal life takes another hit. Maybe it's because I am less inclined to put up with bullshit, the busier I get. Maybe it's because I am older. Maybe I am a stone hearted, razor-jawed bitch, but there it is.

So here I can say everything I want to say. And right now, the most important thing for me to say is:

I am unhappy.

Deep down, black hole, no end in sight unhappy. I should be happy. I know I should. But I am contrary that way. I never do as I should. I don't follow the rules. And I am unhappy.

I have made it well known in my life how very unhappy I am. I have asked for things to ease that ache inside and I get nothing. Well, I got to go see Wicked. Woo Hoooooo! That helped ever so much. Sarcasm? Why yes, thank you for asking.

So I am setting out to make myself happy. And if that means some major changes in my life.... well so be it. Because I can't rely on anyone else to love me the most. I am the only one who can do that. It hurts quite a bit to announce that to the world. But it also feels right saying it. I am sick of giving to everyone around me without at least getting any appreciation for the sacrifices that I make. I am tired of being the one who holds it all together because I am the only one who cares. Talk is cheap and actions speak louder than words. Two often used phrases that never lose their meaning for me. I try to let the people in my life know how much they mean to me and I swear to the Almighty that maybe someone could appreciate me for once.

Or take care of ME. That would be great. Someone who actually devoted some time to seeing to my needs without ULTIMATELY trying to ensure that their needs are met at the same time. I am the definition of sacrifice. I have worked so very hard for a very long time now (over half of my life) and I have always done so for the benefit of other people. I know it sounds selfish, but the last time I checked, I was a person too. So what about me?

Oh and to all of those people out there who say that you are no longer a person when you become a mother.... You can go suck a dick! I hope you choke on it. I AM a person with needs and wants and feeling and dreams. Ha! Dreams!! I haven't believed in dreams for longer than I care to admit. Mine died a long time ago along with my childhood.

Fuck! Bitter? Table for One?

Rambling, incoherent thoughts are apparently the M.O. for the day, but I could give a fuck. My blog. My words.

On a lighter note, I am going on a trip where I get to meet some of my favoritests bloggers EVAH!! Care to take a guess?

Fuck you Ohio snow..... it'll be quite sunny very soon. Gotta love Continental direct flights.....

Random Information Day

2008-03-14T11:48:00.001-04:00

Ooohhhh!!!

Mallorca Rocks!

Gay men love me... well so do butch lesbians.

Snow should never be an excuse for not drinking.

I love comfy couches.

Shoes are my passion.

Sports talk radio. Need I say more.

I have a mouth like a trucker.

Truckers get offended at the above line.

When I was seventeen, I was thrown from a real live wild horse. I got back on again. I got thrown again.

I have an odd sense of humor that some people don't get.

I LOVE old people.

I can't stand crappy drivers and sometimes imagine myself running them off of the road.

People who are afraid of the snow should move.

If you don't vote, don't bitch about our government. Yes it sucks and they are all evil demons in league with Satan himself, but it's all we have and it's better than the others.

Freedom of Speech is just that. If you don't like what you are seeing or hearing, then look somewhere else.

I am surprisingly conservative. Really surprisingly so. It's strange to me.

I have had strange ghostly experiences, yet I don't believe in ghosts.

I am damaged.

I told a man to suck my dick long before it was made into a famous phrase by Demi Moore.

I heart cheesy movies.

I can not watch war movies.

I hate chick flicks. Except Steel Magnolias which always makes me cry.

Random Information Day is Now Over.

ADW

Oh no, not Johnny Castle!

2008-03-05T21:54:00.002-05:00

I was distraught to hear today that my beloved Patrick Swayze is suffering from Pancreatic cancer.

While reports say that he is in good health and the cancer is limited, Pancreatic Cancer is almost always a death sentence.

Forever, I will associate the Swayze name with Dirty Dancing, a film that my sister and I played so many times one summer that the tape eventually broke. If I come across the movie playing at any time of the day or night, I will drop everything and watch it. At the time, it was a racy, sexy film that taught us that dirty dancing was oh so good and that nobody puts Baby in a corner. But for me, the best part of the film was the music.

I am, at heart, a great lover of "oldies" music. Boy and Girl groups, rock 'n roll and every genre in between, the number one spot on my car stereo is set to Majic 105.7, a renowned Cleveland oldies station that has been around as long as I can remember. But the movie is what first introduced me to songs like "Big Girls Don't Cry", "Stay", "Be My Baby" and a host of other songs. The undeniably pop sound that originated with much of this music was what has inspired other artists over and over again and what hooked me.

Of course the cheesetastic Roadhouse is also another great. Since I am a gay man trapped in a woman's body, I fucking love watching Roadhouse. The gratuitous naked chest scenes are the best. Coming in a close second is the fact that a real-life trained dancer could ever single-handedly take down a town of bad guys, get the girl and save the bar. But it's the movies and I don't ask for much, so there you are.

Ghost wasn't my favorite since I was creeped out by the Demi Moore kissing her dead lover through Whoopie. Seriously creeped out. And the scene with the clay made my stomach turn as well. I cannot stand the thought of mud drying on my body. I wash my feet after playing sand volleyball for crying out loud. Blech.

Anyway. Hang in there Johnny Castle. I hear that in your next movie, you play a gay cheerleading instructor and I think you will do well in the role. All my best.

Your devoted fan,
ADW

I Am Having A Good Crisis

2008-03-03T22:56:00.003-05:00

I think.

I am very confused right now and I am not certain what to do about it. There has been an unexpected occurance in my life that could turn out to be a great opportunity for me, but I was unprepared for it to come along, so now I am scrambling to play "catch up."

I still can't give out the deets, but some of you already know anyway. The upside for me is huge, but it would be a big leap for me to take and not one that I would enter into lightly.

So I keep wavering back and forth and trying to figure out what decision I will make. It doesn't help that I would end up letting some people down if I decided to make this change. People that I like and respect quite a bit.

The one thing in my life that I am happy and satisfied with is the one thing that is fucking with my head right now.

So....

I come to you, my friends, to give me some advice. Sure you don't have all of the details, but if you were in my shoes and were presented with a potential life-changing opportunity, what would you do? How would you react? Especially if you were happy with the way things were going.

If you want more information, you can e-mail me.

Love,
ADW

Being Alone

2008-03-03T08:52:00.002-05:00

I had an interesting conversation with someone a while back. We were talking about random things and I brought up the fact that I had never been on my own. Truly. This is the basic gist of my life's living arrangements:

1. Lived with some relative or another until 17
2. Lived in college with a roommate
3. Lived with my ex-husband's Aunt and Uncle so I could stay in Ohio
4. Lived in an apartment with my grandmother
5. Lived with my ex-husband
6. Lived in a house with my grandmother
7. Moved in with my husband

Obviously, there is a little more explanation than that, but for conversational purposes, this is enough information for now.

The customer I was speaking with was a man, and he said (to paraphrase) "You are a beautiful woman, there is no reason for you to be by yourself."

Huh.

I responded by telling him that I didn't have a problem not being by myself and sometimes I actually craved alone time. I like the peace and quiet. I like not having to answer 350 questions a day. I enjoy curling up with a book and reading it the whole way through or taking a bubble bath and staying in until my skin gets all wrinkly.

Sometimes I feel like I am still trying to figure out what I like/want/need because I never had a chance to spend any amount of extended time with only myself for company. And since I am my favorite person, I find it a damn shame.

Now don't get me wrong... I wasn't offended that he said that. I do not play games with my looks. I know that I am attractive to some people, but I am by far not beautiful. I also don't act coy or embarrassed when someone compliments me on my looks. I honestly grew up an ugly duckling, so there are times that I have to stop myself from protesting when I receive compliments because I don't want to sound insincere. I have actually accepted the fact that there are people who will look at me and see my shell and not the substance inside. Once they speak with me for more than a minute, they see the real me. That is the one that makes me the most proud.

Anyway, back to the story. I wasn't offended with the content of the comment, because I know that there are a lot of people out there, both men and women who hate to be alone. Those people look at someone who (outwardly) seems to have everything that they desire and wonder why they are unhappy. What it did was make me think. And wonder. About what ifs and might have beens. Because I was that person for the longest time. I had to be in a relationship to be happy. I didn't feel complete unless I felt desired. If I was single, it wasn't very long until I jumped headfirst into another relationship.

Now I realize that one of the reasons I was that person was that I didn't want to be alone and be forced to confront the demons and pain that resided inside of me. If I kept going and kept myself and my happiness tied to someone else's needs, then there wasn't enough time in the day to worry about what my needs really were. The funny thing was that all of my friends and family saw how I was and told me about it, but I blew them off. They said that I was a super cool person until I got into a relationship and then I changed. Instead of having fun and being who I really was, I changed and devoted myself to making whoever I was with love me. And that is really the heart of the matter. Love. I had to be loved. It is a deep seated need and one that I fulfilled over and over again. It was easy to get a man to fall in love/lust/whatever with me. They look at me and see my vulnerabilities and want to protect me. I guess I look fragile. I'm not. Once, we were involved and they realized that there was steel inside, then the problems started. Since the men who fell for me often fell for the "princess needing a prince" aura, the relationship would often fall apart when they realized that I didn't really need them. Even if I did not realize it myself.

Thus began my string of romances. It wasn't a long string, but it started with my first boyfriend and has never ended. And hearts were broken on both sides. Mine, when the guy realized that I wasn't the person that he thought I was. His when I realized that I made a mistake and confused real love with my relationshipitis disease.

The crazy thing is that I still have that desire to be protected. But I want to be loved for the person that I am. My wit and intelligence, my vulnerabilities and needs, my strengths and my weaknesses. They all make up the person that I am inside. I think.

After looking back and analyzing MY life, I have some advice to the general population. I still don't know who I am or what I really want, but I am learning and I know more now than I did ten years ago. I think that if I would have had that time to live alone, I could have figured more of it out a lot sooner. I honestly think that if you have the chance, take some time to be by yourself. It will make you think about what makes you world turn more smoothly.

Of course, I could be full of shit and this is just what I think anyway, so take it for what its worth.

What do you think? Did you get time to be alone? Do you think there is a difference? Is there a side to this that I am not seeing?

Let me know.

ADW

Help, Can't Breath

2008-02-28T21:55:00.002-05:00

I hate kickboxing. I was going to post about the awesomeness that is "Wicked", but I can't. Why? Because I have a kickboxing instructor who is an undeniable sadist. I feel like my whole body is made out of jelly. He kicked my ass tonight and singled me out for it. He made me a team leader, so he watched me like a hawk to make sure that I didn't slack off.

We did running drills, kicking drills, punching drills and I am pretty sure I got drilled at one point. Right in the pooper. AND THEN!!! After class was over, I was standing by the open door with steam LITERALLY rolling off of my body and he took one look at me, laughed and then told me I would thank him for it later. I responded by telling him that I hate him.

Note to kickboxing instructors - Do not look at a woman that you have abused for an hour and laugh at her while her soggy hair is plastered to her head, her legs are bowed from 192 fucking lunges and her arms are laying limply at her sides because she can't lift them higher than her kneecaps. If you work someone out until they look like a wounded, oozing Ebola Monster and then laugh at them, it won't matter how many degrees you have on your black belt. There will be one bitch out there with just enough adrenaline left in her to kick your ass from here to next week. Please read one bitch as this bitch and know that I tend to get a little emotional when my heart rate goes over 300 beats per minute. There should never be that much adrenaline in a woman unless she has to lift a car off of one of her kids.

One woman told me that I shouldn't stand out in the cold air because I could get pneumonia. After growling and doing my own version of an exhaustoglare at her, I told her that at least it would put me out of my misery. Then I left the dojang wearing nothing but my dance pants and a tank top. In below zero weather. And I drove home like that.

I really had steam coming off of my body. How does that shit happen?

As I lay my head down to sleep tonight, I will say the following prayer and I would appreciate the rest of you saying it with me:

"Heavenly father, please forgive me for all of my sins; many though they are. Please watch over our men and women who are in service to our country both here and abroad. And pretty please, give Master S...... a bad case of the shits. Pretty, pretty please with cherries on top. I know you have way more important things to do, like laugh at a Congress that places more importance on whether baseball players are taking steroids than oh... say everything else in the world. But I would really like one week of working out where I can still walk the following day. Thank you. Amen."

OK, maybe I won't have the energy for the first part, but I am definitely slipping the last little bit in there.

Maybe I will stop shaking by tomorrow morning.

My kneecaps hurt.

So do the tips of my ears.

At one point, my toes went completely numb, but the feeling is back. Also, I can finally hear in my right ear again. I went deaf for a while.

Maybe I shouldn't drink a large coffee right before working out. That can't be good.

I hate working out. It's the worst part of aging.

Good night now.

P.S. Blogger is being an asshole and I can't spellcheck and I am not proofing this. You get it as is and if you don't like it, tough cockhairs.

"You're gonna be pop-u-u-u-u-la-a-ar."

I am off to see Wicked tonight. Ha mothafuckers. Ha.

I am so freaking excited. Not as excited as if I were going to go see..... oh, say an NHL game, but pumped nonetheless.

I have heard nothing but good things about this Playsical, from both guys and gals and the traveling cast that will be here in Cleveland has gotten rave reviews.

Oh and as for transportation.... I will see if I can hitch a ride with a snowplow.

I don't know how many of you (especially you Floridian assmunchers) watch the weather channel, but it has been snowing like crazy up here in the Cleveland area. They cancelled school for the second day in a row. People are rioting in the bread aisles. There are clan fights breaking out in the street over car accidents. But it sure looks pretty from the inside of my 73 degree heated house.

So getting from my residence into downtown Cleveland should be fraught with danger and adrenaline highs. I for one am voting for a Zamboni rental, just to say I rode a Zamboni through a snowstorm. Zamboni, Zamboni, Zamboni. It just sounds good as it rolls off your tongue, doesn't it? It sounds like something an Italian DOES with his tongue. Mmmm.....

So if you flip on the news and hear that some crazy chick drove a Zamboni right through the Terminal Tower or the Hard Rock Cafe and you don't hear from me in the next few days.... well, it means that I am in jail.

I'll let you know how the play goes. If I make it.

Kisses.

Goodbye Ugly Rosebush

2008-02-21T20:55:00.000-05:00

When we first moved into our house, there was this rosebush at the start of my sidewalk that leads from our driveway to the front of our house. The previous owners must have bought it at 90% off because it was the fugliest thing I had ever seen. The flowers on it were white with splashes of pink, but they almost looked like a freaky Jackson Pollock painting, however not as interesting. Every time I walked past that bush, my stomach turned. Now I am not much of a flower person, what with my black thumb that destroys most living things, but everyone agreed that it was an out of control eyesore and that I needed to do something about it.

A few months after we got settled in, I decided that I could no longer stand to look at the organic shitstain ruining the aesthetic of my home, so I set about removing it. I took a pair of giant gardening shears and started snipping away. Snip, snip, snip. It took me almost an hour, but I completely decimated the bush. De-fucking-stroyed it people. There was nothing left but a little nub in the ground that I meant to dig up but I never did.

Less than a month later, the bush started sprouting again. Huh? When I say I hacked that fucker to bits, that is exactly what I mean. I am good at destroying plants. I can do it with an ease that if bottled up could be used to destroy small planets and asteroids. Maybe even hemorrhoids. But up it sprang, mocking me with its very existence.

Then it started to get cold out, freezing cold. I figured that there was no way that the plant could survive a frigid Ohio winter since it was only about ten inches tall. I forgot all about the bush.

Until Spring came. And the snow melted. And the bush was there, yet again mocking me with its ugliness. Of course I am very lazy and I quite enjoy a battle of wits with a non-intelligent species (see any reference having to do with men and sex), so I ignored it. See if you win this war you insignificant plant! Hah! Your mockery will not do me in. You will not bend me to your will. I laugh at your petty attempts to incite my temper. (I was also too lazy to lug out the garden shears and hack away again.)

Summer came and went with its two months of warm weather and here I was again faced with the coming Fall. My days often ran into one another until one Saturday night I decided to go out and let loose. So the hubs and I get a sitter and we head out to a place where I used to tend bar. There we met up with a friend of mine who was celebrating his birthday and I helped him and a lot of other people celebrate. Many shots later, I was rip roaring drunk. So was my friend. So the hubs, being the only sane and sober one, drove my friend home. While still in the parking lot, I thanked my husband for allowing me to have such a good time by getting it on with him.... and possible the gear shift, but the memories are hazy at best.

About an hour later, we arrive home. As I am stumbling towards the house, I feel a rumbly in my tumbly. Uh oh. Maybe the 17 shots of Red Headed Slut mixed with a bottle of Grape Goose was not such the grand idea. I made it to the start of the sidewalk and was hideously sick. I remember hearing my husband saying something along the lines of "Oh my God ADW, you are going to hurt yourself and I don't feel like a trip to the hospital tonight." I didn't understand. Yes I was puking, but unless I have massive abs of lead, I am not going to hurt myself by doing so. Anyway, I finished cleaning out the digestive tract and he managed to get me into the house and up to bed.

The next morning I had a hangover from Hell. Little demons were doing an Irish Jig on the inside of my skull while keeping time with the pointy ends of their pitchforks. I took a shower a la the Crying Game (or Ace Ventura) complete with 20 minutes of dry heaving. I did not leave the house for the rest of the weekend.

By Monday, things were looking up and I managed to haul myself into work. Once I got home that evening and started up the walk, I realized what my husband was trying to tell me that night. Apparently, I puked in the rose bush. No, not ON the rose bush, but IN the rose bush. Whole head inserted into thorny branches until all that could be seen of me was my neck. How someone who is the world's biggest klutz managed to not only complete the act without serious damage, but ended up with nary a scratch on her is one of my greatest mysteries. So here I am, staring at this bush that is still covered in the residue of Jagermeister and premium vodka and I just start to laugh. I mean really. Priceless. And just another notch in the ADW stupid actions belt.

Two weeks later the rose bush was dead.

It never grew back.

So, the moral of this story is:

If you ever have a wayward plant that you want to get rid of, don't go buying any of them there fancy chemicals. No siree. Just get a tootful, let it swish around for a few hours and then expel it all over the plant. I have only tried it once, but I imagine that a large man could probably take down a small oak tree with the same process.

ADW

Holy Shit!!

2008-02-19T08:07:00.002-05:00

I have mad crazy news that is both flattering and intimidating. I don't even know what all of this means. I am so confused.

I thought my life was moving in one direction and BAM!, someone throws a wrench into the works. I can't really go into details right now, I don't know when I could, but suffice it to say that this was totally unexpected. If things keep going this way, I just might end up winning the lottery tonight.

Or, this could totally tank and take me down to the bottom of the ocean with it. That is the thing about an extreme high, it always has an equally extreme low on the down side.

I called my mom to talk things over and she was super supportive. No matter what is going on, I can call her and she will give me positive feedback.

Since I can't really tell you guys what is going on, I will leave you with this:

My husband ran my Yorkie over with his car last week. Someone was looking out for her because she didn't get a scratch on her. The car ran right over the top of her. Freaky.

The Ghost

2008-02-17T20:38:00.004-05:00

Congratulations to Kelly "The Ghost" Pavlik. A northeastern Ohio and Youngstown native, he beat Jermain Taylor in a unanimous decision last night, a few months after he won Taylor's WBO-WBC belts with a TKO in the 7th round of their first meeting.

I love promoting Ohio and I really enjoy watching an exciting boxing match. Since they were fighting up a weight class, Pavlik wasn't risking his newly earned belts, but watching these two pound it out on the mat was still thrilling. We left a wedding reception a little early so that we could find a place showing the fight. Apparently the bar at the Holiday Inn doesn't show pay-per-view boxing matches. Go figure.

It was difficult to leave the reception for the entertainment value itself. Some crazy blond chick who thought she was God's gift to mankind took it upon herself to teach us all just how to not behave at a respectable function. Now I can totally understand getting snookered and making an ass out of yourself for one song, but the ENTIRE time, she was dancing or attempting to dance. Someone had to come pull her off a few times so that they could do the bridal dance and the father-daughter and mother-son dances. Where were her friends? Neither the bride, not the groom claimed to know her, so she had to have been the date of someone.... First date? And if so, why didn't her guy make her control herself? But I am glad he didn't. We had a great time watching her shimmy and shake all of the dance floor. But the best part was that she totally didn't fit the bill of someone who gets shitfaced and stripper dances her way through a reception. She was about 5'10", 100 pounds, super-bony and she was wearing this horrible granny print dress that most librarians would have a hard time wearing. But, crappy clothes or not, she persevered and managed to make us all laugh, so I guess it was a job well done.

We ended up watching the fight at a place where I used to bartend. We lucked out and got to sit next to the ONLY Jermain Taylor fan in the place. Who was also a Michigan fan. How do I know? Well he was rooting for Taylor quite loudly throughout the fight and then after Pavlik won and the DJ played Hang On Sloopy (the official rock song of the State of Ohio and an old standby for any Buckeye fan), he started yelling out Go Blue. Uh, dude. I don't know if you realize this, but boxing tends to bring extra testosterone out in men. So if I were you, I would keep my mouth shut before 300 rednecks in mullets slam their fists right into your face making you as toothless as they are. Yes you are within your rights to root for whomever you like, but you don't go into another man's house and fuck his wife and you don't go into a local bar and cheer for the opposition. You just don't. I have a vagina and even I know these incorruptible man rules.

So anyway, congrats to Kelly Pavlik. Here's to a successful bid to unite all for belts in the next two years. I think you can do it.

ADW

V Day

2008-02-13T21:01:00.003-05:00

Valentine's Day is a huge load of horseshit.

Oh, elaborate?

OK. Anything for you, my dear reader(s?).

I hate the thought of a single day out of the year (or two if you are from Ohio and celebrate Sweetest Day) where two people who care about each other are pressured by card companies and other retailers to buy crap that they probably can't afford for a grossly overpriced sum of money. Why can't we do that anyway? Of course, if the big box companies and jewelry stores figured that out, they would come up with a "just because" day. Seriously.

When did people stop being spontaneous with the ones they love? How hard is it to buy that special someone a card one day to tell them how much they mean to you? I just don't comprehend a day where you and your significant other feel like you HAVE to buy something, but you're broke from Christmas, so you put a spending limit on the item that it supposed to show the other person how much you love them.

My perfect present:

1. It has to be a Surprise - and by surprise I mean a real one. I am the hardest person in the world to surprise, but when it is done correctly, I love it.

2. A road trip to Pittsburgh, Columbus or Detroit. .............I can hear the gasps from here. Why would I want to go to any of those places?

3. For a hockey game of course. I love watching live hockey. It is probably the most difficult, athletic, fast paced professional sport around. Watching it on TV? Pfft. No go. But haul my lard ass to an arena filled with beer guzzling, foul mouthed assholes and I feel right at home. The speed, the agility, the hot men, the missing teeth, the ten dollar nachos..... I'm getting a little misty. My EYES are getting a little misty.

4. Follow the hockey game with a late dinner, some cocktails and a hotel room that we can destroy by having hot, sweaty monkey sex.

5. Wake up the next morning and eat breakfast at some greasy spoon.

That is my perfect special day.

I just realized that I have started growing testicles.

Oh and someone named my penis Juwan last week. I will have to save that story for another time.

Now I must fill up 67,000 bags of Valentines Day candy so that my little one can take them to school for his friends. Gah. Why me?

Fuckpissshitdamncockvaginalwart!

I need a new vulgar catchphrase. I have used up my other ones and they are starting to get stale.

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease!

ADW

P.S. If you see any errors, I apologize. It seems that my spell check is not working with my new Vista platform. Crap.

Hanky Panky

2008-02-10T22:59:00.000-05:00

When?

When is the hanky panky?

Before or after the cleaning of the house, the homework, the pet care, the sports practices and games, breakfast, lunch, dinner, grocery shopping, bathing....

Maybe the video game playing. Maybe if we cut out the video game playing, the hanky panky would return.

Oohh, oohhhhh. I know. Pick me! Pick me!!!

How about not tiling your parents' bathroom floor all weekend? Maybe if you instead, hmmmmm, I don't know, did some shit at our house, the hanky panky would return. But no, mommy and daddy call and we spend all fucking weekend at their house tiling their floor so that they can sell their house at a better price. (And by we, I mean you, since I no longer grace them with my evil presence.)

Yes, we can do all sorts of manual labor for them, but when I need to be taken to the emergency tomb on my doctor's orders and you call your mother to drive all of 20 minutes to watch our son and she asks you if you "tried the neighbors," well that is a load of horseshit.

Ugh!

Honestly. It is a huge joke with men that once you marry, you might as well put your pecker away since there is no longer a need for it, but the joke's on you. Women get just as frustrated with the lack of copulation. Sure we need the correct humidity, timing, words and so forth, but we needed them before. You didn't notice at the time because you were too busy trying to get us to drop our panties as often as possible.

What is it about the increase in expenditures that go along with cohabitating that are directly proportional to the decrease in bumping uglies? Someone needs to do an economic study on that one. I swear to you that it would grant that person an immediate doctorate. Really.

This is such a common occurence with women that it has now reached epidemic proportions. We need some kind of ribbon to bring awareness to the cause. Like a big fat penis ribbon.

Holy shit! I just realized that my mom now reads my blog. Oh well. She knows me.

Anyway, back to me. I find it constantly amusing that men seem to think that they are the only ones who are presented with married sex issues. In truth, it is way worse for women. We are not only expected to continue sleeping with you, but we are expected to do so under less than desirable circumstances. We no longer look/act/feel the same as when you married us? Uh, look in the mirror brother. That boat travels both ways on the river of love. We get to hold down careers and have children (which hurts you non-sympathetic assholes) and make you dinner and juggle 72 other balls in the air all while you expect us to lick the two that are attached to your body.

Sick.
Of.
It.

MAYBE if you actually took us out to dinner or a movie or even pretended some interest in our lives, we would be more inclined to let you back into the crevice of pleasure.

I am sure that I will get a shitload of grief from all you guys out there, but I could give a fuck. Sometimes, when life gets mighty frustrating, the free-association vent is what a girl really needs. As I was thinking and writing, this subject was the first one that really caught my attention. I am sure that I haven't explained this nearly as eloquently as I thought it in my head, but that's how it works with me. I write and I don't really think of the words as I do. They just flow out of me like venom.

So, the next time you are trying to get some ass, ask yourself if you couldn't have done something to entice your woman. Try telling her that she is beautiful at random moments in the day. Kiss her hand. Open a car door. Ask her what is going on in her life and actually LISTEN to what she says. Turn the TV off and play a game of backgammon. Make dinner for fuck's sake. Do something. But please, please, do not expect to cuddle up to us after an eighteen hour day spent dealing with everything thing that life throws at us and poke us in the back with your man tool and then wiggle it around. Unless we are extremely hard up, we would rather floss our teeth with barbed wire than bounce on your penis.

The End

ADW

Viral Influenza

2008-02-06T20:43:00.000-05:00

= So much fucking fun...

I have been down for the count for well over a week. We're talking 103 degree fevers, an ER visit, antibiotics and various other illness related things.

Oh and in typical ADW style, I told an emergency room doctor to fuck off.

He was bored and I was not in the mood to play doctor and pincushion. So I left. The end.

See ya when I'm back to 100%.

ADW

For Lack of a Better Title

2008-01-21T22:47:00.000-05:00

I have missed you guys. Probably more than you can imagine. Thanks so much to those of you who have been checking in with me. I am not ignoring anyone.... I've just been busy.

Sometimes I feel like I fill my life with all-day activities so that I don't have to take any time to really THINK about my life. In truth, I have been blessed. Yes I have had some incredibly soul trying times throughout my life. I have been in abusive situations. I have abused myself. But in the end, I come out feeling like it has all been worth it. But underlying everything is the reality that the things that affect me, the ones that eat away at me will always be there. Do I keep ignoring them? Do I "confront the demons"? I really don't know the answer to either one of those questions. I just put one foot in front of the other and move forward. Day after day. Some are good, some are not. Life isn't easy and I don't expect it to be, but every once in a while I would like to have that illusion.

Not to sound uncaring or self-centered because I was sincerely affected by the recent death that I posted about a couple of weeks ago, but at that point in time, I think that I was so distraught because one of the first things that I thought was that I could have been that girl. The one who thought that life was too impossible to go on. When I was younger I thought about ending my life almost daily. Some days it was all I could think about. When I finally got out of the situation I was in growing up, I didn't know how to handle myself. So I went right out and hitched myself to another kind of abuse. It was almost as if I didn't want to have a happy home life. Destruction and chaos was all that I knew and the only times I felt comfortable in my own skin was when I was back in those kinds of situations. That cycle of ups and downs and arguing and breaking things and anger were like home to me. Looking back on those years, I can't believe that the person in those hazy memories is me.

I am so glad that I got out.

In the ensuing years I have struggled with pulling myself out of the morass that was slowly sucking me under. I often worked over eighty hours a week at three different jobs while attending college. After over a decade of struggling, I am finally at a point in my life where I don't feel like I have to work two or more jobs. I have a career. One that I am surprisingly successful at. I have a mortgage and two cars and we take vacations. Even though I still work more than many, it is because I deem it to be so. Not because I won't be able to pay the electric bill if I don't.

This post is following my feelings right now. Rambling and inefficient. I know what I want to say but not how to properly compose those thoughts in an orderly manner, so forgive me this indulgence.

To get to the point, I am still one step ahead of those old demons from so long ago. And now I finally feel like I am inching further and further ahead of them. I am still too scared to turn around and tell them to eat my dust, but one day soon, that is what I hope to accomplish.

I am so glad that I didn't stand still and let them swallow me whole.

On a lighter note, I recently found out that my mom started reading my blog. Stressed me out a bit when my dad mentioned it. I sent her an e-mail kind of dancing around the fact that I knew she wouldn't be thrilled with the way I butcher the English language and she sent this note back to me:

"I love your blog, you are a very talented writer. I think it is hilarious."

How fucking cool is that?

ADW

?????

2008-01-06T17:18:00.000-05:00

I remember your big blue eyes.
The first time I met you, I wondered if there really was a color that blue outside of a crayon box.
You grew up right down the street.
You grew up in my house.

My grandmother was your grandmother, if not by blood, then by love and affection.
Such a sweet and beautiful girl with the sunniest smile;
I had never seen you unhappy.
Who knows what happens in someone else's mind?

The last time I saw you was in August and you were working at a chance booth at the Corn Festival.
Your eyes sparkling, your long blond hair gleaming in the afternoon sun, you flashed those killer dimples at me and told me of your excitement about school.
You were starting in the law enforcement program at the area vocational school.

You watched my children for me.
You played with them.
It seemed like a circle, beginning with you as the baby and then, there you were, taking care of my babies.

I thought about you and your mom often and fondly.
You lived a mile away, but time and circumstance kept us from seeing one another very often.
That and the shared memories of the woman who helped mold both of our lives.
I think that after her death, it was easier to stay away than to talk about the old times.

Your aunt called me on Thursday morning.
Your mother's sister.
She said that you were gone.
Half asleep, I didn't fully comprehend her meaning.
Not until she told me that you took your own life.

I cried into the phone.
"What?"
Still not believing.

You took a rope and hung yourself from a tree.
Parked your car and walked into the woods.
Why?

A life so short and full of promise.
Ended needlessly.
Now your family is left to pick up the pieces.
Your mother and brother and sisters.
Your nephew and nieces.
Your other friends and family who will always remember the beautiful girl with the big blue eyes and dimples.

Goodbye sweetheart.
I have no answers, only questions for you.
My greatest wish is that our grandmother was on the other side waiting for you with open arms and a smile.

I just came home from the funeral of a sixteen year old girl who took her own life. I knew her as a child and she was one of the sweetest little things. My grandmother practically raised her when she was little and she even went on vacation with her a few times.

As a young woman, I am not sure that I had ever seen a more beautiful girl. She was remarkable.

She took her own life this past week. I don't know why. I don't know if anyone does.

Often in our little blogging world, we talk about depression and the ways we have to deal with it. We bitch and moan and cry and complain. Today I had to look at the body of a young woman whose life was cut so short by her own hand. I saw, with my own eyes, the bruising around her neck where the rope bit into her skin.

Now I sit here at my computer doing the only thing I know to deal with the sadness. The tears roll down my cheeks unchecked. Time moves backwards to the last time I saw this girl and in my mind, I keep asking myself why she would do this. In my heart, I know that there is not one good reason for ending your own life. In my head, I am sixteen again with the weight of the world on my shoulders. I realize that in life, we are ultimately the deciders of our own fate. Those decisions are rarely taken away from us. But I know this one thing. I know that in death, we lose the power to make anymore choices.

There are sympathies and platitudes for this kind of thing. Her mother is not doing well. Everyone can see it. I can only hope that her death does not lead to another one.

My heart is aching. It actually physically hurts. I have to return to work tomorrow after a long vacation and I just don't know how it will be.

I think I am going to take a break from blogging. It might be a week. It may be a month. I may not come back. Maybe with a little time and perspective, I can be that person that I was before Thursday. We'll see.

Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!

2008-01-03T01:49:00.000-05:00

I've gone and done it! I FINALLY found a Wii. I was half-heartedly attempting to procure one before Christmas for our "family" present, but with work and illnesses and holiday pageants and parties it just wasn't meant to be. After Christmas, I became more dedicated and made a plan of action and here it is:

Call every store in the area once a day to inquire if they got any Wii's in that morning or the evening before and the following is the list of the stores that I called:
Walmart - 4 of them
Target - 3 of them
Costco - 1 of them
Best Buy - 2 of them
After a lot of phone calls, I hit pay dirt with the nearest Walmart. The guy told me that they had just gotten a shipment in and they had one left but he couldn't hold it for me.
I threw on a hoodie and some shoes (no shower, brushed teeth and hair in a ponytail) and rushed though the snow to the store.
I raced down the aisles and arrived to find the VERYLASTFREAKINGWiiINTHESTORE
I growled Wii!!!! at the poor fellow and he rang me up.
I spent the next 6 hours trying to find an extra controller
I got that but not the 2nd nunchuk thingie

Now it is 2:00 in the morning and my husband is still playing the thing. I think I touched it for all of 10 minutes before I got bored and dizzy with some Mario World game where a giant planet spins around in 3-D circles. Blech! As soon as I find the new Zelda game though, the family better back the fuck off. I am addicted to Zelda and I am not ashamed to say it, so there.

Random shit:

I have to go back to work on Monday after 2 weeks vacation - glorious
I stopped by my sister-in-law's house today (husband's brother's wife who I love!) and we bitched about the in-laws. We have already decided that I am hosting Easter so we don't have to go to my MIL's house
Christmas was AWESOME with my family UNTIL the in-laws came over that evening
My SIL from out of state and her husband are ice cold assholes. They brought a DOG to my house and then proceeded to hook up some Rock Star game for their Xbox (which they brought as well) and played it from the time they arrived until they left. Neither one of them said ONE word to me. I actually spoke to them both and got monosyllabic responses from the two of them. Idiots. These two should donate their brains to science to see if it is possible to make a full brain from two half-wits.
I waited a week and told my husband what I thought of their behavior. He noticed it as well and agreed with my perception of their fucktarded social skills and lack of respect. I also told him that they are not welcome back. Period.
I am now 30 and the only difference is that I am no longer in my 20's. Here's a toast to this decade being better than the last.
I was supposed to have people over on New Year's Eve, but with all of the illnesses going around not many people made it. I did drink three bottles of champagne with a girlfriend and was not buzzed one bit.
I think being on my period keeps me from getting intoxicated.
I want a hysterectomy. I will donate my womb to someone. It works really well. I just don't want it anymore.
I am not a cat person, but I have to say that our cat Butter is the coolest pet ever. My cleaning gal tried to steal him from us. He thinks he is a dog. Plus he follows me around the house. I like him better than either one of our dipshit, smelly dogs. HE does not make a mess or track mud through my house like those two.
I have no resolutions for the new year. I don't believe in making something I know I will break anyway. I am who I am and only I can change me.
The above is a mantra, not a resolution.
Cramps suck butthair dingleberries. There is not enough over the counter shit to take care of them. I get prescription drugs. Then I forget where they are and suffer anyway. I may be a masochist.
2:00 AM is not the best time for incoherent rambling.
I know I haven't been blogging or visiting enough lately, but I am on VACATION!!!

I will stop by soon and visit y'all. Plus I put an e-mail link on my about me page, so you can now send me messages if you feel the need.

Oh and I hope all spammers get anally raped by a jackhammer in the New Year.

The End

From Fabulous to Fucked Up in Two Days

2007-12-30T21:30:00.000-05:00

My parents left on Friday morning. By noon on Sunday, my life has been spun around. It's nothing serious, but it IS irritating that you can write someone out of your life completely and then turn around and have them pop up, out of the blue, and throw a bagful of wrenches at you.

My Incubator (AKA the hyena who gave birth to me) sent a message to me through one of my sisters. God this is such a convoluted mess, but please bear with me.

1. Incubator and my dad marry and have two children: ADW and Tree
2. Incubator pulls a preying mantis and they split up.
3. Incubator gets custody (AKA child support) of ADW and Tree.
4. Incubator remarries
5. Incubator and StepTard have three children: Jay, L and III

I also have two sisters from my dad and mom, but that is another story.

The only sibling that I speak with from step 5 is my sister L. We are fairly close and I usually see her 3 or 4 times a year.

L called me up today with a fantastic tale, but to understand the new saga, you have to get a little backstory. About 6 months ago, Tree and I went to visit L. Apparently the incubator had approached L with some paperwork that she wanted us all to sign off on. This paperwork was for a deed to some property that was placed in our names.... sort of a place where you have memberships and the elected of the owners govern the rest of the owners kind of thing. How my name, as a minor, ever got placed on that piece of paper is beyond me. I suspect that there was some kind of tax break or clause (Incubator is crazy, but wicked smart and a huge schemer) and that is why all five of us were placed on the paper as property owners. Anyway, The Bator asked L to please have Tree and I sign off on the deed so that she could then sign it over to Jay and her new husband.

Answer? Anybody? Bueller?

Yeah. Fuck off cuntface. Tree and I both laughed. Poor L was stuck in the middle, since these are the only parents that she has and she still tries to maintain a relationship with them even though they are complete cockwads to her.

So the signing off on the deed was a no go.

Fast forward to today.

L calls me with yet another request for Tree and I to sign off on the deed. Of course the Bator couldn't call us herself. I have not uttered one word to her since my grandmother's funeral and I do not have anymore words for her that aren't of the curse variety. She knows this. In fact, if I could have, I would have had her sent to prison on manslaughter charges of neglect. I even contacted the local Sheriff's department and State Police to see if there was anything that I could do. To even have moved forward on the issues would have been next to impossible, so I just focused on grieving and my family. I should have made the bitch rot in prison.

Anyway, this time the story is that she wants my brother III off of the deed and in order to do that, Tree and I have to sign some paperwork in the next six days and have it notarized. M'kay, follow along:

1. I do not sign random paperwork..
2. Especially not from crooked asshatchets like the bitch that birthed me.
3. The previous paperwork was, I GUARANTEE, written by her in some gobbledygook legalese that she probably made up. I laughed when I read it sitting in L's kitchen the first time.
4. No way in hell is that cracked out Ogre getting access to my signature. Ever.
5. How come this time the deed needs to be signed off on for a different reason? In another 6 months, what's the reasoning going to be? Someone is dying of typhoid fever and they need our signatures to save them?
6. 487 other reasons not to trust this person

L told them all of this. My brother called her up and told her she was a "stupid bitch." Yeah, abusing the ONLY member of your family that Tree and I have anything to do with in order to get us to do what you want is not really the greatest idea you moron.

Anyway, I told L my answer. Period. No go.

An hour later my phone rings. Guess who? That's right ladies and gentlemen..... dummmmmm, dum, dummmmmm....... The Incubator.

My husband answered the phone and brought it upstairs all excited by the drama. He proceeded to tell me that "Now you can tell her what you think of her." I responded by saying, with the mouthpiece and receiver wide open, that I had already said everything that I needed to say and had nothing further to discuss. Then I pressed the end button on my cordless phone.

Fifteen minutes later, my phone rings again. I let it ring. I checked the message about an hour later and the gist was that if we didn't want to sign off on the deed that we could start paying the dues and she would assume that we would want to start taking responsibility, etc, etc, etc.

Can anyone say bluff? I NEVER signed a document as an adult giving anyone permission to place my name on anything but my mortgage. If she wants to have a pissing contest, we can go right ahead because I drink Captain and Diet and I can outpiss a fucking camel.

In fact, I NEVER signed any documents for this deed now that I think about it. Interesting.

I will keep you appraised of the drama, but I have one thing to say:

Bring it on Bitch!!!

Where to Begin?

2007-12-26T20:59:00.000-05:00

I really don't know where to start in describing the wonderful Christmas/birthday that I had this year. Abstract Jenn sent me some wonderful artwork (Thank you so much I love it and have to find THE MOST PERFECTEST SPOT for it) and even thought I didn't know gorillas had access to the Internet, one sent me a box of my favorite chocolates along with the following message:

"Happy birthday bitchcakes. You're old now. Time to let yourself go!"

One more truffle, and my ass is going to burst the seam in my stretchy pants.

Here are some bullet points from the past few days:

My brother-in-law told us all about how he shit his pants on the way home from a Japanese steakhouse. The smell of crap made my sister, who was driving and is pregnant, puke her guts up all over the dash of the car. Afterwards, he figured since he already crapped himself that "fuck it" he was gonna piss too. When they got home, they stripped down in their back yard and hosed themselves off. My husband laughed so hard he started crying.
Someone accused my mom of being a little "tipsy" last night. She said the we would know when she was drunk because her clothes would start coming off. I didn't have the heart to point out that she took her shirt off in exchange for one of my tank tops because she got a little warm...
We played Apples to Apples on Christmas Eve. If you have never played the game, it is a cockful of fun. We came to the conclusion that Schindler's List trumps any other card played.
Somehow, this morphed into our naming of the Turkey ceremony where my dad and I decided to name the Turkey Oscar Schindler. My mom and sister were horrified. I pointed out that we were just honoring a man that saved thousands of Jews during the Holocaust..... Then my mom pointed out that we were ROASTING the turkey in an oven. OK. Not my greatest moment of triumph, but the name stuck.
We then decided to name the Ham. Actually I decided that. I named him Saffron Longshanks.
In two days, I made the following items: 20 lb turkey, 10 lb ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potatoes, asparagus, butternut squash casserole, green bean casserole, more fucking cookies, salad, rolls, blah, blah, blah.
I received a knife set from my husband for Christmas. I have wanted a really good set of knives for a long time. I sliced a finger open before they were completely out of the packaging. Dumbass me.
My short attention span contributed to my picking up the turkey lid that I sat on top of the stove while checking the turkey, with my bare fingers, burning my thumb and three of my fingers.
My mom and I snuck out into our garage about an hour before dinner prep and polished off two bottles of champagne.
I got a sot's pint of Captain Morgans in my stocking. My husband is such a funny man.
It was a wonderful Christmas and even the in-laws coming over later that evening did not ruin it. Our friends, who live next door, came over with their daughter and ate dinner with us. It was fun and peaceful at the same time.
I won $2 on a scratch off ticket.
My mom and I spent all day today shopping out little hearts out.

I have been offline for most of this week and probably won't have much time to spend online until next week.

I hope that you all had a wonderful Christmas and that you have an even better New Years. Stay safe and enjoy the people you love.

ADW

Pissed Off

2007-12-18T20:58:00.000-05:00

My three year old told his sister that she was "pissing him off" the other day. My husband and I had to walk away so he wouldn't see us laugh. The kid looks like an angel, but can come up with some doozies.

I came home last night to the family straightening up the house. When I walked in, the little one was hiding behind his dad. My husband nudged him forward and told him to tell me what he did. He hemmed and hawed, but wouldn't say it outright. Finally, the hubs told me to look in the bathroom. Apparently, Peanut Butter was supposed to be "cleaning" the bathroom. Instead he decided to put band aids all over this Indian Elephant that I have sitting on top of the shitter. He knocked the statue over, so when I walked in, I saw the elephant missing the top of his head, but he was covered in band aids. It was so absurd that I started laughing. I just couldn't help myself.

I am so up and down these days. I get a little despondent every time Christmas rolls around. I miss my grandmother all of the time, but especially during the holidays. She was the only one who made them special for me growing up, so I recognize my feelings for what they are: normal.

I also feel so blessed to have so many wonderful readers and friends that I have met while blogging this past year. I can honestly say that when I started writing it was more for me to have an outlet than anything else. Now, after nine short months, I am amazed at the love that I have seen in the blogging world. Through the comedy and tragedy, the laughter, tears and terrors, one thing stands true. There ARE people out there who truly care. I have received Christmas cards from quite a few of you and you have no idea what that means to me. In this information and technology age where IRL stands for "in real life", I don't know that that is true when describing us. Whether it is someone posting about abuse, the loss of a loved one, or just driving down the road singing to old pop songs, we all recognize a little bit of ourselves in others.

We may be white, black, Asian, hairy, skinny, chubby, Republican, Democrat, Green, Independent, Atheists, Christians, Muslims, Agnostics, single, married, with kids, without kids, cat lovers, dog lovers, ice cream lovers, gorillas or monkeys, but we have all connected. I have never had a bad day and not been able to read some hilarious post, or get an e-mail or IM from a buddy that didn't make that day a little more tolerable. That is the best gift of all. An open heart and a willingness to listen to my tyrannic bullshit blathering. My long-winded diatribes filled with every combination of cuss word known to man where people not only understand and are sympathetic, but they applaud my moxie. Yeah, I said moxie... you wanna make something of it?

So to all of you out there, thank you so very much. To the bloggers I have gotten to know well, I really do adore you. To those I am just getting to connect with, I am excited to learn more about you. And to the lurkers, leave a comment. I may be a stone cold bitch, but I have ALWAYS been nice to my first time commenters. It's the sophomore comments that can get a little hairy. To those of you who read and think that you can't blog, go ahead and give it a try. There's nothing to lose and a whole world of friendships and perspectives to gain.

I guess I am in a reminiscent mood and not at all like my title up there. I truly believe in the Christmas spirit. I think that there is so much that we can do for others out there and all it takes is a kind word. So here is what I want you all to do. Go off to a blog site that you haven't been to before, preferably one that is newer. Leave a comment for them. Now, now children, you have to be nice. Tell them that they are doing a good job and encourage them to blog more. It will make someones day and is just a little something nice that we can do.

Now I am off to bake more cookies and sing Silent Freakin' Night at the top of my lungs. My kids and the pets will most likely hit the ground and army crawl away quicker that you can say Tango Charlie, but ask me if I care.