Questions. Comments. Stories. Hopes. Dreams.

what the fuck.

2011-09-01T20:16:00.002-05:00

Okay, maybe it is just that time that everyone gets to that they wonder what are they doing with their lives. Unfortunately, I've been here before. And I am at a loss on how to cope now.

I'm in law school. And I don't know why. There are things that I can do with my degree that might work out but I feel like something is missing-- part of me knows one thing that is missing but I also feel like my general zest for life and go-getter-ness is waning. what the fuck is happening to me. why do I feel so nauseous about being in law school. why do I feel so ineffective? so incapable of getting out there and making a difference? I like to do. I dig doing. doing makes sense to me. hearing rhetoric, listening to how things should be without being able to make them that way makes me crazy.

now i'm almost broke too. no extra cash at all. what the hell am I doing? do I want to be an attorney? i'm not some cocky son-um-a-bitch. i'm not pretentious. i don't think I have all the answers. I barely think I have any answers. I'm definitely not the top of the class. cream of the crop. the master who's got all their shit together. I need to talk to someone. but who? I need to have someone believe in me. but who? I need to believe in myself. but how?

maybe i missed it. maybe this is all wrong. I'm definitely not cut out for doing IT anymore but i have no clue what I am cute out to do. I love people. I love meeting people. I love listening to people tell their stories. I love making a difference in their lives. I love telling their stories.

And I guess we can disregard my "peacing out" commentary. This blog is still up... though a lot has been removed. I'm still here. still confused. still roaming blinding. still unsure of my next move. fuck.

out.

2010-08-18T03:20:00.002-05:00

Fantastically, this blog is coming down this week.

I've moved on to bigger and better things. While I may start blogging again, I'm not going to put that new locale here.

I love my life. Happy. Doing me for me. Taking care of myself and my loved ones. And being fantastic.

Signing off, my dear friends and blog-ees. Good bye and thanks for all the fish.

disclosure.

2009-08-21T12:54:00.001-05:00

I think there's some things about people that should be disclosed up front. People should have to tell you things like "I'm really fucked up right now and I'm working through some things" or " I'm messed up and not dealing with it." They should disclose things like "I'm a controlling person and I want someone to work through that with me" or "I'm obsessively controlling and that's not going to change." At least then, you get a fair chance to say "yep, I get it and those are things I can and am willing to deal with" or "Um, thanks but I don't think I'm in the place where I want to process things like that with you." There's plenty of examples of things that people could disclose to start with. At least then you can quickly decipher whether your partner is willing to deal with your things. Maybe they are things that your partner has experienced before and does not want to re-live. Or maybe you find out something about your partner that you know you are not equipped to deal with or something that would compromise yourself and jeopardize your own happiness or the happiness of the relationship. There's also the positive twist. People should disclose things like being a passionate lover and a devoted partner. Those are important things to know too. I don't think all things need to be disclosed. Obviously, part of getting to know someone is discovering new things about them. It just seems that some things should be known so that decisions can be made that benefit both parties. Either way, I realize such disclosure is not an option but it would be nice.

It just amazes me that some people can seem to be one person when you first get to know them and then a completely different person unveils themselves. I realize that people are more complex than what they tend to display to everyone on a day to day basis. It's those people that seem to be one type of person and turn out to be quite the opposite. I get it though. I used to be a happy person on the outside. No matter what, everything was great to everyone I knew. On the inside, I was falling apart. There were so many things that I was covering up with the happy facade. While I understand that it was something I was doing, I decided to change that. I wanted to be me. I wanted to be true to myself. I wanted to feel real emotions and not sugar coat everything anymore. I had learned the behavior from my family. Even though things were in turmoil at home, we were the perfect family to the outside world. I finally decided for myself that I needed to change that pattern of behavior. So I took some time and fleshed through it all. I knew that I couldn't be a productive participant in a relationship as I was going through my self reflection and changing some of my own behaviors. Some people think that they can stay in a relationship while they do some serious soul-searching. And I guess some can. Others are just in denial.

I've thought of myself as a pretty perceptive person when it comes to reading people. It tends to be disappointing to me when my perceptions are so far from the mark.

not ready.

2009-07-02T16:22:00.003-05:00

I don't know what's worse...anticipating loss or just losing it. Part of me thinks that the anticipation almost makes it worse. The pending eventuality of it is a little nerve racking. You try to prepare yourself for the inevitable. But then it comes and it still sickens you, saddens you and takes all kinds of energy out of you that you didn't even know you had. My stomach feels sickened. I think I need to eat but I have no desire to do so. I kinda feel like I'm going to vomit. Once again, it's that physical manifestation of emotion.

I don't want to have to wait again. I tell myself that it's not so bad. But it's definitely far from easy. I don't want to go to sleep alone tonight. I don't want to have the bed to myself. I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night and reach across the bed to an empty spot. I don't want to eat alone. I don't want to sit on my couch alone.

I miss his presence. I miss his comfort. I miss his smile. I miss his touch. I just want him back right now. I need him back. Here with me from now on.

atonement.

2009-01-26T22:00:00.003-05:00

I just finished reading the book "Atonement" by Ian McEwan. The book was a bit of a difficult read for me. I'm typically one of those people who picks up a good book and can't put it down until I'm done reading it. But this book, I picked up having already seen the movie. I thought the book would be great since I was impressed by the movie.

Without the final section "London 1999", (that I thought wasn't even part of the story) this book would be okay but nothing to seek out. Missing the last section would definitely make the book just another book. The author almost tries to tell the story as a biography/ novel. I'm not a big fan of that technique. I had forgotten how the movie ended so it was a nice surprise to read it again.

The concept of atonement is all about amending after an offense. The main character never gets there. The title seems superfluous. It could have just as easily been titled "Betrayal" or "Young Child who is nosy and sees things she shouldn't and makes up stories because she doesn't understand." The former is probably a better choice. :)

I do think that the concept of atonement is lost on most people except the religious who get beaten over the head with "being atoned by Christ." People should think about atonement more. Too many people are too self-righteous or proud to make things right again. Or it's half-hearted. Apologies like "I'm sorry for everything." It's the crappiest apology next to "I'm sorry if your feelings were hurt." Because you can't be sorry for everything. Blanket apologies do not mend fences. Neither does the "if I hurt your feelings" clause. There's no purpose for the clause except to preserve oneself. And to be a selfish ass.

But yeah, the movie might be better than the book for this one. The movie has Kiera Knightley and James McAvoy. The book spends more time gently, slowly pushing the plot forward. There's too much time spend in the battlefield and too little time spend on wrapping up the loose ends. Oh well. That's my thoughts. Ciao for now.

cold nights.

2009-01-11T18:07:00.000-05:00

It's chilly here. Pretty cold actually. It's on these nights that it'd be nice to cuddle up on the couch with someone and a good glass of wine. Maybe watch a movie or just be. Sometimes it's nice to just be. No words. No pressure. Just be.

a quote.

2009-01-09T01:02:00.001-05:00

"We're meant to lose the people we love; how else are we to know how important they are to us?"

~from "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button"

cold weather sucks.

2008-12-08T12:07:00.000-05:00

It's not even that cold here but it's cold enough that my asthma kicks in hardcore. Here I am trying to exercise this morning and my asthma had a clinch on my lungs. I can't breathe normally and even my trainer is kinda freaking out. After an emotionally charged week, the last thing I needed was for my body to fail me. I tried to push through but it's hard to do so when your body isn't getting enough oxygen. I kept feeling like I was going to puke or pass out. My body was quitting on me weather I liked it or not. I was so winded I could barely talk. That's not normal for my workouts. But I saw a picture of myself in college the other day and was motivated. I used to have a bomb ass body. I'm determined to get that back. It's easier to do that when I'm depressed. Forgetting to eat and forcing myself to workout. I'll be back to the smokin' me in no time.

propitious.

2008-10-21T12:00:00.002-05:00

supposedly, I don't write positive things. The thing is that there's less to process when emotions and thoughts are less intense. They are more intense when there's extremes. I am at an extreme right now. It's not an extreme great thing but it's an extreme.

Here's something happy to write about:

Nora smiles. It's not something on command but she smiles.

And another happy thing: the optimist sees the doughnut, the pessimist sees the hole. I see the donut hole--after all the center is yummy.

Random

ness.

Warwick Avenue

2008-10-21T00:30:00.001-05:00

by Duffy.

When I get to Warwick Avenue
Meet me by the entrance of the tube
We can talk things over little time
But promise me you wont stand by the light

When I get to Warwick Avenue
Please draw the past and be true
Don’t say we’re okay
Just because I’m here
You hurt me bad but I wont shed a tear

I’m leaving you for the last time baby
You think you’re loving,
But you don’t love me
And I’ve been confused
Outta my mind lately
You think you’re loving,
But I want to be free, baby
You’ve hurt me.

When I get to Warwick Avenue
We’ll spend an hour but no more than two
Our only chance to speak once more
I showed you answers, now here’s the door

When I get to Warwick Avenue
I’ll tell baby there we’re through

Cause I’m leaving you for the last time baby
You think you’re loving,
But you don’t love me
And I’ve been confused
An outta my mind lately
You think you’re loving,
But you don’t love me
I want to be free, baby
You’ve hurt me.

All the days spent together
I wish for better,
And I didn’t want the train to come
Now it’s departed, I’m broken hearted
Seems like we never started
All those days spent together
When I wished for better
And I didn’t want the train to come.
No, no.

You think you’re loving
But you don’t love me
I want to be free, baby
You’ve hurt me
You don’t love me
I want to be free
Baby you’ve hurt me

too long.

2008-09-19T15:36:00.001-05:00

It's been far too long since I've written. Writing is therapeutic for me. I believe that it is probably therapeutic for a lot of people but many never try it. It's been an interested past few months. Some of the worst moments have happened. Think I've inwardly reflected on them so no need to delve into them here. I had someone once tell me that they were going to quit reading my blog cause they'd rather talk to me. The thing is that writing is freeing and each sentence that I write and re-read allows me to delve further into my own thoughts. That same process does not happen while I am speaking. It's a completely different process.

I have realized something else too. I need more friends. My best friend from high school and I seem to of had some falling out. She's in denial about being completely focused on her and her relationship with her new husband and has forgotten about her friends. My closest friend and I live far apart and do better when we are closer together. We talk on the phone inconsistently. But few of my friends live in the same city. I have set myself up so that it's easiest to try and develop a relationship and best friend in the same person. But then I have no one else. It's a bit of a dangerous scenario. Especially for someone like me who needs to reflect.

I saw a movie recently-- The Bucket List. It's a good flick. Definitely one that will make you tear up. They do a great job of drawing the characters out so that you identify with them. You almost feel their struggle and their experiences. At one point, Carter is talking to Edward about Egyptian heaven. Carter explains that everyone gets asked two questions. One: Have you found joy in your life? Two: Has your life brought joy to others? And the answers to those questions determined whether you would be allowed to enter. I do know that those questions can make you reflect a bit. It's pretty easy to probably answer yes to both of those questions. Of course most people have family and friends who would vouch for them. But then what about strangers. What about people that you may never see again but brighten their world just a bit. It's really all in the little things. It's the little things that make the world a compassionate place.

....

2008-07-31T19:53:00.002-05:00

"Those who do not know how to weep with their whole heart don't know how to laugh either."
~ Golda Meir

"Love is not written on paper, for paper can be erased. Nor is it etched on stone, for stone can be broken. But it is inscribed in a heart and there it shall remain forever."

"Love is a decision-- not an emotion."

"True love does not come by finding the perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly." - Jason Jordan

"Fear less, hope more, eat less, chew more, whine less, breathe more, talk less, say more, love more, and all good things will be yours."

"Love and magic have a great deal in common. They enrich the soul, delight the heart. And they both take practice." - Nora Roberts

When I do something great, no one ever seems to remember, but when I do something wrong, no one can ever seem to forget.

"Sadness flies away on the wings of time."

nothing.

2008-07-31T19:39:00.002-05:00

I feel like I have nothing left in me. It's almost a hollow feeling. It feels not great but real. It's just one of those times that I feel reflective. Feeling like I've given so much and tried so hard for naught. I don't understand any of it right now. I feel like I should have kept a journal or a chart. A chart that would track the ups and downs. It'd be easier to assess just how extreme they were. Right now, it seems like they were pretty extreme. I wish I had a journal to track the everchanging mood swings. To chart the days that I think I've done okay and done the "right things." And then compare them to the days that I'm told that what I do is definitely not enough or not timed right.

Still, somehow I'm not bitter. Feeling a bit foolish. But not bitter. The anger comes every once and a while. Really, it's just sad. Deeply sad. And frustrating. Like I'm running as fast as I can in one of those hamster balls and wondering why I'm still in the same spot.

But I'm getting a vacation. Some time to clear my head. Be with people who love me for me.

And the saying that it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all-- that statement is ridiculous. Cause really, they are the same thing. You love and you have the pain and sadness, the ups and downs. You never love and you have the pain and sadness because you are alone. It's not better to have loved and lost. It's better to have loved and kept. But you can't keep what keeps pushing you away.

little.decisions.

2008-06-15T00:36:00.003-05:00

I've been really into making life changing decisions recently. And here I am on the cusp of another one. I think that I'm making the right decision. I'm already grieving the loss of the past. Stepping forward on the faith that I'm doing the right thing. I don't feel so young anymore and have more fleeting thoughts that I'm running out of time. That there are things that I should be doing but I'm not. Here I am though, pushing forward. Hoping for the best.

ny filth...

2008-06-08T01:41:00.003-05:00

is all over my feet. how gross is that? so... I was walking home tonight--wait, the story actually begins elsewhere.

This past Tuesday I took some time during the day and went to see the Sex and the City movie. I loved it but wasn't having the best day. So I decided to take the opportunity and go buy some shoes. I bought some fabulous shoes.

So tonight, I'm wanting to look fabulous for myself and I put on my new fabulous shoes. Well, this is the thing about shoes. Some of us women love them. I happen to be one of them. The thing that we are willing to sacrifice though, is comfort. I really didn't think that these shoes would be that bad. They are some pretty simple black patent heels. Probably a good 3 and a half inches. I like them alot. I forgot to think about the fact that I was in NYC and you walk EVERYWHERE. These shoes are not meant for wearing for 4 and a half hours straight. My feet are still telling me how much they hate me right now.

I walked to the subway and then got to Manhattan and had to walk to the bar. Once I got there, I had to wait in line. The line wasn't that bad. Then I spent the next 20 minutes looking for my friend who was one of the bartenders. There were 4 bars and loads of people to sift through. I finally found him and chatted for too damn long standing on my heels. Though--the lovely thing about bartender friends is their generosity with alcohol. I guess I looked like I needed it. Finally, I knew that my feet needed a break so I bid my goodbyes and went to find a place to sit down. Well, this bar is pretty much a bottle service bar. So people are dropping 250-500 bucks on a bottle and partying it up. This also means that they get most of the seats in the house. So it's a bit of an endeavor to find a not "bottle service" seat. I finally do and sit there for 15 minutes or so until Alicia Keys "No one" comes on and I take that as my cue to leave.

I walk to the subway and get to sit on both trains. On the walk back home from the subway, I'm cursing the purchase of these shoes wondering if my feet might just combust or just start gushing blood everywhere. I walk a good ten blocks with the shoes on. I keep telling myself the next taxi I see, I'm going to take. I just can't take these shoes anymore! But I'm too damn stubborn and I keep walking. Finally at the last 4 blocks I give in. I take my shoes off. This is something that a prim and proper New York girl would never do. But under the circumstances, I saw little option unless I was willing to sleep on the closest stoop. The shoes came off. It was like being saved from walking on fire. Although now, I was very much walking on glass and however many diseases that the sidewalks of New York have to offer. The last block, I knew there was a lot of glass. So I had to put the shoes back on. The pain immediately shocked my feet again. I got to the door and took the shoes off before fishing the key out of my deep purse carrying everything else except a pair of flip flops which would have been fantastic about 20 blocks ago.

The shoes that I bought are officially banished until I invest in some Dr. Scholls for Her or something to make this night not happen again. I guess I could start with not standing on them for 4 and a half hours straight...

check, please. a short story.

2008-06-07T16:27:00.003-05:00

Charlie looked over at him sleeping on the couch. Sleeping again, she thought. It had gotten to the point that every little thing he did was under the microscope. He was sleeping now to avoid it all. He sleeps all of the time, she thought. But how had it gotten so bad?

It was mere months ago when the torrid affair had begun. She'd met him haphazardly, on a subway to Midtown. No one really chats on subways unless you know each other. They'd exchanged a couple of glances on the ride from Brooklyn. Both had opened their mouths at the same time in an effort to release the pressure from their ears as the subway chugged through the tunnel under the river. Charlie pretended not to notice him although she noticed most everything. From the remnants of beach sand left on a subway seat to the fact that his collar on his shirt was wrinkled in the back. She was getting off the train a stop before him, as the train jolted to a stop, he tapped her on the shoulder, "Um, you dropped this." Hanging her a folded sheet of paper. She looked up at him knowing she hadn't dropped anything. He'd already moved away to let an elderly woman pass. She clutched the paper in her hand and got off the train.

After debating over calling him at all, she dialed. They chatted for a bit and decided to meet for coffee that same night. One date turned into 10 and they were officially an item. It seemed to come so easily with him. They'd laugh and chat on the phone until all hours of the night. They'd watch football or some horrible flick and be perfectly happy.

In a city where lives are always shifting and apartment leases are always ending, it was just 3 months before they moved in together. They moved to Charlie's one bedroom apartment. Luckily, it was in Brooklyn and a decent sized place. There was actually an extra room they used as the study/ storage.

Charlie couldn't pinpoint when the spiraling downward began to happen. It just did. Curt had decided to point out every flaw in Charlie. She just couldn't do anything right. They promised each other that they would try to communicate better but nothing seemed to change for either party. Both of them had already put up their guards for the next thing that might spark conflict. If he was short with her when she'd ask him a question, she'd point it out to him. Of course, according to him, she didn't point it out to him in the right way and so he just fired back "you did the same thing yesterday." No apology, no remorse. Just tit for tat. Days before, Charlie thought that things might be getting better. Maybe he was seeing--as she'd tried to explain to him through his anger and denial--that maybe it wasn't the best plan for them to move in together. Maybe they both had some growing to do apart from each other that they couldn't seem to achieve together. All those carefree moments of laughing had become moments of holding one's breath and waiting for the next verbal punch.

She honestly thought that a huge part of the problem was his expectations. He thought that when they moved in together he'd stop having the urges to order in every night. And he'd start waking up in the morning wanting to hit the gym and get back in shape. None of that had happened. They'd both been busy with work and just wanted to relax in the evenings. She thought that he'd become disappointed in himself. But he didn't see it as that. Maybe was projecting some of his frustration with himself onto her and causing strife where there was none. Charlie also knew that the situation was driving her a little crazy. She'd never had to share a space with someone before--much less a boyfriend. He didn't pick up the rug when he finished showering and it was soaking wet every time she walked in the bathroom. The worst part was that one argument that they had where he spent a good portion of it listing off the things that she did wrong or didn't do at all. Charlie was struggling to move on. After all, one can only deal with so many insults. Curt didn't even try to do it in a nice way. From his telling of the story, you'd think that Charlie was the only one at fault for any issues in their relationship.

Charlie was at a loss. He was snoring by now. Loudly as he always did. It was the middle of the afternoon and that was his coping mechanism. She didn't want him to give up. Still, it seemed that there was nothing left. He'd rather tell her that she does the same things or that she doesn't change than even think about addressing any of his issues. She knew that she had some things to figure out. She also knew that she couldn't think straight with such hostility. He was so easily angered that it was frightening. Maybe it was time for a break. He must have a friend he can live with for bit. They'd jumped in over their heads without knowing it and at this point there was no getting back.

sex. and the city.

2008-06-02T19:02:00.002-05:00

I finally went today and saw the Sex and the City movie. I'm a huge fan of the series. I own all of the seasons. I've watched the episodes multiple times. The movie was fantastic. It still had enough twists and turns and wasn't just a story about how their lives ended up after they all seemed to find their guy at the end of the sixth season.

ever thine. ever mine. ever ours.

I liked that quote. It just seems so positive. So hopeful.

I feel so Carrie sometimes. Just pensive. I missed that she didn't write more in the movie. I am quite reflective myself. I think about the relationships that I had in my life. I reflect upon them and where they went wrong or where the relationship was no longer working. Of course, all relationships take work. Some people want relationships to come easily. To just work. To ease along. Unfortunately, I'm quite a cynic. I question people's motives and I analyze people's actions--probably too much. I fundamentally believe that people don't change. Small changes maybe but not sweeping changes. I once believed that I could change someone if I loved them enough. It was a fleeting thought that carried with it a lot of pain. The experience reconfirmed that people don't change.

Really though, maybe overthinking it all is not good. Maybe it prevents one from doing certain things because they've thought about the actions too much.

There was another quote in the movie that I cannot find. It was something about that being in love is not determined by the length of the relationship. You can be in love with someone in weeks or months or years. I think I believe that. I used to say that I don't really believe or understand the concept of being in love. I do know about the pain afterwards though. It is tough to move on. I once dated someone and then things got not so great and we broke up. A year plus later, we dated again both at a better place with each other. Still, it didn't work out but that was just personalities.

I admit that I cried in the movie. I was so affected by the ploy of the characters. I mean, I guess that's the point of the show. As much as the 4 women have very different personalities, they are different in a way that allows most women to identify with one of them. Still, all of them are looking for love. And they all find it in their own way. It was a little too marriage-centric for me. Not everyone has to get married to find happiness. I've contemplated that once. Just once.

My biggest take-away is that I wish I had girlfriends like that. My friends from home are all married or engaged now. There's too much distance for the closeness of chatting about everyday life. We don't really talk about relationships either. But I would agree with Carrie, sometimes you need girlfriends to be able to tell the good from the bad. Or the ones that you need to move on from even though it hurts. Or rather, because it hurts.

Luckily, I'm in New York City now. Looking for the perfect apt. The perfect job--by going to school. And the closeness of friends.

brooklyn!

2008-05-27T10:52:00.002-05:00

finally here. so many decisions still to make. need to find a roommate that i can live with. the thing is that i want to live alone. not with anyone else. but in this city, i can't afford to do so. at all. i'll still look cause it would be ideal but maybe I should be more social and less to myself. after all, i'd like to have friends in the city and get out and enjoy myself after the first year. first year will be studying, sleeping and going to class. probably not much else at all. saving money and looking forward to hopefully working the next year.

decisions, decisions. what part of the city to live in. to attend the summer program or not. to make more money or not. to move now or wait. to go out or stay in.

nora is still adjusting. she's barks at any random noises. it was too quiet where we were last. she'll get used to the sirens again like she did in our old apartment. i miss that apartment. i just want that apartment to be here. and to be near the ocean. one day. one day.

.on.the.cusp.

2008-05-23T21:29:00.001-05:00

ah, yes. it's that time. on the cusp. just one night of brief sleep before an early morning flight. flight bringing me closer to the future. steps away from my next move. so many more decisions to make. to work or not to work. where to live. how to live. what to do. so many options. living life. loving life.

.reflection.

2008-05-23T00:14:00.003-05:00

I'm super busy these days. I'm not getting to do a lot of the things that I want to do because of it all. I want to go to the beach for a last time here. I want to be in the warm sun. I want to work with the horses. I want to volunteer at the shelter. I want to hang out with my brothers. I want to get time to chill. I want to see my sister for longer than her lunch break or the time I can squeeze into my incredibly busy schedule. I want to shoot the shit with Chelle--which I got to do the other day. I want to laugh with friends and create great memories. Still, I spend most of my time packing and trying to organize it all so that I can get shit shipped to me as I need it. It's so tough to move this way. Last time I move, I got to just throw a bunch of shit into a trailer and haul it away with my own car. I've reduced a lot of the stuff I've had. I get to claim a good amount on taxes next year for Goodwill again. The stress is showing on my face and I don't like that. I've become short with my mother mostly because I am too stubborn to accept any help.

The thing is that the stress doesn't dissipate once I get to NY. If anything, it increases. Half of my shit is there and half is here. I haven't found a place to live yet and you can only crash at a friend's place for a certain amount of time. I've promised them that it will be no longer than two weeks. I even told them that I'd pay them. I must be feeling quite benevolent. Soon, I'll be feeling like a poor, exhausted law student. And to add stress to stress, I am unemployed as of the end of the month. So, basically, I need to find an apartment and a job in the next week. It's really only 4 days too cause there's Memorial Day. Fabulous.

I wish I could be like Carrie from Sex and the City (which, yes, I am thrilled that the movie is coming out. I will be seeing it opening weekend and dragging whoever I may with me. Plus I'll BE in NYC. How fabulous is that?!). I wish that I could write articles in the paper and random articles in random magazines and make enough money to pay the bills. I'm scared right now that I'm headed in the wrong direction. That I'm chasing a dream that's not mine. That I'm not lawyer material. I want to do good. I want to fight for those who need it. I don't want to end up a heartless asshole who hates their job. I guess, I could still end up as a dog trainer. Working in NYC. Learning to be good enough to be called on by the people who can pay me high dollar so that I can make their pooches happier and the owners happier and be able to pay my rent. Which is fucking expensive. And, my god, the scams are RAMPANT in the city. I guess it works for them though. But really, how many people read "well, the problem is that I'm the only one with the keys and I need you to wire me money so that I can send the key to you." Oh, okay. How much do you want? "I would like the first and last months rent and the security deposit. Which is 6,500 bucks." Oh, okay. Here you go.

Seriously? Wow.

So yeah, I'm moving. I'm stressed. I have a jillion different things on my mind. I'm swinging between depression and just being okay with all the other shit going on in my life. I just wish that some people respected what I was going through and didn't demand that everything be about them. I don't have time for drama right now. I'm trying to think positive and hope that I'm moving in the right direction. Part of me can hardly believe that I'm making this step. The other part of me wishes that I would have done this two years ago so that I could go to my college reunion telling everyone that I got my shit together and things are fabulous. When really, I spent the past 4 years doing a job that I have little to no interest in. Alas, I'm moving forward--or something--now.

I got a message from an old friend asking me how many children I had now. I was caught between saying I don't want children so it's not shocking that I don't have any OR saying that I'm too busy for that. Meaning, I am incapable of maintaining a healthy relationship and therefore have no one I could have children with, much less do I have a career at all. I can't plan my life with no way to support it. Now, I'm figuring out a way to support it. Really, I have no clue what there is past this "career move." Three years. Three. I cannot believe I'm committing to that. I hope that I can do it in less time. That is assuming that I even make it past first year. I feel so uncertain about it all. I just need some support. Luckily moving to the city allows me the support of some good friends that I haven't seen in a while. Plus my potential roomie's bf is going to the same law school. Maybe he can help me prepare for my lack of a life for the first year. All of my friends from elsewhere are talking about coming to visit me. They didn't want to come see me in the last city I lived in. :) NYC is fabulous. I look forward to it. Maybe I'll be discovered as a model (lol, hahaha, yeah right) and then I can make great money for a few years and have some old ass producer buy me an apartment in TriBeCa or East Village. Ah, a girl can dream.

Enough babbling. I'm moving. I'm happy and excited and petrified. But I love life and I'm going to "grab the bull by its horns" (as my family might say) and do my best. The thing is that I've said goodbye so many times before. It's a wonder that my friends here keep attending the "she's leaving again" events. I love them for it though. Good times and great oldies. Now, time for the city and looking fabulous. Now, if only I had Carrie's wardrobe....

moving.is.stressful.

2008-05-21T19:44:00.001-05:00

The packing and the organizing everything is getting to me. I'm so tired of it all. I want help but I don't because I want to know where everything is. I just want to go to sleep and wake up in my bed in my new New York apartment.

back.to.the.grind.

last week.

2008-05-18T14:18:00.003-05:00

This is my last week near family and the few friends that have in my hometown. I have so many things I would like to get done. I just hope that I have time for it all. I need to see some of my girlfriends that I haven't gotten to say goodbye to. I need to organize my life so that I can get things shipped to me once I get settled.

I'll miss getting to see family on a regular basis but I look forward to the new challenges and the fun to be had. Mixed emotions as usual but forging forward.

ah, the games.

2008-05-18T13:52:00.004-05:00

Just a little tid bit from wikipedia:

"Passive-aggressive behavior refers to passive, sometimes obstructionist resistance to following authoritative instructions in interpersonal or occupational situations. It can manifest itself as resentment, stubbornness, procrastination, sullenness, or repeated failure to accomplish requested tasks for which one is assumed, often explicitly, to be responsible. It is a defense mechanism and more often than not only partly conscious. For example, people who are passive-aggressive might take so long to get ready for a party they do not wish to attend that the party is nearly over by the time they arrive. Another form of passive-aggressive behavior is leaving notes to avoid face-to-face discussion or confrontation."

I don't think I could be as eloquent as wikipedia without some time and research. Passive-aggressive people are an interesting breed. They might be upset with you but instead of talking to you or confronting you, they just do something indirectly hurtful. The games get really tiring for those of us who don't play such games. I truly do not understand why people don't just grab their cajones and deal with life and its, sometimes, uncomfortable situations. It's so much more mature to just talk about any beef you have with someone. But instead, those passive aggressive just shut you out but really want to be a part of your life. Instead of finding the balance, they play these games. I was told that I was not supposed to speak to a certain person EVER again. Yes, he said ever. Actually, I think he said "never call me again." Same concept though. Then he comes back saying maybe he made a mistake. And that he was upset. Yet, he fails to believe that he might need to sit down with a therapist and hash out these cruel, hurtful, angry, irrational outbursts where he demands such extremes. The severe ups and downs could also be another topic of conversation. He refuses to believe any of that. I can't help him if he doesn't help himself. But alas, it's not my job to take care of everyone. I've done some significant
"taking care of" that typically goes unappreciated. Cause "it's the past." Ah, yes. The past counts for nothing. Except for the fact that it is direct correlation to how we got to where we are now. Details.

Maybe I just care too much. I should let it go. Let it slide off my back. No more shedding tears. No more stressing and worrying. After all, it's not mutual. And I don't care to do what he does--the intentional inflicting of hurt and pure cruelty. After all, no one deserves to be treated that way. Dropped at one moment and then picked back up like I forgotten but cherished toy.

Moving!

2008-05-16T10:49:00.003-05:00

Finally, I am taking the next step. I'm moving to a city that I've always wanted to live in. New York City! I'm super excited about the move and super nervous all at the same time. I leave soon. Very soon. Hopefully, my next blog will be from one of the five boroughs.

I start school in the fall and hope to spend the summer making a little cash somewhere fun and hanging out with all the people that I know in the city. It's going to be fabulous. I'll finally feel like Carrie (yes, I did make a Sex and the City reference) and be able to talk about the fabulous-ness of the city. Going out and seeing all kinds of different people. And I'll get to play my favorite game--walking by people and guessing what language they are speaking. Yes, I'm easily amused. :)

I'm excited except when I think about the fact that I don't have a roommate or an apartment. But I hope to find both soon upon my arrival. I have one possibility. She seems like we might just work out. Hopefully, we can agree on a location. For as little space as it takes up, it's not easy to commute long distances across the city. I look forward to having no car and no car insurance payment. It'll all be made up for when I pay my rent though. Nora is going to be a city dog again. She will be a fabulous dog rocking it in the city. I think I'm ready for the challenge. After all, this is what I get up and do. I move. I chase the dream. I keep going. Now I just hope I can make it through first year. If I do well first semester, I'm golden. I may not have any friends, but I'll catch up with them over winter break. I'm so scared to fail. This is the first thing that I have been this nervous about failing. But I'm pushing forward, I'm going to love school and love the pursuit of this dream and hope that it's the right path. If I don't do well first year, I'll officially be a dog trainer and I'll go where ever I must to get certified. There is a dog here at the shelter that I want. She's a poodle mix and super sweet. She has those sad eyes though. Like she's been neglected. It makes me just want to take her home and love her. But alas, I'm moving and I can only take one dog on the plane. :)

Off we go into the wild blue yonder, dreaming big and scared shitless.

ranting.

2008-05-15T12:14:00.003-05:00

I should be working right now because I have a lot that I need to complete by tomorrow and I'm a little nervous that I'll run out of time. With that said, I am having a tough time staying on task with work. I want to be frantically looking for apartments (oh, yeah. I'm moving. More about that later.) and trying to find roommates. I've got a good lead on one roommate. It's nice that I have so many friends where I am moving. They have been quite helpful. I would like to be spending some time hanging out with the family more and trying to pack and organize my life. But, in the past week, I have exerted a lot of my energy on the recent "being told to fuck off and never speak to said person again." Let's call him, John. It's a benign name. No one will ever know the true identity.

So, after John's explosive kicking me out of his life on Monday, I literally spent most of Monday crying. I woke up depressed the next morning and just wanted to sleep. Fortunately, I have a contract that pays well that I need to work for to actually make the money. And I have to go to the adoption center. Otherwise, I think I would have stayed in bed on Tuesday. I finally got up and motivated. I ended up speaking to John via instant messaging by the end of the day. It was a brief conversation. Then he left me a message and signed off. I responded to it, again briefly. That response resulted in an actual email from him. And it's been going back and forth since then. And now, as of Wednesday, he wants to make amends and at least be friends that talk every once and a while.

All that's fine and dandy except for the fact that the ping-pong effect is getting to me. It's tough to go through really caring about someone and devoting all of my time to them during a certain point where he needed help. Only to be thrown out of someone's life for seemingly indefinite amount of time. And I understand that everyone has their breaking points. Maybe his breaking point was the actual missing the birthday. In reality, it was compounded with many undiscussed and buried issues. But that action, or lack of action, might have pushed him over the edge. But any true friendship (or relationship) that is devoted to the betterment of it, does not give up so easily. I personally think that it is absolutely ridiculous to tell someone that you are never speaking to them because of something unintentional that they did. John prides himself on being so forgiving of an ex who cheated on him. But, I do not deserve such graciousness. There was one point that John and I were not speaking for a time period of about 3 weeks. He was constantly upset with me and we just fought when we talked. So, I asked for a break from it all and he grudgingly complied. That time was a good break. It seemed that there was a greater appreciation for each other after that.

What I don't understand is that it is okay for him to behave this way. He has these crazy mood swings. Even when we were together, he'd be happy and then pissed at me because of something else I wasn't doing enough. He thinks that after being told to never speak to him again, that I should just go running back to him once he decides that he might have been upset and not meant all the cruel things that he said. I truly don't even understand why he would change his mind because he apparently, thinks very little of me. He thinks that I'm in capable to displaying affection or expressing my love for someone. He makes statements like "that's just not who you are." Oh really? Well, pushing me away is definitely the best way to actually know anything about me and my character. He's been pushing me away by not sharing since the accident. And then getting upset with me when I don't do the right thing. How many times is someone supposed to put themselves back in that situation before enough is enough? I'm upset now and I'm writing this while I'm completely frustrated with the situation. I probably shouldn't but I'm venting. I just don't understand it.

If I physically threw someone out of my house, for example, and then came back two days later and told them that I wanted them to come back. Mind you, this is not the first time this has happened. There's been about 4 other times that I've locked this person out of the house and not let them back in for hours. This time I'd tried to make it permanent. After all, this person doesn't clean up the kitchen and doesn't keep their stuff put away or anything else. This person is imperfect. What I forget is that I'm imperfect and that another issue is that I'm unwilling to change, to give just a bit.

Alas, I understand how we got to this point. As I've said before, the relationship was volatile and tumultuous. There were just 30 days of the honeymoon period. Everything was great then. But I knew, even then that there was a possibility that this could go badly, very badly. Still, there was also the chance that it could be amazing and wonderful and that seemed to be the direction that it was taking. To this day, he fantasizes about getting that honeymoon period back. And that's the only time that I was "perfect". After that, there was nothing that I could do right. I was constantly missing something, not doing something enough. And he didn't back down. It was all my fault. After a while, I got worn down and it gets harder to pick up the pieces and live up to those standards while I'm continuously knocked back down by another complaint about the shit that I should be doing.

This is just my rant. I do not know what it means for the present situation. I'm just tired of being so hurt and then yo-yo-ed back in to the caring part of him.

three strikes.

2008-05-12T11:01:00.002-05:00

If 'only life wasn't like baseball. I've finally done it. I've lost a friend and someone that I cared about deeply. They didn't die but they shoved me out of their life. I didn't think that this day would come. I also didn't know the rules of what was an unforgivable sin. But now, I know.

I forgot a birthday. I forgot to call and give birthday wishes. I have forgotten my own family members' birthdays before. They forgave me and we moved on. I feel awful about it but birthdays were never really a big deal. I didn't even get anything from my family for my birthday this year. I don't mind that. Plus things like that mean more on days that it's not expected. (For example, buying a watch for someone and sending it to them just because.) The days get busy and although I plan to call. I get busy and forget. I'm not making excuses. I'm just devastated that it ended on that note. Apparently, during this transition time in my life, I've been a shitty friend. There's probably more complaints out there. This recent one is just a slap in the face. I was told to never call again. And that there was no friendship to be had. When the reality is, that there's no relationship and that's the issue. The issue is that I do not profess my love or tell this person that I care about them enough. Really, I didn't do anything enough. It's not the first time that this has been an issue but apparently, it IS the last.

The thing is that I'm not in a relationship. He's been on dates. He's trying to "move on." And I am trying to figure out my life. To quit the job that I've had for the past 4 years--which I've successfully done. I'm trying to figure out my next step. I can't make anyone do anything for me. Maybe that's part of it. I have little faith in people and so I'm constantly surprised by the little things. He, on the other hand, expects the little things. I, apparently, suck at providing them. I really think though, that I could not have done anything to make him happy. There would always be something else that I failed to do. I've failed for the last time now. I don't think that I've ever had someone tell me that they never want to speak to me again. Now, I have. It breaks my heart that it ended like this. I thought that we could be friends. I definitely had moments of wondering if it would actually work out. But alas, such wonderments are pointless now.

It's very depressing to me. And it comes at an inopportune time. I'm trying to move. I'm trying to find a place to live long distance. I'm stressing out about whether I'll have a job in the next couple of months or enough money to survive law school. I don't even know if law school is the right decision anymore. But I'm pushing forward. Scared shitless. Needing the support of friends and family.

And I've apologize. My apology was flatly rejected. I don't know what else to say. And I guess, there's nothing more to say because he won't speak to me anymore. He succeeded in his goal of hurting me how I hurt him. My hurt wasn't intentional though. I legitimately forgot. I hate myself for forgetting. I thought about it the day before. I even looked for a bouquet of flowers online but I thought he'd think that was lame and he's never home to pick things up anyway. Then I got caught up doing something else and never came back to what I should do. All I had planned was to call. I failed at that. And it's the unforgivable sin to him. It's the deal breaker.

There was a song that made me think of him that I heard the other day. I was going to tell him that but I thought it'd be cheesy. Now, I know that the things that I don't do because I think they'll be cheesy are sometimes the things that I should do. I've failed at many relationships before so maybe it is me. My communication could definitely stand some fine tuning. But we aren't even near each other.

I'm totally devastated. It hurts to have someone that you care about think so little of you. I've only had one other conflict in my life similar to this. Except I never dated that person. It was just another break down of communication. But I've struck out again. Maybe this is another reason I don't like baseball. You get to watch a game where the goal of the opposite team is to get the batter to fail. To get him to fuck up three times. To miss the ball. To not to the right thing at the right time. Sometimes, as the batter, I feel like he just wanted an excuse for me to fail. To see me fail so that he could pull out. Kick me out of the game. Never to have another chance. Either way, he ended it. It's depressing. Over the top, depressing. But my hands are tied. He doesn't care to reason with me. Or speak to me at all. Three strikes (not that I knew about any of them before) and I'm out. I disagree on one point--that it's not worth it. But it doesn't matter. It makes me sick to my stomach but I've struck out.

the disaster.

2008-04-23T19:20:00.003-05:00

So, yesterday was a bit of a traumatic day for me. I'm still kicking myself for it. Yesterday, Nora got groomed. I wanted to get her groomed now so that when we move we won't have to find a groomer immediately and she will be decently grown out so that she'll stay warm. I don't know a groomer that I trust where I live right now. My mother trims her own dogs. When I trim my dog it ends in disaster. She looks like she was thrown into a tornado with random bits of hair left behind. Let's just say that it's no where near even and I get frustrated with the whole process. I guess I should get used to grooming her myself so that I don't have to spend that money while I'm in law school.

Anywho, this groomer is someone that I met at the shelter. She's young and compassionate. Kind enough to donate her time to the shelter to groom the shelter dogs. She told me that she had her own little grooming business on the side. Now, I think that just means that she grooms dogs and pockets the money. I doubt that she actually has a business that she puts the money to and then pays herself. That's one way to avoid taxes. I ask her if she would be interested in doing our 3 poodles (my Nora and my mom's two). She tells me a time and is going to come out to our place to do the grooming. Sweet.

She gets here and does pretty good on the top part of Nora's body. I told her that I wanted poms on Nora's legs. I should have known I was asking too much. The first time she starts trimming one of the legs, buuuzzzz right through down to the foot. So much for a pom. Now Nora wasn't going to have poms at all. Oh well. Then Nora won't be still when she continues to trim her legs so I walk away thinking maybe Nora will calm down if I'm not there. I continue watching it off and on through the kitchen window (they did the grooming outside). Then I see a classic mistake, one that truly pisses me off, she goes to trim Nora's ears. Any other groomer would ASK the owner before doing such a thing. And since she's incapable, she trimmed off about an inch or more! Nora's ears USED to be super cute and long and such a part of her personality. She moves her ears when you talk to her or when she perks up about something. I was fuming about this but once she started cutting, I couldn't tell her to stop cause now they'd be uneven. Ugh. I tell myself, she'll grow back and calm myself down.

Soon afterwards, she calls me to help hold Nora because Nora has just given up on being still at all. She thrashes towards me as I reach to pick her up like she's trying to get away from the boogy monster himself. I lift her up and notice that there's blood on her stomach. At this point, I point it out to the imbecile groomer. She gets out this blood clotting stuff and tries to put it on Nora. Now, this wasn't just any accidental nick. This was a frickin' CUT. It was a bit of a triangular shape and there was a flap of skin hanging. I barked at the broad when she tried to put the blood clotter on. I told her no, not to touch Nora and just finish the trimming the legs. That was the only time that I may have come across mean. I tried to collect myself as she finished trimming the legs. After all, I was just trying to help out the young groomer and give her some business. From now on, I'm sticking to old ladies--ones that have been in the business for years. No more young bimbos learning the ropes on my dog. She finishes the legs and asks me if she should do the face. She hadn't done any trimming on the face. In my head I think, "do the face? why so you can take one of her eyes out too?" But I say, "No thanks. And I'll give Nora a bath. Here's your money. Thanks." I don't think I was overly short but I was definitely dissatisfied. She felt bad though, I have to give her that.

She called later and asked about doing the other dogs the next day. Well, she actually said "Would you feel more comfortable if someone else did the other dogs?" I would feel more comfortable if you'd ask if you could trim my dog's ears and if you would have not fucking cut her. Of course, I say none of that. I told her I'd call back to tell her what my mother decided. As soon as my mother sees Nora's gash on her belly, she says that there's no way that the groomer is going to do her dogs. I call the girl back this morning and kindly leave a message, "My mother is trying to save money this month and will not be needing you to come trim her dogs." *Click*

I did cry about her cutting Nora. I'm now more annoyed by the fact that she trimmed Nora's ears than I probably would have been. I worry about Nora getting an infection and not being able to tell me that it hurts or itches or is seeping puss or whatever. It irks me that she hurt my little girl. Unfortunately, I will have to see her again when she comes to the shelter. I think I might give her one piece of advice--always ask before trimming a poodle's ears. Always. She's young and it's not her fault but it was the worst cut that I've ever seen from a groomer. I'm highly disappointed that I chose her. I couldn't have known though.

Now, Nora can't have any visitors for at least 2 weeks so she can heal and her hair can grow out a bit. Maybe I'll have to learn to groom her after all.

feeling the music.

2008-04-15T20:55:00.004-05:00

I don't know really what exactly it is about music but I love it. I love the beats and the rhythms. I love the instruments and digitally enhanced sounds--ok, I don't love those. As much as I like to dance and enjoy the music, I think I personalize a lot of songs. Maybe it's my writing but I think that overall, lyrics are a very important part of music for me. That is excluding jazz and blues pieces without any lyrics. I still love those.

There's a few songs on this blog now. Most of them have some meaning or remind me of fond memories. Others remind me of not so great memories. Still, it's the combination of the emotion and the music that moves me. I quite literally cry when I hear some songs. Not every word of lyrics is applicable to me or experiences in my life. It's the basic sentiment of the song and the feelings it evokes. Maybe it's crazy that I let songs affect me like this. But that's just how it is.

I'm loving the song "teachme" by Musiq. It reminds me of wanting a relationship to work but there just seems to be something missing. Something that may be irreparable. But I love the song because he wants it to work and he wants to try his best to make the necessary changes. He wants to know how to love her. It's a question that more couples should ask each other so that neither party is disappointed because their significant other doesn't know what they want.

The song "White Flag" by Dido reminds me of an ex in college. It also makes me think about my own stubbornness. Going down with the ship, no matter what. "I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder." Damn stubborn. No white flag.

"Water Runs Dry" by Boyz II Men just serves as a reminder. "Why do we hurt each other? Why do we push love away?" Reminds me that the petty things are not important when it comes to a relationship. "Some people will work things out and some just don't know how to change." You care about someone for who they are and shouldn't let the petty things taint the relationship.

"This joint right here makes me want to.... whooo!" MJ is awesome. Her song "Just Fine" is my uplifting song reminded me that my life is pretty good already. Yeah, there's some things I'd love to have but overall, "I wouldn't change my life, my life's just fine."

The song "So Simple" was a favorite song of mine some time the year before last. I'm sure that it was referencing a relationship that I was going through at the time. I don't really remember right now. But I do know, it's not so simple.

Ms. Alicia Keys is one of my favorite artists. Her song "Wreckless Love" was one of those that brought me to tears. It just reminds me of the beginning of some relationships I've had. When it's fabulous and fun. When you do spontaneous things and "just could not get enough of it." Then things change or the flame is lost for some reason or another. And we reminisce on what used to be and want it back. Sometimes, I miss the wreckless love.

"The Way that I love you" by Ashanti is just a song that talks about cheating. I got cheated on in college. "I found out we were living a lie." It also reminds me of high school when my high school sweetheart married someone else. "I know now that you don't love me the same, the way that I love you." The wedding was a shock. I got the invite 5 months after we broke up. Tough times.

"hey there delilah" is just the perfect love song--if there is such a thing. He just compliments her throughout the song. Making a long distance relationship work. Looking to the future. Beautiful.

"Come Close" is one of my favorite songs. I used to wear green contacts in college. I had a friend that used to ask me if my eyes were still green. Another love song.

I was once told that "One wish" should be our song by the person I was dating at the time. It was after some drama in the relationship and we were searching for ways to fix it. He mentioned this song. I'm not sure how he randomly chose this song. "If I had one wish, we'd be best friends." Sweet and hopeful.

"Let Me Love You" brings back flashes of almost being thrown down some stairs by my ex until his roommate grabbed him and started fighting him. Somehow, I still cared for him. And stayed too long after that display of violence. You can't change them. You just can't. For a long time, I couldn't listen to that song without tearing up and my heart just aching and feeling like I wanted to vomit, all at the same time.

"I promise myself I will love me first genuinely." I had to get to this point to pick up the pieces. "I remember" is somehow an encouraging song. The love is over but it's for the best. No reason to lose oneself for the sake of another.

I could go on and on about songs and what they've meant in relation to my life. I'll spare you though. All of the aforementioned songs are in my playlist below.

"These words are my own. From my heart flow." ~ Natasha Bedingfield

the table. a short story.

2008-04-08T23:15:00.003-05:00

My father is a dry alcoholic. Well, "dry" is not far as he no longer gets obliterated. He drinks maybe a drink or two a day. That's all. He has better control of the quantity of alcohol that he drinks. Mostly because he knows that he's a bastard when he's drunk. His drink of choice is vodka. I personally hate vodka. It makes me want to vomit maybe because the thought of him makes me want to vomit.

I remember the worst night ever. I'd done something minimal but like usual it was unsavory enough to him that he decided to take it into his own hands, literally. He slapped me in the face as hard as he could. My left cheek stung. I scuffled under the table to get away from him. My entire family--my siblings and my mother--just stood there as he went after me. He was yelling.

"Come here. Get the fuck from under the table."

He jerked the chairs away from the table, stripping my buffer with each chair grabbed. He finally pulled me from under the table and hit me again and again with his open fist. He hit my face and my body. He didn't care where he hit me--just as long as I shrieked and coiled away from him. He loved the power and thrill of the moment. I was deathly afraid of him. I loved him purely out of fear. Fear of what he would do if he ever suspected that I didn't love him. But truly, I didn't. And I hated my mother for letting it all happen.

I grew up with bruises. My thighs and legs were consistently concealed throughout childhood for fear that the school would discover my bruises and ask questions. I couldn't deal with the questions. I might have cried. I might have revealed too much about my father. After all, he was my father. I felt bad. He hurt me and my mother but that's how it was. I had to be stronger than that. I had to.

He beat me nearly unconscious. I didn't know what all had happened by the end of it. My mother told me years later that she let it happen because she wanted me to know the man that he was. She wanted me to know the "real" father that I had. She wanted me not to idealized him so much. She wanted me to know just how much of a bastard he was, so she let him beat me. In front of my siblings, maybe they'd realize it too. He wasn't such a good man. And still, to this day, I fear him. What kind of a mother purposely instills such fear in her children?

That table was my only barrier. My only hope of getting away. It didn't stop him. He still grabbed me and beat me. He still did whatever he pleased. He still fucked whatever broad that he fancied. He still assaulted me. He still lives in my nightmares.

The addiction was alcohol. The addiction was power. The addiction controlled his life. The addiction destroyed other lives. Yet, he never acknowledged it. He never acknowledged the pain that he inflicted. Never.

blah.

2008-04-06T22:08:00.003-05:00

I can't stand when I go through these negative times. I've not have completely positive thoughts this week. I get nervous about going to law school. I wonder if maybe I'm just supposed to grow up to be a dog trainer. I love working with animals. But then I think, I love working with people too. Law school will open up doors for me to do some of the work I've wanted to do. Finally, I will have the education to do so.

I also wonder if I should just go to the first law school I've gotten into. I'm super psyched about getting into this school but then I wonder if maybe I should just go to the cheapest school so I can get out of debt the fastest possible. I look forward to being somewhere were I have more friends. I miss the daily interactions of seeing friends or even the weekly interactions. I miss having good friends close by. Luckily, I've gotten to hang out with some friends here. It just seems so different because my friends here are getting married or are married and I haven't even found someone who will date me longer than a year. The one time that I've been proposed to, the man was one some serious drugs and had a brain injury. I'm not even sure I can count it as a proposal. It should probably be more of a spontaneous comment by a non-well man.

I want to do what I'm supposed to do. I want to do what will make me happy but I'm not sure that I even know what that is at times. There are so many variables that I do not have control over. All I can do know is move forward. Pursue what I think might be right and see what happens. If nothing else, I can quit law school and become a dog trainer. An interesting life story, at least.

Skunk, possum and snake.

2008-04-02T19:32:00.004-05:00

So... days in my family are never dull! Today I get a phone call from my mom. She starts explaining to me that she heard the dogs barking outside ferociously and not stopping. She walks out the back door and sees a skunk between the two dogs (a Brittney spaniel and a good sized mutt) and a mule and a horse. The mule was pawing at the skunk trying to kill it. The dogs were barking and jumping at the skunk. I tell my mom that the skunk has to be rabid. Skunks are nocturnal and do not come out during the day. If a skunk is out during the day, there is something wrong. The other hint was that the skunk was trying to fight all of the 4 animals surrounding him. Skunks aren't natural fighters. Mom tells me that she shot the skunk twice already but it wasn't dead. Rabid animals are harder to kill, more resilient. She wanted me to find out what she needed to do with the skunk once she killed it.

I made some phone calls and found out that the rabid skunk needed to be buried or burned. I call back to tell her that. By then, my brother had gotten home from school. They were both outside trying to find the skunk. Now, they believed that there was a skunk and babies. The skunk had run into the hay barn after my mother shot it. I got home a few minutes later. They called me over to help chase the skunk and its babies out. My brother managed to move a piece of wood in the pile they were hiding under and saw that there was a skunk AND a possum. The skunk had the possum by the tail. It was biting the possum's tail. Now, possums are disgusting creatures. There's a picture of a possum to the right. Still, I feel less bad about killing a possum. My brother hands me a gun and he holds one as my mother prepares to shake the wood pile and frighten the two nasty creatures out. They run out and run away from me. My brother shoots at hits the possum. My mother takes the shotgun from me and shoots into the hay barn once the skunk and the possum came into sight. She hit both of them because the shell has little tiny balls that spread. The skunk dies but the possum keeps running. My brother runs around the barn as we try to catch the damn thing. The last thing we need is some rabid animal running free. Eventually, it would die somewhere and whatever animal eats the carcass will also be infected with rabies. My brother finds it and shoots it. The thing finally dies. I'm looking at it and I say, "there's a snake inside the possum or it's still breathing." I could see something moving but I wasn't sure if the animal was still breathing or if something was under it. My brother puts the gun a couple feet from the possum's head and pulls the trigger.

Now, we have to figure out a way to dispose of the bodies. My mom goes back to the house to get some paper to burn on the bottom of the barrel that we are going to burn them in. I go to shovel the nasty, nasty possum up and can't get it to stay on the damn shovel. Finally, my brother gets it on the shovel and hands it to me. I take the shovel. That's when I see it. The possum's belly is still moving because there are baby possums (disgusting rat looking things and I HATE rats) in its pouch. I try to hurry and carry the shovel over to the pit but at this point I'm super upset and disgusted. I hand the shovel to my little brother and bend over. I feel like I'm about to puke. I didn't though. We loaded the burning barrel full of paper and then put the possum body in. I went back to the barn with the shovel and picked up the skunk. I took the skunk over to the barrel and we light the thing on fire. Immediately, we all go inside and shower and wash all of our clothes. Luckily, we never got sprayed directly. Still, we smelled like skunk.

I think I'm going to have nightmares about the ugly little rat-like possum babies. They also make this horrible shrieking noise. Once we found them under the wood pile they all made this horrible noise. It's almost like scratching your nails across a chalkboard. That kind of awful noise. I despise those little disgusting creatures. Still, life is never dull on the ranch.

this weekend.

2008-03-31T11:27:00.002-05:00

So, this past weekend was my one of my brother's birthdays. My mom wanted to get a Great American Cookie for my brother. He goes to college away from home. We called the Great American Cookie Company near my brother and asked if they delivered. They said no. My little brother then said "we should go up there and deliver it ourselves." And that's exactly what we did.

We left around 9:30pm on Friday night. My brother's college is a 6 hour drive from here. Friday night we drove 4 hours and then crashed at a hotel. A crappy hotel but it was a bed and we were tired so it didn't much matter. We woke up Saturday and called the birthday boy to tell him we wanted to take him out to lunch. He was surprised and appreciative. We went to lunch and then took him to his work. We picked up the Great American Cookie and took it to the birthday boy at work. He was surprised again and appreciated it. He worked for a few hours while my brother and I took my dog to the dog park. Nora was not at all friendly. We used to go to dog parks and she would automatically play and run around and make the other dogs chase her cause she's super fast. She'd jump in the water and get absolutely filthy. She loved it. But not this time. She was scratching and standing up on my legs for me to pick her up. A little Boston terrier tried to come play with her and she lunged at him growling. He ran away and sat down and put his front paws over his eyes. It was the cutest thing. I had to go over and apologize to him just because I felt bad. We stayed at the park for a while hoping that Nora would come around. She didn't. She just wasn't in the mood. I think she was still not happy about the fact that she'd spent hours stuck in the car and she doesn't like road trips.

We ran some other errands and then decided to take Nora to a friend's house and go to the movies. As we were headed to the friend's house, the birthday boy called and told us he was out of work early so we headed to pick him up. Hung out with some of his friends that night and then went and crashed at a friend of the family's house.

The nest day we visited a friend of mine from college who lived in a city on the way home. It was good to see him. Good to see any friends seeing as I've been living at home near no friends for a while now. We all wen to lunch and then walked around a high class mall. I saw a Charles David store and a Kate Spade store which is not normal fare for the city I live in now. Beautiful shoes and beautiful bags. Too bad saving up for law school doesn't allow for such expenditures.

Overall, it was a good visit. Good to see my brother for his birthday and getting out of town for a bit. We got back around 8:30 pm on Sunday night. Chatted about our trip and went to bed. My body was so sore from the driving.

Good times though. It's nice to be near by to family to be able to do such things.

the tally.

2008-03-26T16:18:00.002-05:00

So, the fun has begun. This week has been quite a week. I've found out about three different schools this week. I got one acceptance, one rejection and one waitlist. This week is not over yet so there may be more fun to be had.

Now the total tally is one acceptance, two rejections and one waitlist.

All that I needed was one acceptance to be able to go to law school. I can prove myself my first year and maybe transfer if needed.

Either way, I could not be more psyched about getting into law school.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of you who supported me in my decision. I really appreciate the encouraging words that motivated me to complete each of those applications and be able to take the blows through each rejection letter.

I appreciate you all very much.

Stoked

2008-03-24T22:35:00.002-05:00

I just got an acceptance letter to a law school that I really wanted to get into. Stoked. So stoked about that.

I open the envelope today totally prepared to get another rejection letter and the first line reads:

"It is my distinct pleasure to offer your admission to [super awesome school] for fall 2008 as a Full Time student."

Fuck yeah. That's literally all I could say. Fuck yeah. I was so psyched. I broke into tears. Called some family and friends and could not contain my tears. So happy to know that somewhere saw my potential in my applications. I hated applying to schools because my LSAT scores were NOT fantastic and I just felt that after not being in school for a few years, a law school may not look to well upon that. But apparently, I know nothing. They accepted me and I'm stoked. I can't say it enough. It was the best feeling. Now I just need to figure out where else I get accepted and see where to go from there. I think I won't hear from the 7 other schools I applied to until May.

Either way, today was great. Law school here I come. (I can't believe I'm going back to school!)

Wooooooohoooooooo!

bah... decisions.

2008-03-20T10:05:00.003-05:00

I am feeling ridiculously torn right now. I have some time left before I have to start school in the fall. I also have some time before I will even know where that will be. And now, I don't have a job as of the end of March.

Really, this leaves me with lots of options. I've always wanted to live in New York. Spending a little more than the summer there would be an awesome time. Plus I have lots of friends in the city. I've also thought about living on the West Coast for a while just to be around my friends who live out there. And, now, supposedly there may or may not be a job (the same job that I have now and just do remotely) waiting for me back where I just moved from. I don't know how I feel about moving back for that job. It doesn't make as much money as I potentially could. It has crossed my mind to just move back, take the job and then find something different and tell the old job to shove it. (After all, they are being very difficult about this whole process anywho. I was PISSED about it all last week but I'm over that now.)

Still, really, I just have one goal.

To live cheaply, as cheaply as possible, and make good money and save up to go back to school in the fall.

That's the goal. There are lots of other things that would be great to go along with that like not living with my parents, living with someone to cheapen the cost of rent, having someone I love nearby (this is the more than friends insinuation), having friends nearby, enjoying my time before school and saving LOTS of money (yeah, I know I already said that).

NYC offers a lot. But just with the cost of living, it may or may not (most likely will) defeat the main goal---to save cash for school. Ugh. And I don't have a job up there yet.

The place that I just moved from is still attractive--after all, I miss it now. But there's the cost of moving. The fact that I don't LOVE my job. (But I will HAVE a job.) And most of my close friends there moved away last year.

And I could also stay here. The rent's cheap--parents don't make me pay anything yet. But living here leaves me unemployed and looking for a job where I will probably not make over $25,000 a year. That's IF I can even get a job here. I'm over qualified for a lot of jobs and under qualified for others--teaching at the local university, for example. There's no real IT shops here. I could do one of many minimum wage jobs. But that's not bringing in the cash that I'll need for the first year of school.

So here I am, absolutely torn with no idea on what to do. Decisions. Ugh.

happy b-day, Nora.

2008-03-06T21:02:00.003-05:00

It's a day late but yesterday was Nora's birthday, March 5th. She's now 2 years old. She still thinks she's the coolest and biggest dog around. Tiny body with a huge personality. I love her. She makes my days brighter.

This picture is a few months old but she hasn't changed much. With the exception of the fact that I did her last grooming so she's a little more uneven then in this picture. Not that anyone notices besides me. And no, she doesn't normally have a bow in her hair. This picture is right after a grooming. They put the bow in and she (or I) promptly take it out within a day or so. Although, I must admit, the bow is kinda adorable.

So happy birthday, Nora. We've officially made it through a year with no surgery. (Some of my past readers may remember my distress over her knee surgery when she was 8 months old) Knock on wood. Let's look forward to many years of no surgeries and maybe another little furry friend soon enough. Working at an animal shelter is not doing me any good in keeping me from getting another dog.

No birthday party this year. Nora doesn't have any puppy friends here. Maybe next year. Wherever we are then.

Happy Birthday, Nora!

conundrum.

2008-03-05T21:32:00.004-05:00

I was driving today and thinking. And I realized something about myself. One of my faults is that I let things get to me more than I should. I realized today that part of the reason (or at least my justification, even if it's invalid) is that I care too much. I care about people who are important to me a lot. I have a problem with people who intentionally hurt or treat badly people who I care about.

For example, I went to high school with this girl that I see every once and a while. She was a girl who was a total bitch to a good friend of mine. My good friend had gone through all kinds of hell in high school but this other broad took it upon herself to just make things worse. This other broad loved to talk about how she was better looking than my friend and point out the issues in her life. She was not supportive of my friend and my friend was so used to the abuse and starved for friends, she just took it. I never appreciated the way that the other broad treated my friend. I'd point it out to her and yet her behavior didn't change. Now, I see her and can only imagine that she's still that same shallow girl and I don't have any desire to speak with her.

The unfortunate part of this whole thing is that it's trickled into various places in my life. An ex of mine had an ex who didn't treat him very well and based on the fact that I loved him-- I never liked her. So I ask myself a couple of questions. Am I restricting myself by being overly loyal? Am I using too much energy even thinking about this and letting these people affect me so? I probably am using too much energy. I probably should just not care and be indifferent. But being indifferent would not be true to who I am. I have convictions. I have excessively strong emotions. I don't want to play nice with the ex's ex after all that she put him through. And yet, people don't understand this. People don't understand that it all stems from the (apparently excessive) sense of loyalty and pure love and respect for my friends and those that I hold dear to me. I can't just sit by and be okay with the maltreatment or the lies or the hurt inflicted.

But alas, this is my conundrum. My own incomprehensible struggle. But like always, I'll figure out what's next and move on.

sometimes.

2008-03-03T23:52:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I think I might just be figuring it out. I might be realizing what's next and be on my way towards it. Then I get thrown a curve ball and start to second guess myself.

I guess the only way to know is to do it but I wonder what I'm sacrificing in the pursuit. I guess it's all about taking that chance. Figuring it out. I just hope that I make the right decision and not something that I'll regret soon afterwards.

Ugh. I hate making big decisions. I wish someone would just come tap me on the shoulder and tell me what I should do and erase my doubts.

the shelter. day one.

2008-03-03T21:36:00.002-05:00

Today I worked from the shelter. I spent half of my day working on my laptop and answering phones. I was the greeter and got to help people out and answer the questions that they had. We had a couple of adoptions today. A cute boston terrier got a home today. It's nice to see these previously unwanted animals get homes.

I had one interesting (and sad) story today. A guy called and explained that there was a stray cat in his neighborhood and he'd started to feed it a while back and it stuck around. Well, they discovered later that the cat was pregnant. He said that he saw her last night walking around the neighborhood with a kitten hanging part way out of her vagina. He called the 24 hour vet in town and the vet walked him through out to get the kitten out using baby oil and stuff. He successfully got the kitten out but the vet said that there's no telling how long the kitten had been hanging out of the cat. And that the other kittens may not have been able to be born because the one was stuck. The vet said that it was was possible that the other kittens were stillborn inside the cat. The vet quoted the man $450 for C-section. The man didn't want to pay that much for a stray cat. So he called our shelter. The city shelter would just put the cat down while we were a no kill shelter that might be able to get help for the cat. I passed the call on to our medical staff. I have
no idea what she told the man but it was an interesting story nonetheless.

There was also a couple that came in with a pretty blue heeler today. They had to give him up because he chased their horses and would try to bite them. Sweet, sweet dog. He just didn't work on the ranch.

Overall, it was a good day. Damn good day even. It was nice to get out of the house and get to interact with people as opposed to being alone all day. I think I might start working at the shelter 4 hours a day. They have the internet there and I can still get my work done. It might just be the perfect situation.

the shelter.

2008-03-01T21:31:00.003-05:00

I went to the animal shelter again today. We had a volunteer orientation this morning for a couple of hours. The shelter is just starting to get an actual volunteer program running. Since they are relatively new to the area, they just had a handful of volunteers who came in and helped sporadically. Now, there's been some serious advertising going on and there are quite a few more volunteers signing up. A bunch of them are children so they are basically there to play with and interact with the animals. It was an interesting orientation. I didn't learn anything that I didn't already know. It was nice to see volunteers that seemed to be eager to be there. I left after orientation to visit with my sister and her girlfriend.

We had a hilarious conversation. We talked about my sister's job at a call center. I put in my two cents about call centers. In my own job, I'd trained people at call centers to use a new software system. It was a hell of an experience. And, to top it off, the call center that I worked in was in Mississippi. Apparently, there's quite a few similarities between call centers no matter what state they are in. My sister somehow does well at the call center. I, on the other hand, would get fired the first day I worked there. I can just see it now... some broad yelling and cursing at me to fix her account or whatever and my response would be "No, fuck you." *Click.* Or some dude telling me that he wants to speak to a supervisor. I'd be like "Sure." Put him on hold and practice my Indian accent before I pick up the phone again, "Yes? Oh. Thank you, come again." *Click.* Yeah, I can deal with people in person but over the phone people can be such assholes. They can hide behind the fact that I can't see them. My facial expressions tend to give away my thoughts. So, in person I can "inadvertently" give off the vibe that I don't give a damn what their complaint is but if they expect to get my help, they'll calm the fuck down. Anyway, my sister left and I returned to the shelter to put in some volunteer time.

When I got back to the shelter, I talked to the director and explained that I had experience fostering and that the shelter was completely different for me. I just wanted to help in whatever capacity that they had the most need. She told me that they were getting a lot more stay-at-moms and teenagers that were coming in to help walk the dogs and do things like that. She said that she needed help with reception. So, that's where I'm going to come in now. I will start by answering phones and then completing adoptions. Handling paperwork and educating the public. It should be quite interesting. Really, it's not exactly what I want to be doing. I like to work with animals but at the same time the goal is the same. I want to find matches for dogs and their people. The goal is to reduce the amount of pets dying in pounds and increase public awareness. Mutts (and the random "purebreds") need love too. I sat there for a few hours chatting with the staff learning bits about how the business is run. I did some organizing of files. Nothing too exciting. I am supposed to go in and work for a few hours on Monday and Tuesday. Since I work remotely, work doesn't care where I am physically located. So I'll work and answer phones and greet customers.

Nora is also going to start going to nursing homes and hanging out with the old people. These nursing homes just require good behavior and since Nora is not certified she can participate. It'll be nice to bring some smiles to the faces of some that are sometimes so neglected.

But ultimately, I think this will be good for me. It'll be nice to help and hopefully feel like I am making a difference for to these furry friends and their potential new families.

cut.

2008-02-28T00:21:00.003-05:00

I just got a haircut today. It was quite difficult for me. I haven't gotten my haircut by a professional in over 15 years. Maybe that's why my hair takes forever to grow. But a professional once cut my hair so short that I looked like a damn Q-tip. Not cool. It was a very crappy middle school time.

I let this woman cut (not trim) my hair today. I wanted my hair just trimmed but she did some serious cutting. I don't really know how I feel about it quite yet. I do know that if she hadn't been talking and distracting my mind the whole time, I would have broken down in tears. I hate seeing my hair cut because I love it long. And there's so many other women with long hair out there and I don't understand why mine doesn't grow like that. Apparently, I'm supposed to get it cut on a regular basis. Doesn't cutting it seem to contradict the goal of it getting longer? Ugh. I understand though. The healthier it is the longer it grows. This sucks that I have to go through this though. The short-ish phase to get to the longer hair. I used to always tell myself that I wanted my hair to be long when I get married. Now, the longer I live the less likely I think it is that anyone would actually marry me. So, I'm going for "I just want my hair to be longer!" Whenever it happens.

Sorry. It's a bit of an emotional thing for me. I love having people play with my hair but what's there to play with if my hair's so damn short! Okay, it's not that short. Still....

hilarious video.

2008-02-27T18:04:00.001-05:00

thank you, friends.

2008-02-26T21:26:00.006-05:00

“A true friend is someone who thinks your a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked." ~ Bernard Meltzer

"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." ~Albert Schweitzer

I just want to thank my friends out there. Although I can feel very alone here where I am away from friends, you all are still there for me. Still good friends. I appreciate the late night phone calls just to check and make sure I'm okay. I appreciate the emails with uplifting words. I appreciate the gestures of kindness. I appreciate the AIM conversations--just listening to me rant. I appreciate the fact that I still have my friends even though I am a "little cracked."

It's been a difficult time for me recently. I've been through a lot of emotions. Days of feeling utterly alone and lost. Days of wondering what I'm doing with my life. Days of rehashing the past and then realizing that it doesn't matter. Days of feeling hurt by others' cruelty. Days of deep depression wondering how I'm going to pull myself out this time. But it is through the love and encouragement of my friends that I do. I'm over it right now. I'm doing much better. I'm thinking positively and figuring out where my next destination is. I'm happy for the future. I have no idea what it holds--maybe law school, maybe not--but I'm ready to move forward.

I probably don't say it enough but I love you all. You are all important to me and I hold your friendships dear to my heart. Remember, as you have been there for me, I am here for you. Call, email, text anytime.

Thank you, thank you for being there for me.

Thank you for those who rekindle my inner spirit. You are loved.

....the right person will still think the sun shines out your ass.

2008-02-23T18:54:00.002-05:00

I watched the movie "Juno" today. I wasn't all enlightened or anything like the rave reviews seem to indicate that I should be. It reminded me why I love the thought of adoption. The basic storyline is that a teenage girl gets pregnant and decides to give the child up for adoption. The movie follows her life during the months that she's pregnant.

Two things, I wish that I had a father like the father in the quote. I know that it's all hollywood and bullshit but he seems like a great guy. Good fatherly advice from a loving, insightful dad.

Secondly, the only reason I'm even writing this in my blog is because of the one piece of this quote: "the right person will still think the sun shines out your ass." It made me smile when I heard this phrase in the movie. But somehow, I think it's pretty accurate. The right person will love you for all of your little eccentricities.

I stole this from imdb.com :

Juno MacGuff: I'm losing my faith in humanity.
Mac MacGuff: Think you can narrow it down for me?
Juno MacGuff: I guess I wonder sometimes if people ever stay together for good.
Mac MacGuff: You mean like couples?
Juno MacGuff: Yeah, like people in love.
Mac MacGuff: Are you having boy troubles? I gotta be honest; I don't much approve of dating in your condition, 'cause well... that's kind of messed up.
Juno MacGuff: Dad, no!
Mac MacGuff: Well, it's kind of skanky. Isn't that what you girls call it? Skanky? Skeevy?
Juno MacGuff: Please stop now.
Mac MacGuff: [persisting] Tore up from the floor up?
Juno MacGuff: Dad, it's not about that. I just need to know if it's possible for two people to stay happy together forever, or at least for a few years.
Mac MacGuff: It's not easy, that's for sure. Now, I may not have the best track record in the world, but I have been with your stepmother for 10 years now and I'm proud to say that we're very happy.
[Juno nods]
Mac MacGuff: In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person will still think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with.
Juno MacGuff: I sort of already have.
Mac MacGuff: Well, of course! You're old D-A-D! You know I'll always be there to love and support you no matter what kind of pickle you're in... Obviously
[nods to her belly]
Juno MacGuff: I need to go out somewhere just for a little while. I don't have any homework and I swear I'll be back by ten.
Mac MacGuff: You were talking about me right?

Now, just where is the "right person"?

time's are a-changin'

2008-02-23T14:26:00.002-05:00

I've told people before that you can never go back to how it was before. I still believe that but it recently just slapped me in the face.
Relationships with people are funny things. Their live changes or your life changes and the whole relationship is affected and altered. Sometimes, I'm just not ready for those changes. It's hard to be so important to someone for a while and then become an afterthought. It's tough to realize that while their lives are moving on, you feel completely and utterly stagnant. It's not easy to think about being replaced. Not easy to think that since you aren't that important person to someone anymore, they'll surely replace you. Or to know that they are in the process of replacing you. Just when you hoped that'd never be the case or at least that you'd never know about it. It's sad to lose a close friend and have to take the trade for a friend who calls "when they're not busy." You miss that friend who would drop everything for you to be by your side. To hold you and just listen to you. To laugh with and talk to. But I guess that time's are always a-changin'. People come and people go. Sometimes you just long for what used to be knowing that it's not likely to happen again.

Sometimes, I just feel so alone. No friends. No confidantes. No loves. I miss the companionship. I miss the moments of feeling valued and needed.

I need to find a way out of this rut but I have no idea how.

the heart remembers, cont'd. poetry.

2008-02-20T13:13:00.004-05:00

Once again, I'm not a poet. This is just an attempt at poetry but moreso an outlet. It's also not how I'd typically write this.

the heart remembers.
you were barely breathing.
chipped tooth.
you couldn't speak.
the sirens to the hospital.
the "it's not looking good"
headed back home.
the heart remembers.

the heart remembers.
the hateful remarks.
the blatant cold shoulder.
treating me like this was my fault.
the incessant calling.
always being there when I couldn't be.
pretending you were so innocent,
to win his heart again.
the heart remembers.

the heart remembers.
the tears you cried.
the frustration.
the memory loss.
the proposal.
saying that I was the one.
the heart remembers.

the heart remembers.
the anger.
forgetting that I'd stayed at your side
the hurtful comments.
the tears I cried.
you forgetting it ever happened
the heart remembers.

the heart remembers.
surprising you
wearing that lacy black top
you were excited to see me
and not so sober
i just wanted to hold you
to take care of you
to love you
the heart remembers.

the heart remembers.
tickling and laughing.
acting sophisticated
the test:
which wine is this?
cab or shiraz? hmm...
playing wii
good laughs, good times.
the heart remembers.

the heart remembers.
the fights.
the you don't do
that or this enough
the frustration
the cruelty
maybe it wasn't love
the heart remembers.

the heart remembers.
the good-byes
if it's meant to be,
it's meant to be
you changed my life
in ways you may never know
I loved you openly
with all my heart
maybe that's why
it hurts so bad.
the heart remembers.

worst day.

2008-02-20T00:38:00.002-05:00

Today has been the worst day that I can remember in months. It definitely takes the cake for 2008 and probably the better part of 2007.

My heart aches like I can't even explain. It's been a while since I've been hurt so deeply by someone who said that they cared about me. Do explain how someone who says they care can be so, so intentionally hurtful? It's unbelievable that they can be so oblivious to the fact that putting someone else in a better light and acting like I should thank them for being such a kind soul and not fucking me over--will not ever make me appreciate that person. Because someone could have done something worse than what they did, doesn't mean that I should give them a high-five for holding back. I'm not just going to start handing out thank-yous and letters of appreciation because they did not do something awful. They were disrespectful and did plenty of other things. I do not have to respect or be friends with someone like that.

I just can't believe that he wants to delve all of this old shit up. Bring it back into the forefront and make me participate just so he can get off on upsetting me.

I'm so tired of crying. I've cried all day and all evening. I'll probably cry myself to sleep. I have such a headache from crying. The pain in my heart is so much deeper and so incredibly hurtful.

I can't even explain the heartache. Most of it is because he does not acknowledge all that I did for him and cares to take her actions in such high value. Like they were the most respectable things when it's merely common sense. Anyone with any sense of self-respect would have done the same thing. Even children know right from wrong. But he wants to praise her for her acts and discount everything else she did because she didn't do the worst thing that she could have done. How ridiculous does that sound? As long as it's just bad and not the worst thing ever, then it's okay, and even admirable, in his book. Craziness.

I can't keep crying like this. I can't. I am beside myself with anguish and a sense of betrayal. But alas, it's probably all in my head. After all, nothing I say or do is of any value to him. He acts like he's so much better than me. Like I'm losing my mind and completely inaccurate. Amazing.

rejection.

2008-02-19T17:45:00.003-05:00

Rejection blows.

I just got my first rejection letter from one of the law schools I applied to for the fall. I'm pretty sure that it won't be the last. Just another blow to a crappy day.

Maybe I need to figure out what else I should be doing with my life. I'm going to work on coming up with a plan B so that when I don't get into any of the law schools, I don't feel devastated and without direction.

Plan B, where the fuck are you?

another moment.

2008-02-18T22:02:00.002-05:00

I had another moment today where I felt physically ill from overwhelming emotions. I was reflecting upon the past. Past events, past frustrations, past pain. It was a little more intense than I expected.

I felt faint this time. I wanted to sleep. I felt like I was having a hot flash. I was just so angry over the past events all over again. I wanted the emotion to be fleeting. My eyes teared up. I wished that it had all ended differently. Then I was sad. Sad about all the hurt that pervaded. Sad that I lost a friend. Sad that someone I cared about had become so distant. Sad that I felt that I'd never be able to get it back. Sad that maybe that's how it's supposed to be.

So then, I did all that I knew to do. I slept. Tried sleeping it all away. Unfortunately, I awoke.

Addendum to "the accident"

2008-02-17T22:46:00.004-05:00

I feel like I should convey that I do not regret "the accident." It is unfortunate that I have a scar that I'm still slightly embarrassed about on my knee--I'm working on getting over that--but the whole thing was a hell of an experience.

In the end, I was glad that I was in one piece and even happier that "Hugh" was alive and getting better. I was happy to be there to take care of him. He was all that I thought about during the day. I was worried about everything--that he'd forget to eat or that he'd get out of bed and try to go somewhere or just not get out of bed at all. I wanted to be there for him. And I was there everyday for weeks. He doesn't remember much of that. I'd hold him and tell him that his memory was going to get better and that it just took time. I loved him for the overly sweet things that he said to me during that time. They were definitely contrasted by the mean things that spilled out when he was upset. He wouldn't remember that I'd been there earlier and would be upset with me cause he thought that I'd just left him--when that wasn't the case at all. And later, he'd have no idea that he'd been so mean so it was hard to be upset with him for that but not easy to forget. I wondered if I was seeing a side that was normally suppressed. Was it something that I was learning that I needed to know? Probably not, now that I think about it. Head trauma does fucked up things. You say and think things that you normally wouldn't. Some people's personalities change more permanently. Hugh was lucky. It was just a few weeks of missing memory and severe mood swings. He made it through and was grateful to be alive.

But I just wanted to say, that I didn't mean to sound angry or bitter--if I did--in the telling of "the accident." I'm not angry or bitter. I was glad to be were I was at the time. It was what I wanted to be doing. Yeah, physical therapy sucked and it probably made me a little bitter at the time because I seemed to be healing slower than Hugh. Lucky for him, the brain healed itself pretty quickly in his situation. Within weeks, the bruises in the brain were gone. I still couldn't bend my knee without pain. That was tough. But I believe, maybe naively, that things all happen for a reason. It has convinced me that I never ever need to rent a scooter in a foreign country again (or just never let the man drive, I haven't decide which). It makes my stomach turn when I see scooters. When I was recently in Mexico, I wanted to stop scooter renters and tell them that they should be very careful and if they were smart, they wouldn't rent one at all. But I didn't. It'd just seem like a crazy lady was trying to ruin their vacation so I kept my mouth shut. But I digress.

I have no regrets. Life throws some interesting experiences at us. We learn how to deal with them and we move on. I was there for Hugh when he needed me. I wanted to be there.

No bitterness. No regret.

a story to tell..."the accident"

2008-01-28T20:42:00.000-05:00

I have a story to tell. It's one that I've put off for a while because some thought that it was better to suppress it and move on. It is not better to suppress it. It's better to assess and deal with it.

This story is simply referred to as "the accident." The accident happened in July. It is an event that tainted the rest of the year. Somehow, I ended up agreeing to go on a cruise with a man about whom I knew very little. I had just recently met him. We'll call him Hugh. It's not his real name but it allows me to claim that the story is fictional. We'd hung out a few times. He was funny and charismatic. He loved to laugh and had a positive outlook on life. He was very emotional and had just recently come out of a relationship. He was ready to play the field--or so he thought. I definitely wasn't looking for anything serious.

His girlfriend and he had broken up a couple of months before the cruise. Now, he had an available ticket. The reason for the cruise was that a couple of Hugh's friends from college where getting married. The wedding was on the ship while the ship was in dock. Each invitee had the option of attending the wedding and debarking before the cruise left or they could attend the cruise for the 4 days. Hugh had opted to go on the cruise. After all, he'd never been out of the country. The Bahamas sounded like a decent destination to start off with.

I told him early on that we would either get along very well or we would have an extremely volatile relationship. Our first fight was just a few weeks in to hanging out. It was over the cruise. I was hesitant about going on a cruise for many reasons. One, I didn't know Hugh all that well. Two, the thought of being on a massive ship with a bunch of people and not being able to get off was petrifying. Hugh was not happy that I was so hesitant. He immediately got upset. Much more upset than I expected. The situation was resolved by me saying that I would go on the cruise.

The day finally came. We got on the ship and attended the wedding. It was very nice and small. The reception had great food. The first night on the boat was pretty good. We had dinner with all the other wedding party. The ship swayed gently side-to-side. I was taking Dramamine, just in case. The thought of puking for a few days straight wasn't all that appealing. We went and hung out a couple of the bars on the boat. Hugh did karaoke. The crowd loved him. He was quite the entertainer singing 'Brown Eyed Girl'. We went dancing and had a good time trying to balance and dance at the same time. We woke up the next morning to a still ship. We were docked in Freeport. We got off the boat to do some sight-seeing.

The island was beautiful. The water was a clear greenish blue color. We saw mopeds for rent at the dock and decided that it would be fun to have one of those to ride around the island. In hindsight, this thought was ridiculous. Riding around on a moped on an island that we are unfamiliar with and we have to drive on the left side of the road. When we got to the rental place, they had me sign all the paperwork and off we went. I ran over the grassy area as we started off. We laughed and I got the hang of it and off we went. I drove us to the shopping area. We got there and were proud that we made it there safely.

Some of Hugh's friends were at the shopping center. We met up with them and walked around. We slipped into a hotel pool to cool down a bit. It was a good time. We left early to head back to the ship because we knew we needed some time to get back to the port. I asked Hugh if he wanted to drive us back. I second-thought that offer but then I thought that he deserved to have a chance to drive. We got halfway back to the port and it happened.

It's all very blurry really. I remember telling him to slow down. The curve was pretty sharp. He was in the far left lane (the slow lane) and slowly coasted into the right lane. I'm still yelling for him to slow down. He doesn't. We keep drifting and hit the curb. We both are airborne. I hit the ground and it knocked the breath out of me. I'd flown further than he had. I get up and go towards him. The traffic has come to a halt on the streets. Both of use had landed in the median. I went over to him and was pissed. Then I see him, just laying there. His eyes were closed and his mouth had blood in it. He'd chipped his front tooth. I wanted to shake him. I keep pushing on his shoulders until a woman came and grabbed me and told me not to move him. She was a nurse from the U.S. He had landed next to a tree. I wasn't sure if he'd hit it but his face was all scratched up. The nurse asked me how bad my knee was. It was only then that I realized that my knee was bleeding pretty badly. I took a towel and wrapped it around my knee. I was awake. I wasn't concerned with me. I had Hugh who wasn't awake. The nurse asks him what his name is and he tells her his last name. By now, the ambulance has arrived. The police follow soon afterwards. The ambulance stabilizes his neck and gets him into the bus. The policeman asks me questions and I can't think straight. The cop interrogates me as the EMT is putting alcohol and peroxide on my knee. I'm cursing at this point. My knee is gnarly and hurts as the EMT is trying to clean it. The cop assumes that I'm cursing at him although I'm obviously clutching my leg and crying. I have to limp over to the officer and apologize. He writes down the police report wrong--which I only find out a few weeks afterwards. I get in the ambulance and ride to the hospital.

At the hospital, I try desperately to contact the cruise ship to tell them about the accident. They finally find a member of the wedding party and tell them. At this point, I have no idea if Hugh is going to wake up. The CAT scan and MRI reveal something--but there's no neurologist, much less a neurosurgeon if there is a real problem. The doctor tells me that he's not sure what's wrong. I decide to go back to the ship to gather our stuff. It doesn't look like we are going to be back on the boat in the next 24 hours.

I get to the ship and Hugh's best friend is giving me lists of people to contact: Hugh's parents, etc. I unable to walk at this point. My knee is throbbing and I've just gotten the minimal treatment by the ambulance. I hadn't been seen at all at the hospital. I'm in a wheelchair on the cruise ship. I get to the room and the bride and groom and some others help me pack. I have to pack quickly. It was 7pm and the boat was supposed to be pulling out of the dock at that time. I was holding up the whole ship. As I'm getting off the boat with all the suitcases, Hugh's best friend (we'll call him Tom) continues giving me instructions. He can see that I'm totally overwhelmed and scared. At the last minute, he gets off the boat with me.

We go back to the hospital and Tom starts contacting Hugh's parents and others. He calls to find out if Hugh has insurance. We can't find an insurance card in his wallet. I wait for hours to be seen by a doctor. I finally get in and the doctor puts a stitch in my knee and cleans up the wound. It was quite painful. I tell him that I don't need pain meds cause I have to be coherent for this whole ordeal. At 10pm, Hugh is still out. Well, in and out. At certain points he wakes up and yells at the nurses. "Take this shit out of my fucking arms! Take it out!" It's heartbreaking and difficult to watch. They keep kicking me out of the room. About an hour later, I beg for pain meds for my knee. The doctor gives me a shot in the butt. I have to say-- I prefer pills. By midnight or so, the decision has been made that Hugh needs to be life flighted back to the U.S.A. The doctor's assessment was that there was bleeding in the brain. Although, this diagnosis later proved to be inaccurate, we had no choice but to go back to the States to get better health care.

Tom and I debate on who should go back with Hugh. The airplane can only take the patient and one guest. Tom says that since I'm hurt, I should go. The ambulance shows up at the hospital to transport us to the airport. The airplane is waiting. They get him into the plane and tears stream down my face. It's 2am and I'm exhausted. I sleep a bit until we land in an airport to go through customs. I have to take my passport and Hugh's birth certificate through customs and immigration. They gave me a talk for Hugh not having a passport but it was a indisputable point with Hugh semi-conscious and it being the middle of the night.

We finally got back home around 6am and were immediately taken in an ambulance to the local trauma 1 hospital. I had to meet his parents for the first time at the hospital emergency room with their son semi-conscious. What a hell of a way to meet the parents. Hugh was still not awake. He was re-examined. The neurologist said that he had two bruises in his brain. Frontal lobe. He finally woke up that evening. He even recognized me. He fell back asleep soon afterwards. He was in the hospital for about 4 days. Everyday, I tested his memory. It was spotty. He could barely remember 2 hours before. After a while, he got frustrated with the fact that he couldn't remember. The best part was that I could tell him the same stories or jokes time after time and it was all new to him every time. A captive audience. He got progressively better. He had lots of visitors. I had to wake him up by pushing on his sternum. They let him out of the hospital and he spent the next week living at his parents' home. From day to day, his memory got better.

I was in physical therapy by now. I was walking with a cane initially. Soon, I took to the limping without a cane. The pain was present everyday. I had some pain meds from the hospital at home where I was re-examined. I could barely bend my knee at all. I had to keep it straight sitting at my desk at work. It took about 5 months for me to be able to bend it like I could my other knee. Still, it gets sore and stiff every once and a while. There are days that I wake up with it super stiff. I feel like an old lady who can tell the weather depending my knee soreness. It's moderately amusing.

There were lots of ups and downs after the accident. Hugh needed more reassurance than before. I'd taken care of him every single day since the accident. I finally spent one evening alone and he forgets that I was there the whole week. The next day at work, I have to get him to call his father to come take care of him. Hugh just went off the deep end. It's common in head injuries but not something that I commonly have to deal with. He was readmitted to the hospital following a psych evaluation. He got out of the hospital after a few days. Things looked up from there. And there the fighting ensued.

He'd said some horrible things to me during the time that he doesn't remember. He had intense times of being very angry. I cried way too often. By the time he started feeling better, I needed a break from it all. I couldn't be a constant caretaker anymore. I needed a breather. It'd been two months. Hugh didn't understand that. He wanted me to try harder on our relationship. But he'd had no idea how much I'd done in the past two months. After all, he had no memory of it.

The downward spiral continued. He wanted to "get back to how it was before 'the accident'". I told him that it was not possible to do that. You can't just erase experiences that you've had and revert to a previous existence. We seemed to disagree more often than not. He kept in all of his thoughts and emotions though and I only heard what he really thought when he already was angry. I don't receive being yelled at well when the same thing could have been communicated more effectively however many weeks ago that it was that it occurred to him. He'd complain that I wasn't caring enough. That I wasn't like I was before 'the accident'. And he was right, I wasn't.

Ultimately, my initial assessment was right. We would get along well--like we did in the beginning--or we'd be extremely volatile. Post-accident was volatile. But that's the story of the accident. One hell of a story with one hell of a scar that reminds me of it everyday.

disrespectful people.

2008-01-27T17:47:00.000-05:00

It kills me that some people feel so justified in being assholes. The worst kind of a relationship is one without mutual respect. What's worse is when you fail to realize that the other party doesn't respect you until you're in too deep.

So here I am, crawling out. Walking away because I deserve respect.

Dog Walking.

2008-01-26T15:44:00.000-05:00

Today was my first day to volunteer at the local animal shelter. There's a wealthy woman who recently passed away and left a large sum of money in her will for an animal shelter. The animal shelter was opened years ago but the money from the will has allowed the organization to get a better facility. The facility cost millions of dollars but has provided a great animal shelter for the community.

I volunteered there to interact with the dogs. Since I no longer work with the rescue back home, I thought volunteering at the local shelter would be the next best thing. I have since learned that fostering and working in a shelter are two very different things. The manager of the shelter had called me and told me that they were very interested in my desire to train. I wanted to do basic training with the dogs at the shelter so that they knew the basics: sit, heel, stay, lay down, etc. After all, I'd taught most of my fosters some basic training. I arrived at the center excited about the prospect of training. They wanted me to be a dog walker. This means I take out the dogs and walk them around. Play with them and give them some people interaction time. Three hours later, I left deflated.

I started with the most difficult case. I can't remember her name right now so I'll call her Lola. Lola was a small frightened little Australian Shepherd-looking dog. She cowered towards the back of her cage as I open the gate to take her out. I slowly approach talking quietly amidst the barking of all of the other dogs jealous of her attention. Her legs are shaking uncontrollably. She's absolutely petrified. The barking just resounds in the concrete room. I get the slip leash on Lola and attempt to lead her out. She resists and sits. The barking continues. I realize that we are going to get no where in the commotion so I lean over and scooped her up rushing out of the room. Outside, I attempt to walk Lola. She resists. So, I sit down next to her petting her and talking quietly. Her legs finally stop shaking. I think we are getting some where so I get up to see if she will walk with me. She starts shaking again and resists. It's not going to be that easy. So I give in. Maybe I'm not going to get to walk her today. Today is for just petting. I put her away and get another dog. This time a bigger breed. This dog actually walks on the leash with me. She has just been treated for heartworms so she has to be kept calm or she could go into cardiac arrest. We walk. I ask her to sit. It took a couple of times but she was beginning to understand the concept. Then the next dog and the next.

Few of them liked the kibble with which I was attempting to teach "sit." Few of them achieved actually sitting. Some of them had no desire to please-- which would have made it easier to train. I was facing a much different situation than I had imagined. I also realized that I might have 10 minutes a week with these dogs if I kept up the same schedule. I'd only be there on Saturdays and I'd have to work with as many dogs as possible during the 3+ hours I'm here. There was no way that I was going to see the same kind of results that I had with my fosters who lived with me 24 hours a day. And it was likely that some of the dogs would be adopted from week to week. Adoption is ultimately good but not so great if I only see the dog once a week. It bummed me out a bit.

Still, I think I'll go back and volunteer again. Every little bit helps. Getting them out and interacting. Being around the shy, fearful dogs. Teaching them to trust again. It helps.

quotes from another time.

2008-01-26T08:59:00.000-05:00

Love is strong yet delicate.
It can be broken.
To truly love is to understand this.
To be in love is to respect this.

- Stephen Packer -

Love is a decision not an emotion or feeling,
that if made from the heart will outlast anything...

- Raul and Samantha Juarez -

The thing about falling in love,
is that if you do it right,
you never have to hit the ground.

- Kendall Lepitzki -

rocking the boat. still.

2008-01-22T02:22:00.000-05:00

I can't sleep right now.

I just got off of a 4-day cruise. And I guess I don't have my land-legs back yet. Then again, I guess I never really found my sea legs either. The waves were rough on the last day of the cruise. We had a "day at sea" returning from Cozumel. That day was a day of hell. The seas were beating up the ship. The waves were 12+ feet. The ship was literally rocking back and forth. It wasn't a gentle rock--not a soothing type of thing at all. Everyone walked side to side-- or stumbled, rather. I felt like I was drunk when I woke up at 8am on Sunday morning. The winds had shifted during the night and the boat rocking was well upon us.

My mother was a speaker at a conference on the ship. Her second talk was Sunday morning at 9:30am. I woke to the sound of her puking at 8am. I had to fight the rocking boat and go find the event coordinator to tell her that-- unless she wanted my mother periodically puking through her speech--she would have to cancel my mother's talk. Kindly, she canceled the talk. I stumbled to the cafeteria to get some bread for my sickly mother. I felt drunk the whole time I was walking. It was a relief to be back in the room and sitting on my bed where at least I didn't trip over myself each time the ship tipped. I swayed with the boat sitting in my bed. I finally got up in the afternoon to go watch football at one of the bars. Somehow, people were still drinking while the waves abused the sides of the ship and my insides. Mother never made it out of bed until Monday morning when we debarked.

Saturday was great (we spent most of the day shopping in Cozumel) except for that part were I got a horrible migraine. It was one of those that came on slowly but knocked me on my ass when it hit me full on. My migraine kept me in bed all evening Saturday. Good times.

But here I sit, after I'm off the damn boat, still not feeling so well. I keep feeling like I'm on the boat. Like the "boat" is still rocking. I lie in bed and feel like the world is violently rocking. I sit in a chair and feel like I'm on the verge of falling off if the "boat" tips too far to one side.

If I never go on a cruise ship again, it will be too soon. Well, unless there's a shit-ton of cash (with no taxes) involved.

officially the last.

2008-01-05T02:35:00.000-05:00

It's nice to be back in the city where I grew up. It's nice to get to see some familiar faces and catch up with people who I haven't seen in years.

I met up with a friend of mine from high school tonight. We were close friends. There was a group of five, and sometimes a sixth, of us who always hung out. We went to each other's houses. We had lunch together everyday. We were a tight knit group.

The first of the five of us got married right out of high school. The second one got married just a year ago. A third just got engaged this past year and I just found out tonight that the fourth plans to be engaged in a matter of months. And that leaves the fifth. The lonely fifth. Me.

And the thing is that I don't think that it really bothers me but it induces some kind of response in me that made me think about blogging about it on the drive home. Maybe it's just something to blog about. Or maybe, just maybe, I might be wondering if I am too cynical. That in itself is scary for I don't really think that I'm ridiculously cynical. Definitely more cynical than most but not over the top. Or so I thought. The other thing is that it's not like I'm even in a healthy enough relationship that I would even consider marriage. Then again, I guess you have to have a relationship to start with before you can deduce how healthy it is.

I'm not jealous though. It just reminds me of the time that I have "wasted" in my life. I spent three--almost four--years in a job that didn't make me happy. I spent those same years not going back to school to do something different. On the other hand, I don't regret that time spent. I got to meet some great people and have some experiences that I would not have otherwise.

Still, it's bittersweet to be the last. I encourage myself and tell myself that I am pursuing my dreams. That I am looking for my place in the world and that it's not until I find my niche that I can even think about a partner. A partner? What the hell am I thinking? I don't need anyone. Obviously, all of my past relationships have worked out swimmingly and since I seem to be the common denominator between them all.... must be me.

It is a little bit depressing though that I can't seem to sustain a relationship. There's probably many factors to that--namely, fear. Fear of that commitment and fear of making the wrong decision. I never want to feel like I'm settling. I want to be swept off my feet but it's ridiculous to even hope for such a thing. And I've never wanted marriage. It feels like everyone falls into the mold though. You grow up. You go to school. You get a job. You get married. You procreate. You raise them. You retire. I just don't know how appealing that mold is to me. I am a cynic and a skeptic of such things. I think that I'm okay with this. But it's like in any non-competitive sport-- last is still last and it still blows to be last.

And happy new year.

2008-01-03T19:09:00.000-05:00

It's a new year and it's been too damn long since I last wrote. I say that mostly because I've wanted to write and I've had thoughts to write about and just haven't. So, I'm breaking that silly little habit and sitting down for a bit to write.

Well, I am back to my hometown now. Dad had his surgery and is getting around really well for just a couple of weeks after surgery. He was over using the walker in the first week. I think a walker must be more damaging to the ego. He did the two cane thing for a bit but now is down to one cane. He's definitely doing well. He probably enjoyed being catered to in the beginning-- I'd get up in the morning and make him breakfast. Eggs and toast only because, as a vegetarian, I don't even know how to cook bacon. Tant pis for him. Anywoo, I think he didn't like being cooped up and unable to drive himself around. Now, he just uses my car since I work all day--remotely for the same company that I've worked for the past 3.5 years.

He's doing well though so I have the itch to travel. I think I might take some time to go visit friends. After all, working remotely doesn't mean that I have to stay in the same place. :)

With the new year, I started thinking about all the experiences of last year. I'm not really one of those "oh my god, I need to make new year's resolutions and do everything different this year to make things better" kind of people. I only reflected on last year at all because I know someone who really thinks that the new year is a marker for change. For me, the dates and years all seem arbitrary to me. It doesn't really change anything. The new year is just another day like yesterday and the day before. And most of these people who make these crazy "New Year resolutions" forget to resolve to keep whatever resolutions they make. So, really, how much of a difference does the new year make?

My 2007 was full of all kinds of decisions and experiences. It started off alright. Another year in the same job with the thoughts of going back to school but no actions to back up that pursuit. Dating and breaking up then dating and breaking up. Marking the year with my knee injury and picking up the pieces to get through the rest of the year. I made the huge decision to move home for a bit at the end of the year. Overall, it wasn't a bad year at all. I made it through the ups and downs and came out of it all with learned experiences and all kinds of stories to tell.

Cheers to the new year and its ups and downs--just like every other year.

up and down.

2007-11-29T16:52:00.001-05:00

It's been a very intense past month for me. It's the past month that I have been debating about moving back to be with my family. It's a scary thought. I feel torn when really I'm not. My family is my family and they will always be the most important thing to me. Still, it's hard to walk away from a life that you've created for the past three years. I'm going to miss being here. I just wish that others understood that even though I am damn stubborn and try not to show how stressed out I am by this whole process, I am struggling. It's not easy to just walk away. It's not easy to quit your job and move on to something else unknown. It's not easy to leave the friends that you know and love.

I've been very emotional since yesterday. I put my notice in yesterday. Today one of my old bosses came and gave me a hug to tell me that he would miss me. I just teared up. It's not easy to leave. I don't know that I am making the right decision. I don't know anything though. I just feel that I should take care of my dad and go home. I know that my family needs me. They have done plenty for me in the past. It's only right for me to go home to be there for them.

So all of you out there, who are sad and upset with me for leaving. Don't think that it's easy on me. I'm the one who has to follow through with the insanity of moving and being back home with my family. I don't know that I'm ready for it. I do know that I'm willing to go through the motions until I discover that I should doing something else.

I will miss you all here. Hopefully, I'll get more of a chance to do the things that I hold dear to my heart...spending time with my family, riding horses through pastures of grass, enjoying the freedom of living in the country.

sleep escapes me

2007-11-05T18:25:00.001-05:00

I have been staying up way to late recently. Going to bed around 2am or crashing on the couch at some point during the night. It probably has something to do with the fact that I keep sleeping during the day. It's hard to think of moving after 3 and a half years. It's tough when everywhere you drive by, you wonder if it will be the last time. So many memories in so many places. I'm sad to go but feel that it is the right decision for now.

I still have dreams and aspirations and I have halted my pursuit of those while living here. Moving is just a motivator. I have to get up and do something that I love to do. It's time to go back to school. It's time to reach out and make a difference in this world instead of sitting in this hell hole of a cube and hoping that the little things matter to someone, somewhere.

I know now that this work is not what I am cut out for. My ass is literally sore and numb from sitting in a cubicle all day long. Hunched over a laptop when I'd rather be doing almost anything else. My window of opportunity has revealed itself. It's time to pick up and move on. Knowing in my head that moving on is a good decision and knowing that in my heart are two different--very different-- things right now. I love the independence and freedom of my current lifestyle. I dread losing that. But I need to kick start my next step in this life. And, here, sitting in my cubicle, I am going nowhere. I must be off. Off on an adventure that will shape the rest of my life.

Little Nora

2007-11-05T18:04:00.000-05:00

feeling abased

2007-11-01T16:18:00.001-05:00

That's probably not the perfect word that I was looking for as an enlightening title but it works for now. I didn't want to say feeling "down" because it doesn't really convey the right idea. I'm not down per se. More so, mellow and withdrawn. I'm not sure those are the words I want either. Ugh.

I feel like the time for change is now. So many things fall into place and make it seem appropriately timed. But there are still the drawbacks. I still have friends and people I care about here in this city. I still enjoy their company and know that I will miss it when I make sweeping changes--like my state of residence. I'll miss the "big" city feel and the beach. I'll miss the individuals that have impacted my life.

It makes me want to be alone in a time that I should be spending time with those that I still have near me right now. Really, I'd rather just stay in bed. Warm under my covers and dream about the days to come.

the time has come

2007-10-30T14:34:00.001-05:00

It seems that now (or rather the next month) is the perfect time for me to leave the city where I live right now. I've been doing what I do for 1.5 years now. That's about 1.4 years longer than I wanted to be doing this. I have lived in this city for 3.5 years after telling myself I'd only be here for a year. Bah. I got caught in the trap of being gainfully employed and appreciating the cash flow. I got used to the lifestyle of doing as I pleased and not having to worry too much about money or friends. Now, the majority of my friends have left and moved to bigger and better cities. Now, it's my turn.

I'm looking to law school now and thinking that I can spend some time between now and next fall doing some things I enjoy. My father is having hip replacement surgery at the end of the year. I will spend sometime taking care of him. Then I'm going to think about heading out West for a while to see some friends that I miss dearly and haven't seen in way too long.

The timeline is short. Mere weeks. If I don't move now, I won't do so anytime soon. It's time to move on. Time to pack my bags and hit the road. Back on the road where I started on years ago. Time to go pursue my dreams.

flea prevention meds for dogs

2007-09-24T14:58:00.001-05:00

So, I have had my little Nora for a year and a half now. She's a toy poodle and a small one-- only 6 lbs. I love her to pieces. She is my heart. I treat her like she's a child. She's quite spoiled and I love spoiling her. She loves to curl up next to me and sleep. She follows me everywhere I go and jumps up into my arms when she's afraid. She is the best kind of therapy there is.

Still, there are times that I sit back and think about the amount of money that I have spent on her in the past year. First, there was the purchase price. I paid $400 for Nora. I bought her from a breeder, a supposedly experienced and good breeder. I will never buy from a breeder again. Not only did Nora prove to have preventable genetic issues, but my mother had also purchased a poodle from the same "reputable" breeder and her dog also has genetic health issues. This breeder is inept and not qualified to being breeding dogs. They apparently do not to ANY genetic testing to verify the health of the dogs that they breed. Ignorant people are near intolerable when they should know better.

I got all of the initial shots that puppies get. I got Nora spayed at 5.5 months old. I probably dumped about $400 bucks into those couple of things. At 8 months, she was being scheduled for knee surgery. She had a luxating patella-- a genetically inherited health problem that could have been bred out. Her knee cap had popped out of place and did not go back into place. While we waited for the next available surgery, Nora limped around on 3 legs for three weeks or so. I had made my place completely conducive to her condition. My mattress sat directly on the floor so that she could crawl on and off it without having to jump. The couch was turned facing the wall so that she did not try to jump up or down. I lived "on the floor" for 9 weeks or so. Nora had her surgery and could not put pressure on her knee or do much movement at all for 3-4 weeks. While I was away, I crated her. When I was home, I carried her so that she didn't try to follow me around. She didn't like having to be held all the time but after paying $1,600 for the surgery (not including initial or follow-up appointments), I wasn't about to let her re-injure. She healed very well and quickly. I massaged her leg and did physical therapy with her every day to increase her movement and flexibility. I'd let her walk a bit to strengthen the leg. The surgeon was impressed with her healing and strength by the time we went in for the post-op 5-week check-up. Today, almost a year later, you wouldn't even be able to tell that she had surgery at all. She jumps and runs and plays like all the other dogs her age. She will have to take medication every day for the rest of her life to help out the bit of arthritis that has already developed in her knee. She will also, mostly likely, have to have surgery on the other knee at some point. But we'll deal with that when we get there.

Most recently, my expenses have suffered from the ongoing search to find a flea prevention medication for Nora. Living in a warmer climate and the recent rains have increased the flea population. I hate fleas. I think they are gross little terrors and I'm not sure that they have any purpose at all besides being a menace. I first tried Advantage which I didn't think worked at all. Then I tried Frontline Plus. I felt like it worked but that it wore off decently quickly. I have more recently tried K-9 Advantix (which cannot be used around cats-- some ingredients are toxic to cats). K-9 Advantix seems to work most of the time. Still, it seems to wear off after two weeks. Since the pesticides and poisons in the flea meds are the expensive part, I decided to look into more natural ways of warding off the horrible insects. I found Sentry Natural Defense. It is a mixture of various natural oils that seem to be quite effective. Natural Defense trades the moderately offensive smell of chemicals in other flea meds for the more abrasive, strong perfume of natural oils. I applied Natural Defense to Nora and seemed to have no problems with this product. She does smell very potent for the first couple of days after application. The biggest bonus to Natural Defense was the fact that it was a third of the price of all the other products I tried. I was hooked. Still, I wanted to try one last product before I committed to the stench of Natural Defense. So, I ordered Sentry Pro XFC. Again, this medication was a fraction of the price of other flea meds. After looking at this chart, Sentry Pro XFC seemed like the best choice.

Feature comparison	Frontline	Frontline Plus	K-9 Advantix	Bio-Spot	Advantage	Sentry Pro
Contains Insect Growth Regulator	No	Yes	No	Yes	No	Yes
Kills Adult Fleas	Yes	Yes	Yes	Yes	Yes	Yes
Repels Adult Fleas	No	No	No	Yes	Yes	Yes
Kills Flea Eggs and Larvae	No	Yes	No	Yes	No	Yes
Kills & Repels Deer Ticks (Carriers of Lyme Disease)	Yes	Yes	Yes	Yes	No	Yes
Kills & Repels Brown Dog Ticks	Yes	Yes	Yes	Yes	No	Yes
Kills & Repels American Dog Ticks	Yes	Yes	Yes	Yes	No	Yes
Kills & Repels Mosquitoes (Carriers of Heartworm, West Nile Virus)	No	No	Yes	Yes	No	Yes
Application	Topical	Topical	Topical	Topical	Topical	Topical
Dosage	Monthly	Monthly	Monthly	Monthly	Monthly	Monthly
Minimum Age	10 weeks+	8 weeks+	7 weeks+	12 weeks+	7 weeks+	12 weeks+
Active Indredient	Fipronil	Fipronil & Methoprene IGR	Imidacloprid & Permethrin	Permethrin & Nylar IGR	Imidacloprid	Permethrin & pyriproxyfen

I started to do a little bit of research and wondered, how is it possible that one company (Sentry) sells the chemically filled flea meds at a fraction of the price from other companies? Luckily, my curiosity allowed me to stumble upon this site. There were many comments about stories of owners who had put SentryPro XFC on their dogs in hopes of discovering a cheaper alternative, only to end up having to rush their dogs to the vet or bath them vigorously trying to get the medication off their bodies. SentryPro XFC has many adverse reactions to many dogs--especially to smaller breeds, like my little Nora. Read the link to find out more of the symptoms. I will NOT being putting this product on my dog. I will either go back to Natural Defense or just deal with the cost of one of the more expensive but safer alternatives.

Between the toys, the surgeries, the vet bills, the premium food (Timberwolf Organics- Lamb and Apples), the treats, the heartworm preventative and the flea meds I have probably spent close to (if not more than) $4,000 on Nora in the past year and a half. Really, I have no complaints. After all, money can't buy love. And I love my little Nora and she loves me-- no matter what the cost.

in the end...

2007-09-17T13:32:00.001-05:00

I went to a memorial service for one of my best friend's grandfather today. It was a sad experience because funerals and the likes are always sad. After all, it's a mixture of celebrating their life and mourning their death. The spirits were mostly uplifting at this ceremony though. His three granddaughters got up and read their pieces about their grandfather. They all talked about how he loved to crack jokes and make people laugh. They talked about how he loved his family and treated them as his treasures--the most valuable things in his life. His wife of 56 years had passed away ten years previously--that was the only thing that wavered his positive outlook on life. Still, even in the past few years, he made it his job to make people smile.

I feel like I know the man just from sitting at his memorial service. Really, I'd only met him once. Still, it got me thinking. I'm a cynic. I've been a cynic for most of my adult life. I've had too many experiences that have resulted in my skepticism. People cannot be inherently good or else they would behave differently. But, is it possible that I just focus too much on the negative and forget to relish the more uplifting and positive individuals? After all, there are a limited amount of criminals and the likes that we condemn for their behavior. There is a greater population of "non-criminals" in this world. Still, this does not disapprove that people are not inherently good.

It does amaze me that there are people in the world that are genuinely friendly to everyone they meet. It's not that I am particularly unfriendly but I see no reason to even allow someone the opportunity to take advantage of you. Yet, it's nice to hear about the life of someone with impeccable character. Someone who doesn't hesitate to take the time to walk up to a stranger and strike up a conversation in the hopes of generating a smile. I admire those kinds of people.

In the end, it would be nice to be remembered for being that person who had a great demeanor and positive outlook on life. Even though I may never be that person, it's nice to take time to appreciate those people and to be reminded that-- though people cannot be inherently good--there are some people who just are.

Ginger ale....

2007-09-13T15:02:00.001-05:00

and Crown Royale are a beautiful thing.

Cheers to all my whiskey drinkers out there.

it's already september

2007-09-12T15:31:00.001-05:00

For some reason, I feel like this year has flown by. Maybe it's because I have a routine now.

I get up. I take the dogs out. I untangle myself from the leashes. I shower and get ready for my day. I drive to work and remember how much I hate traffic. I work--more recently it's been a very painful experience. I go home for lunch. I let out the dogs. I drive back to work and somehow survive the next few hours. I go home from work. I let the dogs out. I watch Will & Grace. And at some point, if there's nothing planned for the evening, I go to bed late and restart the wonderful cycle.

Lately, things have been different though. I have an itch for a change. I need to move on. I need to get out of this state. I need to figure out what I am doing with my life and I'm pretty damn sure that it's not Information Technology. So, I'm planning on law school. Of course, that would involve me actually completing an application. Ugh.

After all, all of my friends are leaving this state. Apparently, the time is now for departure from the monotony. But I've tried to have a little fun and do something a little different. That all ended well, resulting in my knee injury. Lesson learned: Never let the man drive. Now, my knee injury is my biggest frustration. I have to go to physical therapy to regain mobility. It's an emotionally exhausting process.

And now, this weekend, my foster dog is getting adopted. He's going to live with a family that I hope will do very well with him. Buster, the dog, has seizures and has to get daily medication. He's a very happy dog and very sweet. He and my little Nora love to play together. I'm going to miss him. Nora's going to miss him. It's so sad to see Nora sad.

I'm here for the paycheck.

2007-08-28T14:50:00.001-05:00

It is official. I despise my job. Or rather, I passionately despise a select few individuals who I have to work with. It's bad when it gets to the point that you'd rather spend the entire day plotting painful deaths or just intolerable experiences that will make those individuals wish that they were dead. Really, I don't wish death upon anyone. It's just extremely, extremely frustrating to deal with some personalities who will fuck you over without thinking twice. No conscience. Just getting off on pissing people off. Maybe everyone should be so heartless and unhelpful. And no one is willing to stand up to these individuals. They are allowed to get away with all the things that anyone else would get fired for doing.

Yet, I'm still here. I'm here for the paycheck. I'm here to pay the rent and the light bill. The excitement and willingness to learn is gone. Anyone want to find me a job?

lessons learned.

2007-08-09T15:20:00.001-05:00

It's intriguing to me that people stay in relationships after they have identified what it is that they do not like and are not willing to tolerate in a relationship. Most people give quite a bit of thought to the relationships that they find themselves in. People think about what would be a "deal breaker" for them. They learn about their partners "deal breakers" and other eccentricities. Then there's everything else. You learn about personality differences and how one reacts to different situations. You learn about what your partner does or says that sets you off and what you do or say that can set them off. Some of these traits and behaviors take little time to discover. Others come to light over time.

What amazes me is that someone will date someone for years and learn about many of those things that they don't like and then they will finally end a flailing relationship to find something better. Or at least, hopefully, something more in tuned with the traits and behaviors desired. So let's say that Janet breaks up with her boyfriend of 4 years, Henry. Over the years, Janet learned many things about Henry. They lived together for most of their relationship and it didn't seem like there was much more that she could learn about him. She already knew that it unnerved her that he'd shave and not clean up the sink afterwards. She'd get out of the shower every morning just to rinse the sink while she brushed her teeth. Now, she would no longer have to do that. It was a great thing.

There were lots of things about her relationship with Henry that she had learned that she wasn't all that happy with. She knew that he liked to have sex with his socks on. For her, it was just weird. Sweaty socks just aren't attractive as far as Janet was concerned. She also knew that they argued about the dumbest things. They argued often and with a crazy kind of intensity. Henry and Janet fought passionately-- after all, both parties were damn sure that they were right. Janet also knew that she never quite trusted Henry. Their relationship started off as an affair. She told herself that she'd never get involved with a married man again.

Then she met Evan. Evan was good-looking, charming and suave. He knew the right things to say to perk and keep a woman's interest. Janet thought he was great. They went on a couple of wonderful first dates. It wasn't until his phone wouldn't stop ringing that she discovered that he was married. Well, in the middle of a divorce, but married nonetheless. "In the middle of a divorce" was forgiveable though. Her "never get involved with a married man" theory flew out the door with impressive speed. After all, he was obviously ready to be back in the dating scene again. They'd been dating for a month when they had their first fight. He wanted to stay out at the bar longer and she was ready to call it a night. The fight ended with him ordering another Crown and 7 and her storming out of the bar. The whole ride home she was frustrated with the fact that they'd had their first argument and that it was a dumb one at that. She was soon to discover that it was the first of many arguments to follow. It was like she was dating Henry all over again.

What she failed to notice was that it wasn't just Evan. She was treating Evan like he was Henry. She initiated many of the arguments and was oblivious to her habit of doing so. Janet had forgotten that when she got back out on the dating scene that she couldn't expect every man to be like Henry. She couldn't automatically behave the same way that she did with Henry. She was now generating and perpetuating the issues that she'd had with Henry, with Evan.

It amazes me how many people do not realize this type of predicament. When you start a new relationship, it is a new, potentially flourishing thing. You cannot go into the relationship with the same chips on your shoulder and presumptions that were gathered from the past relationships. OR else you will taint the new relationship. It may not be a guaranteed failure. But it is guaranteed that you are not making it as simple as it could be. Relationships aren't simple to begin with but dragging all of your old issues and drama into a relationship are not beneficial. We have past relationships that we can learn from, but you can learn from a relationship and keep all of those lessons in the back of your mind without dragging every piece of it into a developing relationship.

After all, they are supposed to be lessons learned. Not lessons that tarnish every future relationship.

The Ex-Factor. A Short.

2007-08-02T17:18:00.001-05:00

It was the way he smiled at me. It was feeling his breath on my cheek. It was the softness of the kisses touching my skin. It was the devotion in his eyes. The way he put his arm around my waist and squeezed to remind me that he was there for me. To support me. To love me. To care for me.

It was intriguing though. Our life had been thrown into fast forward. Our passions preceded the creation of our foundation. Now, we had a foundation but a rocky one at that. I had already told him but I was pretty sure there was at least a marginal chance that he'd leave me. He'd just up and disappear one day. Go right back to his ex where-- even if he wasn't happy-- the gig was easier. Less responsibility. After all, I was sick almost everyday now. He wouldn't choose to take care of some sick broad over having no responsibilities and plenty of fun. Or so I let myself believe.

But it had been one of those days. One of the days that his ex called multiple times throughout the day. He'd pull the vibrating phone out of his pocket and confidently hit the silencing button as though to show that he didn't really want to talk to her anyhow. I knew that the second he was away he'd pick up the phone and call her back. After all, he was a nice guy. Even though, that also meant that sometimes, he was too nice. Sometimes though.

It was a balancing act for me. He was a nice guy. Courteous, sweet and charming. That was how I became attracted to him in the first place. Then he had those moments where he'd tell me not to be mean to him-- or tell me not to do any other assortment of things. What he forgets is that I am not some trainable dog who will comply to all commands. He'd tell me that I have no reason to be mean to him. Even though, 2 minutes before, I'd listed off my reasons and concerns. Maybe he was right. Maybe in his mind, no one should ever be mean to him. All of the rest of us were just supposed to take whatever he dished out without complaint or objection. Mustn't wake the bear.

I felt like it was a constant pendulum swing. One moment we were swinging upward to the left, having a wonderful dinner overlooking the water and making others jealous of our relationship. Then the highest point was hit and the pendulum was back on the downwards drop. Of course, these moments were mostly my fault because I had sat too long thinking about her phone calls and surprise visits when she knew I wouldn't be around. I'd get upset and he'd tell me that he loved me that that I had no reason to be upset. And all I could think was "If you loved me, then you would make things different. If you loved me then you wouldn't need both of us in your life. And you would make sacrifices for me, like actually making a clean break from a girl you 'broke up' with."

Maybe I'm wrong though. Maybe they just say that relationships are about sacrifice. Maybe relationships are really about how much bullshit you are willing to put up with from that certain person. But on the days that I wasn't consumed by such thoughts, I knew that I cared about him. I knew that I wanted him in my life. It was the self-preservationist in me who questioned it all. And now... well, now, the situation had changed. A little bun in the oven. It always changes everything. I wished that I'd figured out all the answers to the questions in my head. I wanted to be the best for my little one. Still, I felt so confused. What was I doing? Were my imaginings that I'd had all my life correct? Was I supposed to just be alone? I wouldn't just be alone now but I knew we'd find happiness.

I gripped my stomach as Ellen's theme show screamed from the television.

Another prayer to the porcelain god.

Relationship advice

2007-07-30T12:28:00.001-05:00

I was once told some of the best relationship advice that I have yet to abide by-- "Never go to sleep angry."

You'd think that some people should probably sleep on it and wake up with a clearer head. Then maybe you would just get some rest and not say all of the awful things that come to mind when one is angry. Really though, if possible, it's probably healthier to solve whatever issues before going to sleep so that you can wake up with a clean slate. But for those who can be hot-headed at times, it doesn't always seem to be a good idea to force the issue. For myself, I know my "breaking point." I know when it is just mere minutes before I say something that I will most likely regret. My ability to recognize this point seems to be a curse and a blessing. It's good that I know when I should probably shut up. But it just irks me so much that I feel like I can't just speak my mind. I mean, I could. But the fact is that if I do, it may be mean. And most of the time, there's no real good reason to be mean. It's really just me lashing out because of the hurt or fear of hurt. I just want someone to understand that hurt or that fear, but being mean does not clarify that sentiment. So for me, it's best to not say anything that I may regret and just walk away and let my anger subside.

The worst part is that I also know that walking away is not the best thing for all parties involved. When I walk away, I tend to just deflate and get over it and then not mention it again--until the next time when all the old frustrations that were never discussed, evaluated or resolved flare back up with strange intensity. I used to be able to do all of this-- the frustration or anger, the deflating, the not talking about it-- without anyone being all the wiser. There were no explosions, no potential meanness. It was all suppressed. No one saw any kind of inner turmoil. Then I decided that course of action was unhealthy. I should allow myself to feel and process. After all, isn't that the mature thing to do? Deal with the issue at hand and not pretend that it's not there?

Never go to sleep angry. After all, what fun is that? Why suffer through the backs being turned to each other? The snoring that absolutely annoys you when normally you just fall asleep like it was a lullaby? If we all devoted a little more time to constructive communication, not only would we improve bedfellow relationships but also every other interaction would improve. So never go to sleep angry. How does one do that? Hell if I know. But it is a good mantra.

Never go to sleep angry.

Or just don't sleep.

Fear.

2007-05-28T16:48:00.000-05:00

I was sure he could see the fear in my eyes. I was sure that it just added to the thrill. I cowered under the table trying get away from him. He was faster than me and stronger than me. He grabbed my by my hair and drug me from under the table. I felt a blow to the side. He was wearing his steel-toed boots. There was no way that he didn't fracture a rib. I covered my face and curled up in the fetal position. I knew I couldn't defend myself. I just needed to try and make it through it all-- and to make it out alive. He yelled at me to get up. He grabbed my arm and jerked me up. He pinned me against the wall. Holding my body up so that I couldn't even double over as he punched me in the stomach. "Bitch" was the last thing that I heard before I blacked out.

I woke up on the floor. Blood in various pools around my body. Somehow, I knew I deserved it. I'd moved his tools while re-painting the garage. Something that he specifically asked me not to do. I picked myself up off the floor. The room was spinning. My head was pounding. I dragged myself into the bathroom and climbed into the tub. I turned the knob until the water was scalding hot. It was my distraction from the pain. I peeled my clothes off as I soaked in the tub. I just hoped that he was passed out somewhere or out again.I wanted to be better for him. I wanted him to know that I was trying to be better. Still, I knew, somewhere deep down that it would just keep happening. It had gotten worse recently. He told me hate me. I just wanted it to all go away. I slid down in the tub, letting my head drop under the water. I didn't want to lift my head again but my body wouldn't let me go that easily. I sat up, gasping for air. Cleaning off the blood, I got out of the bathtub. I glanced at myself in the mirror. It was going to be days before I could leave the house again. Bruises covered my thighs and torso. My lip was busted and my eye was bloodshot from a blow to the head. It'd probably be a black eye within hours.

Wrapping myself in a terry cloth robe, I began the search for him. I found him on the bedroom floor. My heart raced. It wasn't the first time that I'd come upon his passed out body and momentarily pictured his neck broken and a lifeless body. I hated those thoughts. Bending over him, I checked to make sure he was breathing. He was the meanest man I'd ever met but he told me that he loved me. And he did.

I went to the kitchen to clean up the blood and broken beer bottles. The cast iron skillet sat on the counter with pieces of glass in it. My mind flashed back to his body, wishing that I could return to the bedroom, skillet in hand and smash his head in until my arms ached. I could never do that though. Once the kitchen was clean, I sat down on the couch taking a cigarette out of my purse. Nicotine was somehow calming. I lit it and took a drag. Really, it was just another day. He'd be a different man when he woke up. We'd cuddle and watch Sleeping with the Enemy.

Memorial Day.

2007-05-28T16:28:00.000-05:00

Today was a very boring Memorial Day for me. I haven't done anything productive except maybe this post--but that's debatable.

I watched White Oleander. I think I've seen it before, or parts of it, because I remembered the plot generally but was still "surprised" by the storyline. White Oleander is one of those movies that someone should tell you what you are getting into before you watch it. There should be a section on the DVD cover or a note in the Info on cable tv. "You shouldn't watch this movie if you have mother issues." "You shouldn't watch this film if you are intolerant of children being harmed." "You shouldn't watch this film if you are prone to depression." The film is a depressing one. It's a strange coming of age story intertwined with a intense depiction mother/daughter issues. Why did I watch the film then? Because it was on tv and something to do. None of my friends are in town and I need to do laundry. What else is there to do?

Really, it was just one of those days that I didn't feel like getting out and exploring on my own. So here I am, writing on my blog for the first time in months.

One of those days. A Short.

2007-01-21T16:25:00.000-05:00

I hung my head in my head staring down at the ground. It had just been one of those days. I was so exhausted. Not physically. My body was fine. I was just emotionally drained. And talking about emotions was one of those things that I wasn't supposed to do. So I didn't. I didn't tell anyone. After all, who was there to tell. Even though I'd been dating her for 2 years, there were just some things that she didn't understand. Some things that I attempted to explain anecdotally. It just never worked. Maybe I was just an ineffective storyteller. I told stories to detach myself from them. I don't want the pity that people freely give when you tell the stories that I have to tell-- in first person. Telling such stories in first person pulls at peoples' heart strings or reminds them that they should be judgemental or at least helps them feel justified in their passing of judgement. So it's just easier to tell stories as though they are about someone else.

I took a sip of my beer and glanced across the street. I dropped my eyes and stared at my cigarette burning on the saucer. The saucer is my temporary ashtray since I don't smoke. I say I don't smoke because I only smoke on these days. Smoking is my extra vice that I can just throw in whenever needed. I picked up the cigarette and took a long drag. The taste of smoke always brings back memories. Memories of various things. Memories of being in a bar. Smoke filling the room. Karoake on stage. Everyone in the bar knew each other. They all did the same thing every night. This was part of their lives just like the pummeling of my mother was a daily routine for my father. Or rather, just like the pummeling of a mother is the daily routine of some fathers. Remember, I have no stories to tell. No reasons to feel like I do. No reason to have days like this. And still, I tell stories.

One good thing.

2007-01-21T16:19:00.000-05:00

I go home next week. I get to see my family. My sibilings. My parents. My friends. Time to relax. And Nora comes with me. I get some time to get away from it all--well, almost.

I'm ready for it. It will be great to have some down time. Well, almost down time.

Attempting to catch up

2007-01-20T22:30:00.000-05:00

It's been so long that I get random text messages about how I should update my blog. It's unfortunate now that I no longer have access at work. Now, I have to actually work all day. (Yes, I know there are plenty of other things that I could do but bitching about bathroom talkers and updating everyone about my life) And there's so much to tell really.

I am so tired right now. I'm not where I want to be in all aspects of my life. I don't think that I'll even expound upon that, it's not much worth it.

Oh, and yes, I have to give my shout out in response to the demanding text message I received. Yes, the blog hasn't been too exciting lately. And sure, you were a fabulous bf. Fabulous in that our relationship was perfectly dysfunctional. Together, not together. All types of good fun but isn't that what senior year is for... instability and fear of commitment? Or was that encouraged by all of the other parts of my life?

But on to better things.... my little Nora had her last appointment with the surgeon this past week. They did xrays and told me that everything looks awesome. She can now go back to normal behavior. She doesn't have to be told not to jump and not to run. She's perfect again and I don't have to yell at her and tell her to calm down. She can be herself again and I am so excited for her. She's a wonderful little girl who will always bring light into my life.

There is so much more to say. So much to catch up on. So much that I could just continue to write about so that hopefully figure out why the fuck I'm so out of it.

I need to go to New York City. Find out how the crazy people make it in this world.

2006-12-26T22:29:00.000-05:00

Christmas is such an interesting time of year. Everyone is scurrying about looking for that special thing to give or that gift that they just want for themselves. I had to go shopping this weekend--or rather I assisted someone else in their shopping. I myself prefer to get online, choose the perfect gift, pay for shipping, have it shipped to the person it is intended for and call it a day. It is MUCH easier that way. But alas, with mere hours left to shop people bustled into the malls filling it with obnoxious parents and their whining children momentarily muted with ice cream and chips. I don't like shopping to begin with but it becomes almost intolerable at Christmas time. There are too many people willing to pulverize anyone who dares to get between them and the "perfect gift." Everyone's looking for that thing that will make someone else happy. That will make them squeal with delight. That they appreciate even for just that moment. They say the Christmas season is all about giving (and the whole Christ was born story). But when you get back to work, or school, the first question people ask is, "What'd you get for Christmas?" So are we really concentrating on what we get or what we have given? How often does some ask, "What'd you give for Christmas?" Then there's the added pressure of giving enough. If you don't give enough, you might as well not give at all. Some people expect you to spend a certain amount on each individual. They look at it as a level playing field. Everyone speculates on how much things COST. Instead of giving cards, we should just write up a list of the things that it cost to get the gift that you gave. If you gave someone a PS3, for example, you write a long list of the things it cost you. You stood in line for days. You carried the box to your house. You bought wrapping paper for it. You took time off work to have enough time to wrap everything. That PS3 could have been a new puppy, or a short cruise, or paint to repaint the living room, or tickets to the theatre, or a flight to Vegas, or many other things. Some people assess your value of them by what you give them and how much it costs. Is Christmas really about giving at all?

2006-12-10T16:02:00.000-05:00

There are those days/weekends that it's just nice to be alone. To have one's own space undisturbed by human interaction. There are those times that one could wath movies upon movies. Just to sit and be alone. Sometimes I wish for the solitude. There is no fighting in solitude. No arguing. No conflict.

Conflict is exhausting. Emotionally draining. It makes me feel like I need a break from it all. A break from people. A break from the stress and strain of relationships. It is those kind of weekends that I do just that. I stay inside and appreciate solitude.

First few days.

2006-12-09T15:46:00.000-05:00

It's just the first few days of having Nora back home and it's been interesting. I leave her confined in the bathroom when I am at work. But when I am home I try to be attentive enough to keep her from running and jumping. She spends most of the time being held and sleeping. I have figured out though, that this is the time that she's going to become well disciplined. She is good now but now she has to obey because I am so worried about her. It's some fast-paced, intensive training.

The next few weeks are going to be devoted to her. Nothing else matters. She is my heart. She makes me happy and she's cheaper than therapy. :) I could spend all day hanging out with her, playing fetch and scratching her belly. She's a sweet dog. This surgery is nothing. If it makes her life better, then the cost is nothing. Some people don't understand the relationship between a person and their dog. She curls up next to me when she sleeps. She licks me awake to tell me she has to go outside.

She's back.

2006-12-06T22:28:00.000-05:00

I have Nora back at home now. She's alive and doing well. She's sleeping alot right now which is good. She needs time to heal. It's going to be another four weeks before she can even think about getting back to normal activity. No running. No jumping. Mind you, she's 9 months old and basically uncontrollable. But I will have to be a mean mommie for a few weeks. I'll make it. Right?

The big day.

2006-12-05T22:26:00.000-05:00

Today is the day. My little Nora is in surgery. But I should explain.

About 3 weeks ago, Nora jumped off the couch--like she's done many times--and went away limping. I thought that she'd just twisted her leg the wrong way and strained a muscle. I felt her leg and could feel anything broken. If it was a muscle thing, it'd no longer be sore in a few days. She gimped around for about 4 days and I decided she needed to see the vet. I took her to my vet in the neighborhood. I'd been going there since I had Nora. First, she offered to put Nora under anesthesia to do xrays. I told her that Nora was a good dog and pretty calm when it came to scary situations like the vet's office. They took xrays with her awake. They brought them in and the vet said that she couldn't tell if it was Nora's hip or her knee. She said that I should give it another week and come back. That was on a Wednesday afternoon.

Ok, so here, there's a couple of problems. First, putting an animal under anesthesia is always risky. Animals die under anethesia and I didn't think that this was an occasion that required anesthesia. Secondly, the xrays weren't very clear. One leg was straight, the other was bent. There was no way to make a comparasion between the two legs. To me, that just seemed not-so-helpful. Third. You can't tell the difference between the hip and the knee?! You can't see which one looks out of whack?! You can't FEEL which part is not in the right place?! Are you a vet? Are you kidding me?! And fourth. YOU WANT ME TO WAIT A WEEK? To what? Come back so you can tell me that it's worse? Are you crazy? Moron.

Still, I wait a couple of days. After all, maybe it will get better. Finally, on Friday I make an appointment at Timmy's vet. (Side note: Timmy has gone to his forever home. He's happy and I'm happy that he's happy. But that's another story.) I had taken Timmy to that vet a couple of times and they seemed to be very compassionate and took good care of him. I couldn't get into the vet until Monday. I grabbed the crap Xrays from the neighborhood vet and took them to Timmy's vet. Dr. S put Nora down on the table and felt her legs and immediately said that her hip was fine. She just felt it and knew. That's the kind of vet I need. She looked at the Xrays and said that they were undeveloped and that they chose bad views of the leg. (I knew it. Those *&%$#^! people.) So she did some more Xrays--never even mentioning any need to sedate little Nora. She came back with Xrays and put them up on the viewer. With these Xrays, even I could tell that it was definitely her knee. One leg was basically a straight line down the femur and tibia. The other leg had a strange out-of-place thing at the knee. Dr. S explained that Nora's patella was luxated. It was a medial patellar luxation. Basically, her kneecap had slid out of place and was now on the inside of her leg. It probably popped back into place sometimes but it hurts to walk on. But it wasn't going to pop back in place and stay there by itself. She needed surgery. Knee surgery. Still, Dr. S wanted a second opinion so she sends all the Xrays to a radiologist just to make sure that that's all that's wrong. She said that her growth plate could also be busted but she wanted to have a professional eye diagnose that part.

She called me the next day and tells me that it looks like everything else is ok but yes, the patella is out of place and needs surgery. She scheduled and appointment with the local board certified surgeon. He couldn't get me in until the following week. I kept Nora on pain meds and a sedative during that time. We met with the consultant vet--which I found out was not the actual board certified surgeon. I basically insulted him at the point asking if he was in training under the surgeon. He said that he was a resident vet but still learning from the surgeon. He then preceded to explain that he'd been in internships and thought that he was doing really well then but came here and realized that maybe there were some things that he didn't do quite right. What he failed to do was think about what the hell he was saying. I mean, at this point he might as well be a babbling infant because that's how confident I was in his ability to sliced my puppy open and fix her leg. So, that didn't help me trust him at all. I left his company and talked to the women up front to make sure that he didn't have anything to do with my puppy and her surgery. Silly man.

It was still a week later and now, today is the day. She's in the surgeon's office. I took her little bed there, her sweater and a toy. All labeled with her name. She should be in surgery at some point today and they are supposed to call me when she gets out and she's awake. I've spent the entire day looking at the clock begging it to tick faster so that I can find out if my baby's ok. I cried when they took her away from me this morning. I don't know how I'm going to sleep tonight without her.

broken promises.

2006-11-05T15:36:00.000-05:00

"I just wish that I was a priority in your life," I said. My voice was sad but I was trying to hide how much it hurt me.

"You are a priority," he says. His voice was gentle with a feeble attempt to be comforting.

"If I was a priority, you wouldn't have all these excuses for why you don't come over, you don't hang out, you can barely stand to touch me." My voice trembled towards the end of my explanation. I was so tired of having the same damn conversation. I was so hurt and I just felt like he didn't care to change his behavior. He didn't care to show me that I meant something to him.

"Sam, I do hang out. I do touch you. What are you talking about?" he insured me.

I was exhausted. I was still fighting off the flu that I'd caught from him. Maybe from that one time he'd kissed me in the past two months. I felt like I was the parasite. I felt like he didn't exert any effort because he didn't really love me, because he didn't really care. I had been angry about it for so long--pushing him away like he did me. Now, I was tired of being angry. It took so much energy, which is exactly what I lacked. My anger had morphed to sadness and hurt. It must be me then. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I expect too much of him. Maybe he thinks I'm not worth the effort. He has to think that. If he didn't, he'd change. Right?

I looked into his eyes and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I casted my eyes downwards.

"Nothing. I've told you already. I've told you before. You tell me that I am important to you, that I am a priority. Then you go hang out with other people and tell me that you didn't have time for me because you were tired. You make time for everyone else. You make time for football. You make time to work late..." I couldn't say anymore.

There were moments. Moments like this that I was afraid that I was dating my father. He worked late for the bimbo that he could bend over whenever he wanted. I didn't understand why Alan didn't devote time to me. And it was moments like this that I wondered if he wanted to be somewhere else, with someone else. I just want him to break up with me if that's the case. I can't be on the periphery of his life for much longer. There has to be someone out there who will love me and show me that they do. There's has to be someone who wouldn't trade my company for football or golf or work. I understand that there are things outside of a relationship. There have to be activities outside of the relationship, but I also knew that there had to be a relationship to begin with. I didn't feel like I even had that anymore.

He treated me like he'd rather eat shit than hold my hand in public. He acted like he could care less about me when people were around then he wanted to sit next to me when we were alone. And of course, I thought up all kinds of craziness...maybe he's banging someone that we know or maybe he just wants to be. Still, I don't really believe such things. I have no reason not to believe them because he doesn't act like I am important to him. I am an afterthought to him. He says that he'll do something or be somewhere and all I get is the excuse the next day. I'm just so tired. I'm tired of the excuses. I'm tired of being treated like a forgotten toy. I might as well be alone for I feel so alone. So lonely. So tired. I don't ask too much. I just want to be thought of. I want to be valued at least as much as football. I want sincerity. I want Alan to care about me and to show it. Even though, he seems incapable of change. I'm still here. Still wondering why. Why he can't seem to show that he cares. Why he thinks I'm just going to sit here and be ignored while he lavishes every other thing and person in his life with attention and makes excuses about being to tired to do the same for me. Broken promises. And eventually, he'll break my heart and I'll give up and move on.

bathroom chatter.

2006-11-05T15:19:00.000-05:00

it is my understanding that men tend to enter the bathroom and stop all conversation.... that is, except for those men who continue to talk on their cell phone in the bathroom. But it's pretty much understood that there is no meaningless chatter in the bathroom. This is not true when it comes to women and it irks me.

So the other day, I go into the bathroom followed by a woman that I work with. She proceeds to ask me how I'm doing and about this project that I'm working on. I give short answers because I go into the bathroom to use it and leave, not to hang out and chat. So I thought that we had finished out conversation and I head to a stall. She follows suit but begins to talk to me. This makes me uncomfortable. And when I think about it, there have been plenty of times that I talk to my girlfriends while we are in the bathroom. We talk about random things or we are at a bar and the bathroom is the quietest place. For me, those conversations are an exception to the rule. I'm not super close with my coworkers and I do not feel that we need to talk about work in the bathroom. This is why our office has conference rooms and the bathroom doesn't qualify as conference room no. 4. At this point she's just chatting along and really I don't have to respond, so I don't. I want her to stop talking to me. During her chatting, she's peeing and enjoying her one-sided conversation. I can't pee for the life of me. She's in the stall next to me and she's talking. I guess I was pee-shy for those horribly long minutes of her yappage. I tried to block her out and pee--after all, that's why I went to the bathroom in the first place. But I can't. She shuts up for a minute and flushes the toilet. I hear the zipping up and am relieved that she's finally leaving. She walks out of the stall and goes to the sink to wash her hands. When she finishes, she tells me goodbye as though she had to acknowledge that we came in to the bathroom at the same time yet she's leaving before me--before I've even peed. I say nothing. I just want her to leave. Finally, she does and I hear the gentle bang of the door. I relax and pee. It was a relief to be alone and in peace.

As I'm washing my hands, I wonder why that was so uncomfortable. And frankly, I still have no idea. I just know that I'm down with the unspoken rule for men's bathrooms. I may have to post a no talking rule in the women's bathroom. Or maybe I'll just go to the men's bathroom from now on.

dreary day.

2006-10-18T13:08:00.000-05:00

Dreary days remind me of Ohio. They remind of the days that turned into weeks of gray skies and little hope for the sun to peek through. Those gray skies didn't indicate the shift from fall to winter. It would start snowing. The snow was beautiful though. It clung to the limbs of bare trees, stacking up as though it was afraid to fall all the way to the ground. I loved the snow. A white sheet rolled over the terrain. Then after a couple of days of people walking and driving on the snow, it is dirty and slushy. I don't miss the after-snowfall.

Dreary days make me pensive. Today, I reflect upon the past. Past relationships. Past friendships. Longing to re-live the best moments of them. Past experiences. Past interactions. Moments were I thought that it might just be one of the best moments of my life. Those times when I laughed so hard that I cried. Those times when the laughter of friends fills the room. I remember times when we would play games in college. Silly games. Drinking games. Games that required more wit than we could muster. I remember laughing each other's stories. Sometimes embarassing. Sometimes drunken mishaps. Other times it'd be those stupid things that we'd said in class thinking that we knew it all. Especially after waking up late and trying to compensate for our tardiness with our intelligence.

I miss some of those conversations. I miss walking into a room and knowing everyone and them knowing you. I don't miss all of those same people knowing who you made out with last weekend... some campuses were too small. But it's the people that you remember. It's the people that you think about when everyone has moved on and continued their lives. I wish I were closer in proximity to some of those people. It'd be great to be able to hug some of their necks. To hang out and crack jokes. To just have all of those friends nearby again. It'd be interesting to relive some of those relationships and to make different decisions in them. Where would we end up then? We would know who to be mean to because we knew that in the end, they just broke your heart. You would know who to try harder with because those are the relationships that you still think about fondly and wonder what could have been. There are those friendships that have fizzled over the years--whether you were separated by water or miles or differences.

it's that day again.

2006-10-16T10:25:00.000-05:00

It's Monday again. Mondays are horrible. They are the longest day of the week. Mondays are the hardest days to get out of bed after a long weekend of relaxation and no painful alarms going off to wake you up. Mondays merely mark the beginning of another week in the monotonous job. Mondays remind you that there were so mny other things that you could have or should have been doing this weekend other than sleeping in and laying back. I have to say, I'm not the hugest fan of Mondays.

And such.

2006-10-13T10:53:00.000-05:00

I just got to thinking that it is quite interesting when you start to recognize and analyze the things that erk you about other people. Those little things that they do that just get under your skin. Those times that they know exactly which button to push and they mash it in.

There are those people who do annoying things but are forgiveable. For example, someone who blinks more often than one usually blinks. It's not so much annoying as it is bothersome and distracting. But you can justify that it's not their fault. They blink too often and they probably always have. Yes, it's not the most calming thing but you can avoid the interaction and just deal when necessary.

Then there are those people who say things. They have phrases or words that they use on a consistent basis. Or they say things in a certain way, with a certain tone. And it makes you want to choke them. For example, little sisters or brothers that are in that "like" stage. They like always like use the word like because it's like so cool to say instead of like any other noun/verb/adverb like. That it's purely annoying. There are alos those people who exaggerate constantly. Everything is more extreme than it actually is. "Oh, my god! There were 400 thousand million people at the park today!" Right, 400 thousand million. Moron. And that's just an example of a simple non-important one.

Then, there's the more serious, more problematic ones... "You are always looking at other girl's asses! You never pay that much attention to me. Never ever! You're always so mean!" [Bawling. Exit stage right.] Now, that is definitely a pet peeve. There are few times that superlatives are needed, if at all. Some people are so dramatic. But I must say, yes, I do the same thing. I use superlatives, but I do not use them on a consistent, annoying, exaggerating, silly basis. I agree that superlatives should exist because they aid writers in painting a picture in dramatizing the story drawing in the audience with exaggerated storytelling. It's an effective method in writing, acting, etc--but not so great in everyday, non-dramatic conversations.

And another....when someone thinks that a "conversation" involves watching tv and not listening to what another person is saying and, most of all, not responding or contributing to the "conversation." I would rather someone just tell you to shut the hell up. When only one person is talking, that is called a monologue or a speech. There is NO conversation. Some people cannot comprehend this fact. It is amazing to me.

Maybe I am hypersensitive to peoples' behavior.... but I find it hard to believe that others would not have pet peeves, as such. We tend not to acknowledge them. Or we try to suppress them under the guise of accepting people as they are. Some how, there has to be a common ground. We should be sensitive to each others' pet peeves.

Ha. Like that's ever going to happen.

My readership.

2006-10-12T11:40:00.000-05:00

I think that the individuals that comprise my readership are quite interesting. Every once and a while, they leave comments. As of late, there's been a lull in comments but still, I know that people read my blog.

It's just such an interesting array of people... friends, family, exes, aquaintances and random people who somehow stumble onto my site. I regret telling some of those people that I even had a blog. But this is who I am and these are my thoughts, etc and I make no apologies for them. I 'm glad that some people have access to the site because it's a way for them to keep up with the changes in my life. This blog serves as a journal and a venting spot.... which I, perhaps, should retire that part. I write for many reasons. Most of the time, I don't write to my readership. I write about life. I write stories. I write about thoughts that I have. I write to get my frustrations out. I write to examine what I really think and feel. Because, after all, my writing can be honest. Even if I am not honest with myself or others, I can write freely. It's as though no one is reading my blog. I can write unapoligetically. There's no confrontation. There's no argument. It's just pure fact. Pure thoughts. Unabated. Innocent of any wrongdoing.

It is interesting to me the people that read my blog. Some act like they don't care anything about my life. And yet, they read my blog. If they didn't care, why read it? Some use my blog or the information therein, to start conversations. Some never mention it, thinking that they have the upper hand because they know more about what's going on in my life than I would tell them to their face.

But I must thank you all for reading. Thank you to those who care about me but remain silent. Thank you to those who take actual interest in my life. Thank you to those who comment and encourage. Thank you to those who read my blog and think I don't know.

Read on, readers. Read on.

Clouds

2006-10-11T09:51:00.000-05:00

I didn't think that I would actually say this and mean it.... but I love clouds. Typically, I yearn for the sunny days with the sun beating down on you as you walk along the beach. Now, since I have moved cubicles (aka prison cells) I've come to appreciate the cloudy days.

I used to have a window seat on the south side of the building. I have moved to the west side of the building. The mornings are nice --if not a little chilly. But the afternoons can be unbearable. Supposedly, these windows are tinted but I swear that somehow the sun just penetrates the lousy filter and beats down on me. There was one day that I felt like I got a taste of menopause. I was so hot all of a sudden that I began to freak out a bit. I felt like I'd never be cool again. Like the heat was choking the zest for life out of me.

Today is a mostly cloudy day. As the afternoon creeps in, I am thankful that today will not be an intolerably hot day.

Morning time.

2006-10-11T09:01:00.000-05:00

Morning time is the most painful part of the day for me. It takes a while to really get me motivated and in work mode. Typically, I spent nearly 50% of the morning fighting my exhaustion and very slowly getting work done. Around 11am or so, things start clicking. I'm not as tired. Or atleast I don't feel like I could pass out just as quickly sitting in my chair as I could laying on hot coals. It's quite amazing how tired I feel. Granted, it's all my fault. I'm the one who stays up until midnight or one or even later. Then I go to bed and sometimes the dogs wake me up during the night, disturbing my sleep. I just do not feel rested. Maybe I will go to bed early tonight so that I feel refreshed for tomorrow.... we'll see if that actually happens.

Somehow though, in my exhaustion, I'm still quite pensive. I think about life. I think about my life and what I could be doing with it. I think about my family and how I miss them. I have those fleeting moments that I think about moving back to that small town just to be near my family. It's a completely different world from this city. I like the city but it would be nice to be near my family and watch my siblings grow up. It's interesting how we are all expected to leave the nest after 18 years old or so, yet there's so much that we are missing. We are missing the changes in other family members lives. Still, leaving the nest doesn't have to consist of living hundreds of miles away. And once again, that was my decision.

What I don't understand though are those people who can just settle. The people who just settle for what they have. What's even worse are those people who keep telling themselves that one day they will get up off their ass and go somewhere and do something new. I know plenty of people in my hometown who have stayed there. They have stayed to help provide for their families. They have stayed because they are in their comfort zone and wouldn't know what to do if they topple out of it. Unlike, those that think they know what they would do if they toppled out of their comfort zone. But really, it's all speculation because it's not actually something that they have even tried. I need the adventure though. I need the variety. And what erks me the most are those haters--those people who tell you that you cannot have that. That life is not always full of excitement and change. And I agree. Life itself is not full of excitement. You have to create it. You have to perpetuate it. You have move above and beyond your comfort zone.

I guess, I just don't get it. I don't understand why someone would voluntarily settle for where they are instead of rocking the boat alittle and checking out what there is out there. Life is short. Shouldn't we try to cram all that we can in there?

the thorn.

2006-10-05T10:01:00.000-05:00

She is like a thorn in my side. She's not just a person, she's an affliction. A puss-filled infected suture that just oozes. Dripping puss and nastiness.

When I see her, I think of blonde, herpes-infested hookers. I just wonder what the intrigue was and why he's so unwilling to relinquish that relationship.

When I see her, I puke a little bit in my mouth. Mostly because of her hairy upper lip and general bimbo-ish characteristics. But he still cherishes her like his Saturday football tickets. Something that's invaluable and inseparatable from his body.

If I had my way, she'd go back to her country or just fall off the face of the earth. She gets under my skin and makes me want to cut her out like the thorn that she is.

Apparently, this is how it's going to be. And I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.

Ding dong....

2006-10-05T08:35:00.000-05:00

Ding dong. The witch is dead. La La La. The witch is dead.

Okay, she's not dead. She's just away. Out of my apartment. And for that, I am glad. I still woke up sneezing this morning but I will to do a super cleaning and hope to get all of the dander out of the place. Still, I did not watch up this morning to a whining dog. That was awesome. I got paid for dogsitting. For that, I am also grateful.

I am back to being a two dog gal and I am very happy about that. Three is too many. And to respond to my mother's comments, "I hope your learned your lesson." I did, Mom. I did.

26 hours or so....

2006-10-03T12:05:00.000-05:00

....until she gets picked up by her loving family who are probably more tolerant than I. Actually, I would have that dog trained. She would sit. She would not pee on my floors. She would poop outside. She wouldn't jump on the bed when I told her not to. She would get off the bed when I told her to. She would have poodle hair so I don't sneeze. Ugh.

One more day. One more day.

I also need to get Timmy adopted. The longer I have him the more I like him. And I don't want to like him cause then I'll cry when he leaves. Timmy cuddles up against me to sleep. He's a sweet dog. Although, sometimes he can be quite mean. Especially to the cockapoo. The only bad thing is when they fight, I really think that one of them is going to be seriously injured. Nora and Timmy have it all worked out. They play together hours at a time. Only playful growling and barking. They have it all worked out though. If Timmy gets tired of playing, he growls his non-playful growl and Nora leaves him alone. They have it worked out. But the cockapoo is stubborn or stupid... I'm leaning towards stupid. She still goes up and tries to play with Timmy even though he growls at her. It will be more peaceful when I just have my foster dog and Nora to deal with.

56 hours and counting.

2006-10-02T09:00:00.000-05:00

I calculated that it's about 56 hours or so until the idiot dog goes home. Granted, I've never been very good at math so it may not be 56 hours. I just hope that it's less and not more.

Last night was the best night so far. Apparently, I did a great job of tiring out the dogs this weekend. They slept all night last night... or at least, they didn't wake me up except for once. At about 2:30am I woke up to Nora barking ever so quietly. Timmy wakes up and starts to bark. I try to grab them both and calm them down because the last thing I need is for them to get the other dog all riled up. Finally, I realize that they hear her moving around in her crate and that's why they are barking. I close the bedroom door to block out the crate noises and we all go back to sleep. I wasn't awaken again until the alarm went off this morning. Even then, I didn't get up. But Nora knew that I was supposed to get up and get moving. She licked my face so that I would get out of bed. I could still use about 3 more hours of sleep.

I think I am going to do a massive cleaning today. The plan is that I take a benadryl before I start cleaning so that my allergies don't kill me in the process. Then, I try to get as much done as possible before the benadryl knocks me out. I just took a benadryl this morning because of the nasty doggieness and dander floating around my apartment. And now, I'm tired. Sleepy rather. I think I could pass out and sleep for those 4 hours that it takes for the meds to get out of my system. When's nap time?

This past weekend, I watched 1 and a half football games. That's probably more than I've watched in one weekend since football season began. I only watched a half of one game because I was at the bar to drink. Not at the bar to watch football. Yippee, the ref was making strange motions. Something about a small waist or power to the people. I was much more involved in football season last year. I know that really, I could care less but I think a part of my dislike for it has to do with my relationship. If it was a relaxing thing, then I might enjoy football. But it's not relaxing to hang out with someone who is going to throw his phone across the room, pouting like a 4 year old, when his team loses. It's a damn game. Some win. Some lose. It just gets on my last nerve sometimes. It's not like someone died. It's not like it's a life changing situation. It's on tv (or in the stadium since he has season tickets to both of his teams). It's not affecting one's life personally. I mean, yeah, it made not look so great for the team that lost but it's not like there's not going to be another game next week. More men slapping each other on the ass. More cupping the balls of the guy in front of you. More slamming into others. More fatties throwing their weight around. More injuries. More stupid men in the making because of all the concussions they have suffered and will suffer. It's a game. Not something to pout and cry about.

And yes, maybe I just don't get it. Maybe I just don't have the same value for the game. But I just think that there are things in life that are so much more important. So much more relevant than football. Alas, this reasoning creates a rift between myself and people who are emotionally committed to the game. It's hard to be ok with it when you come second to a game. Still, I have dogs. He can have his fun. He can cry about his team losing. He can throw whatever the hell he wants to throw across the room. But I will continue to wake up to a beautiful day every morning with my puppy licking my face. She is the light of my day.

the damn dog.

2006-10-01T17:38:00.000-05:00

I am so, so, so, so ready for this damn cockapoo dog to go home. Sophie has changed my life in a way that I do not particularly enjoy. My apartment never smelled like dog before and now, I walk in through the backdoor and I am immediately assaulted by that nasty dog smell because this dog sheds and reeks like dog. Nasty dog. Stupid dog. If stupid, idiot dog had a smell, she would fit the profile.

And here, I must clarify. I don't hate this dog. I just have no "like" feelings towards her. Not only is she stupid but I am also allergic to her. She does not have poodle hair, she has cocker spaniel fur, which I am allergic to. And for some reason, I did not think to ask about that beforehand. So now, not only do I sneeze because of her, I also don't get any sleep because of her. She whines more than any other dog I've known. Last night, I decided that I couldn't deal with her whining so I left her out of her crate. And that bitch, excuse my french, chewed the corner off my couch. The wood, that I never knew was there before, is now exposed. From now until Wednesday, I am just going to have to compromise my sleep for my sanity. Quite frankly, it pissed me off that she chewed my couch. I never had to deal with that with Nora. Nora was never big enough to get her mouth around the corner of the couch or anything else of significance. The only thing that would have been worse would be if this stupid dog chewed some of my shoes. I might just have to sacrifice her to the shoe gods. She might deserve being the sacrifical dog. Dogs should not chew shoes. Dogs that chew shoes should never, ever be bred. They will just produce more dogs that chew shoes and that, is unacceptable.

Sophie, the stupid, idiot four month old cockapoo, has been a royal pain in my ass. The only unfortunate thing is that I did not get a fixed payment for my pain. But I hope that my complaints, including the fact that she makes me sneeze and that I didn't get any sleep and the fact that she chewed and pissed and shat all over my apartment,will help me get more than 50 bucks. I've taken 50 bucks of allergy meds. I've used 50 bucks worth of paper towels and energy picking up her shit and piss. If she was a person, a man, I'd kick her ass right about now.

I need to say though that I am not going to hurt her or abuse her in anyway. I love dogs. It's just frustrating to have two mostly trained dogs (Nora, my sweet pup and Timmy, my foster dog) and then having to deal with an idiot dog that cannot control her bodily functions. I don't know if she's just never was trained or if she's just stupid. I think she's stupid just because. But I also think she's not near as trained as my Nora was at her age. I was very aware of Nora's behavior. She naturally had a great disposition but I taught her to be obedient. I taught her some tricks and may sure that she behaved well. Nora is just a smart dog.

I have concluded after this hellacious week, that I am a two dog maximum person. I can deal with two dogs but three is just too damn many. Especially when one of them is almost as smart as a hockey player that's been hit in the head one too many times.

Two dogs. Only dogs that have hair not fur. Only dogs that sleep at night not whine.

Wednesday cannot come soon enough. I might have to take off Thursday to celebrate her departure.

the email explaining my insanity

2006-09-28T09:59:00.000-05:00

I don't know if I mentioned the new and third dog that I now have in my apartment....I am watching a coworkers' dog for the week while he and his family are gone on vacation. I'd offered to do so before I got Timmy, the one-eyed wonder. So I should have told them that I shouldn't keep their dog now because I already had an extra. But...I felt bad and thought to myself, I love dogs and the dog is little, how hard can it be? Of course, I quickly learned that if I thought two was a handful, three's a boatload. And here's where I diagnosed my self-proclaimed insanity. Last night was quite the event, Nora and Timmy now get along fine. They play with each other and when Timmy is tired of playing, which doesn't happen often, he growls at Nora and she backs down. They'd got their thing figured out and he's a little bit bigger than her so it's ok. Now, the introduction of Sophie, the 4 month old (or so) cockapoo. Sophie is quite hyper and bigger than both Timmy and Nora. Not too much taller than Timmy but big enough that Nora's not a fan. But Sophie hasn't really caught on to that yet. The one good thing so far is that Nora has started to stand up for herself. Timmy and her just kind of came to an agreement to not really fight each other for anything... one of them just gives in. But Sophie decided that she wanted to play and Nora wanted to be no part of that. So she made the scariest face that I've ever seen on Nora.... nose all scrunched up, teeth bared, paws out and ready to fight. She looked mean. It was like the sweet, cute Nora was replaced. Sophie finally leaves her alone but just for a bit. I have to say, Sophie doesn't seem to be the brightest dog. She must be more cocker spaniel than poodle. Poor thing. Maybe it's just that I'm spoiled by Nora. We have conversations. She tells me if my shoes don't go with my outfit. She's my girl. She's just a smart little pup. And then there's Timmy who's ready to defend me at any second. He's a loyal dog. I can tell already. Even if he only has one eye. And he's smart. He listens even if he doesn't understand.

Then there's Sophie. She's only partially house trained.. i.e. she's pooped in the house twice already... I got her last night. Can a small dog really have that much poop? Did she know that she was going to someone else's house and just save it up? Goodness. AND she's not the smartest dog in the bunch.... maybe she lacked oxygen when she was first born.... pulled a Barbara and stopped breathing, maybe lost some brain cells then. Not to say that Barbara lost brain cells... But yeah, so I put this dog in her kennel when I leave this morning. I put her in my bedroom and the other two were loose in the dinning room/kitchen/bathroom area. They tend to be good about not messing in the house. So when I get home for lunch I take Nora and Timmy out and they do their business. I get back inside and the cockapoo has pooped all in her crate. It was a decent amount of poop too. I was mind-boggled and decently disgusted cause it smelled like poop and it was smeared and spread everywhere. I took her outside and she peed. I cleaned up her crate but I'm sure she's got poop on her.... probably all rubbed in. Nasty. So, I'm going to have to bathe her tonight. It's pure insanity right now.

I just thought I'd share. It might be amusing to print this off and share it with the family. Then you'll all know about my pain. Oh, and lack of sleep. I forgot to mention that when I wanted to go to bed last night, no one else did... so I didn't sleep long or well. It's only a week.... but a week is such a long time for no sleep..... ugh.

An extra day in the week.

2006-09-25T14:56:00.000-05:00

I just realized that today is Monday and not Tuesday. For some reason, I had in my head that today was Tuesday. And Tuesday would mean that it was that much closer to Friday. That much closer from my 48 hour separation from this computer and this cubicle. But alas, it's Monday.

Sometimes I get to thinking about my life. About the progress that i've made. About the changes in my world. About the differences between what was my reality then and what my reality is now.

Now, I work. Day in and day out. Then, I played and sometimes studied. Now, I have a puppy. (Who is still the sweetest and cutest puppy in the world) Then, I tried every means to avoid the sadness. Now, I sit and rest for fun. Then, I played rugby and searched for the next exciting thing that would almost, but never really, get me in trouble. I lived for the highs then. Now, the lows confront me. I wasn't looking for them but somehow they found me. After all, how can one be sad with all of this? I have a job. I can pay my bills and feed myself and my puppy. I have friends. I live near a beach. Still, I crave more. Not more, actually, just different. Something different.

And on a completely different note, I don't understand how puppies don't make some people happy. I have my new foster dog now. He's a poodle mix. He's a sweet dog. He's only got one eye. He was born without it. But I feel like since I've gotten the foster dog, my SO disapproves. The great thing is that he doesn't SAY anything. He just acts like they are the biggest pain in the ass. Not outrightly though. It's just a vibe I get. He wasn't supportive of me getting Nora. Why would he be supportive of me getting a foster dog? And most of my friends are convinced that I'm not going to be able to give the dog up. But I know the definition of foster. It's a non-permanent kind of thing. And really, I'm going to advertise the hell out of this little guy so that some kind soul adopts him and I can prove to everyone else that I can be a foster mom and deal with handing the dog over to the adoptive family.

I just don't appreciate people being judgemental and doubting my abilities. I can do whatever I set my mind to do. And I'm inactively supportive of his football and golf addictions. I deal with the 3-12 + hours of football or football and golf combos. He does his thing and I'm ok with that. I don't have a mindless addiction like football. I see no value in sitting for hours to watch a game. A game that affects the world in no way at all. It doesn't help starving children in Africa. It doesn't add value to peoples' lives. It doesn't put food on the table for the children. It doesn't have an emotional or mental attribute--unless, you are one who gets caught up in those sorts of things. And yes, maybe it's unfortunate or inconvienent for me to have a dog and sometimes dogs--plural. But to me, they are priceless. They are why I get out of bed every morning. They fill my world with happiness. They bounce and bark and play. They come and snuggle next to me. They fall asleep in the most awkward positions. I look forward to their pattering paws as I approach the backdoor of the apartment. Maybe, my love for dogs is silly to some. But they enrich lives. They actively enrich lives. They yawn and lick and give you that look that you would trade for the world. They love you unconditionally. All they want back is your attention and care. Whether it be unfortunate or inconvienent or both, I will have dogs in my life. They light up my world reminding me that it's not such a bad place after all.

How do non-dog lovers make it through the days?

Maniac Monday.

2006-09-18T09:10:00.000-05:00

For some reason, I think I've used that title before. It just comes to mind on Mondays.

This past weekend was good fun for me. I went and volunteered at a couple of volunteer events taking Nora to them as bait. Everyone would come up and say, "She's so cute. I can't believe no one has taken her yet!" To which I reply: "Actually, this is my baby. But here's Getty. He's up for adoption and he's a cool pup... a bit protective but he's fond of women. And here take a flyer." It worked like magic. "Awww... MOMMY! Look how cute that puppy is! Mommy, I want a puppy!" I wonder how many parents out there hate me. But, I would rather they adopt poodles that their children fall in love with rather than some puppy mill dog or pet store dog. We take care of the dogs that come in to our group. And there's no guarantee with internet pups, store bought pups or products of puppy mills. You have no idea if they are really healthy until you get them home. And you have no idea how many of their siblings died in transport and from all the communicable diseases. And now, I'll step off my rescued dogs' soap box. *steps down*

This week should be the big week though! I'm supposed to be getting a rescued poodle to foster this week. I've only heard about him and I haven't seen him yet. He's visiting the vet today to check out his health. He's a product of backyard breeders who just let their dogs copulate until babies pop out. They are typically not registered nor do they necessarily know what they are doing. These breeders tend to end up with semi-healthy and unhealthy babies. This pup was born with defects. He is about one year old now, which in itself is a miracle. Typically, backyard breeders kill off those with defects. After all, it's harder to make money off those pups. Still, this little guy has made it this long. Supposedly, he has short legs--shorter than normal and he has one eye. I was told that he was "born with one eye." I still don't really know what that means. I mean, I hope he's not hideous or maybe I'll have the next world's ugliest dog. I don't know if he just has an empty eye socket or if he's some cyclops looking dog. Who knows. But either way, I'm excited to get my first foster dog. Although, I am a little worried about Nora liking him. She's a sweet dog but she's always by my side. And she's become more protective of me. We'll see how it goes.

Migraine Friday.

2006-09-15T13:43:00.000-05:00

My head is pounding today. I have crazy pain on the left side of my head. It feels like there is a small person attempting to push my eyeball out of my head. Even the office light seems super bright today. And going outside in the sunlight is excruciating. I feel nauseous.

The good thing is that it's Friday and I'm going home to take pain medication.

Monday. Again.

2006-09-11T10:29:00.000-05:00

I feel so tired today. I'm not ready for this week. I'm not ready to be sitting back in this cubicle. I can't focus at all today. I keep trying to do work and I get distracted with my thoughts. It's just one of those days. One of those days that I'd rather be at home staring at the ceiling wondering about life. I'd rather be doing anything else than sitting at work. Looking out the window and watching the world pass me by.

I feel like I am in a daze. I didn't sleep well at all last night. I kept waking up. I was worried about Nora. I couldn't seem to get comfortable. I even thought about calling in sick to work this morning. My bed was so warm. The sun peeked through the blinds warming the room. I didn't want to get out of bed at all and especially not for work. I could go to sleep right now for the rest of the day.

But I will wake up tomorrow morning and go to work and survive the week all over again. This is my life--it doesn't really matter if I want to get out of bed or not.

New toys.

2006-09-01T13:37:00.000-05:00

I have discovered a couple of new toys/ accessories that Nora needs.

http://www.collectionsetc.com/Item76055.aspx

and http://www.collectionsetc.com/Item76062.aspx

I can't wait to invest in them.

Yes, my puppy is spoiled and I'm okay with that.

It's a Monday.

2006-08-28T16:10:00.000-05:00

It's a Monday that I catch myself daydreaming.... What did I think I would be doing at this point in my life? I thought that I would be in Africa doing sustainable development or some kind of non-profit work. My hair would always be braided. I would live without air conditioning and wake up every morning to the scents and sounds of Africa.

I would be out doing things everyday. Working with my hands and finally learning how to balance and carry things on my head. I would love the kindness and refreshing dispositions of the down to earth African people. I would eat beignets every Friday. I would know exactly which roads I should avoid during prayer time. I would eat a sandwich from the street vendor for lunch. I'd bask in the soul-warming sun.

Still, I dream of being anywhere but here. It's just one of those days that I wish I was following my dreams. I am no where near where I want to be. I don't want to be settling for this life and regret it all in a few years.

I just want to up and leave. I keep pricing tickets to... elsewhere. One day, I'll buy one and I'll be gone. Off to explore the world. Happy to get away from it all and live my dreams.