Common Sense

There area few moments during the course of your life that stop you in your tracks-that seemingly come from out of nowhere and shatter your whole system of beliefs. You remember these moments because they were either your innocence lost or shaped the new direction your life would now take.

I have just had one of those moments.

It is a commonly held belief that suicide is not the right thing to do. You will hear poeple talk about how "dumb" it is and some think it is only for the weak. Others hold that is the ultimate act of selfishness. On the tv show, Ghost Whisperer, a survivor tells a suicide ghost, "you hurt for only two minutes, we're hurting for the rest of our lives."

We are all hypocrites.

How many times has someone denounced suicide while smoking a cigarette? Who talks about smokers while eating Big Macs? Who says how foolish it is to neglect your health but hasn't been to a doctor in year? And who says they no longer need this medication, they feel all better now, really.

We are killing ourselves.

I take medication to keep anxiety at baby and suicidal thoughts out of my head. It keeps the knife away from my wriss, but the poisonous food in my body.

I can trust enough to share my body with a man, but not enough to shed the pounds which insulate it.

I can tell my brother to take his insulin, but not my own prescription refilled.

I can talk to a group member about her financial difficulties and then go shopping for frivolous material things.

I can condemn my friend for going back to an abusive man, but keep poisonous men in my own life.

I am a hypocrite. I'm not practicing what I preach. So now, what will I do about it? What will you do about it?

This could end up being one of those life changing moments where from this point on everything is different.

Or it could just be another day. The choice is up to you.

High Hopes

Here is the post describing when Ronan and I first met. I hadn't felt something like that in a very long time.

With or Without You

So I've been talking to Ronan again. Well, for awhile now. We both want to be together and we both seem ready to commit to this forever. I know we've had so many ups and downs and Ronan has changed his mind so many times before. I know some people will think I'm foolish for even putting my heart out there with him again. Oh well. I don't really know what else to say to that, because I want to be with him and he is the only person that I can see myself with for the rest of my life. Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic, maybe I'm just hopeless, but I just can't walk away from him, from us.

There are worse things to be than to be in love. We may do foolish things, and sometimes we may have our hearts broken, but we keep doing it because the pleasant glow of love is so inviting and feeling loved by someone you love opens up a whole new world or emotions, sensation and experience. As if this is what life is meant to be. A love greater than that of yourself. Whether it is for the work of God, for a life partner, or for a child or loved one, without love, one has not lived.

But ask me again in a month's time, and I might not be so enthusiastic about said emotion. Such is the nature of humans. It really does feel good to FEEL again. For so long, I was numb and didn't even realize it. While I didn't feel hurt or sad, I didn't feel love or joy, either. This is the tradeoff some people make in order to protect themselves. This is the tradeoff I made when I lost Mike after being attacked in high school. The whole range and scope of emotional hurt that whole experience thrust upon my fragile heart at such a young age had such an effect on me, I allowed myself to feel no more.

I was just looking through my papers from when I was hospitalized last year. I had writings from dreams or pieces of dreams that I felt were significant. One of them said, "This is God's gift to us, our love, our lives shared." I was referring at that time to Mike, the aforementioned lost love at that vulnerable time in my life. I had just gotten back in contact with him after over ten years of heartache. We talked, we reminisced, we kissed. I thought my life had come full circle. That everything both he and I had experienced this last decade was leading us to this day, the day we could finally be together again. I felt we had to learn about life and ourselves so that we could be better people for each other, so that we could really work, and not be the disaster of our younger days. He was in the process of a divorce, I had just returned from the UK. Our lives had taken us so far away from one another, and yet, here we were, at the same place, emotionally, connecting, longing, loving. We talked of what might have been, joked that maybe we should've gotten married when we were sixteen, we cried at the time we lost, at the hurt from the past and we looked into each other's eyes and connected again as if there had been no time at all. When we kissed, it was as if we had never kissed another. I was so overwhelmed by the amount of emotions I was experiencing. It was like the flip side of all that hurt I had felt so many years before. Now, I was overtaken by love, hope and joy.

Lightheaded, I hurried home and pulled out all our old letters, pictures, cards, gifts, anything that was related to what we once were. I smiled knowingly at all these items that I had cried over before, amazed by my happy ending. These expressions of love were no longer ironic tokens, but now symbols of how far we came, expressions of the beginning of our love, stories to tell the grandchildren. I was elated going through these things, making copies, putting memory books together. Then I realized that now we had all the time in the world.

The problem with being up so high is that it is a pretty steep, hard fall down. A week later, when he told me he wanted to get back together with his wife, I was CRUSHED. It was like my nightmare scenario had come true. From time to time over these years apart, I would have a dream that he and I were back together, everything being peachy, and then, he would look at me, the expression on his face not being the honest, loving one of a moment earlier, but of a snide, cocky man who laughed in my face saying it was all a joke, he could never love me again. I felt like a fool.

So, like in my dream, I felt like a fool. He explained to me the different degrees of love he had for me and for his wife. That the love for her was far superior and the love for me did not even come close. I was broken. I couldn't believe that my happy ending was really a rebound fling. I couldn't comprehend the fact that he loved someone else more than I loved him. Worse, that I loved him more than he could ever love me.

This, along with other life stressors at the time is what caused me to be hospitalized.

As I read the words in the notebook about this love being God's gift to us, I was really taken aback. I couldn't imagine feeling so strongly. It was an emotion that I no longer had. When I think about the life I want, and the love I want, it is only Ronan that I want. I'm happy that I'm over my previous relationship, but I can't help but wonder, will I too, become broken over what I believe to be my life love?

I can only say that if I thought that were the case, I wouldn't be doing it. I wouldn't be with him, I wouldn't be planning my life with him. I am willing to take the chance of the extreme hurt and pain, because the payoff is too rich to let go.

Hope Floats

I spent the night in Kokomo at a hotel with an indoor pool and a jacuzzi. After I checked in, I was hauling my luggage up to my room and I started to smell the distinct scent of chlorine. I walked past the pool and all of the sudden, I felt like a kid again. I wanted to just hurry up and jump in. I wanted to tug at my parents' shirts and beg "mommy, daddy, PUH-LEEEEZ, can I play in the pool?" Of course, I wasn't there with Mommy and Daddy, I was alone, carrying my laptop computer and a case full of files, ready to spend the night catching up on some work. Looking at the pool, I had a strong feeling that wasn't going to happen.

I hurried to my room to change into my "play clothes" and remembered I hadn't packed my swim suit. I had packed in a hurry and told myself I wasn't going to be needing it anyways since I wasn't sure if the place had a pool and even if it did, I was going to be spending the evening doing work, so no need to pack it. Furthermore, the more pessimistic part of my psyche told me that even if there was a pool and even if I wanted to get in it, I wouldn't. That negative nilly was telling me that I'd be too embarassed to be seen in public in a bathing suit. That nagging voice reminded me that even when I was thin, I hated being in a swim suit b/c I was so pale, and even then I was self conscience about my body shape. How in the world was I, a rape survivor who gained over one hundred pounds out of fear, going to be brave enough to step outside of my room/comfort zone with so little clothing?

Also, I don't know how to swim. And I'm by myself. So I'm going to be in a swim suit, alone in a pool, not knowing how to swim. Sounds like I would be putting myself in quite a vulnerable situation there.

I did it, though. I did it and lived to tell the tale. Swimming in your hotel pool may not seem like a lot for most people, but it was a huge deal for me. I dealt with my own fears of putting myself in a vulnerable place and faced my insecurities about my body and I just had fun. It was one of those few times where I didn't identify myself as a rape victim, for that brief time, I was just me.

Reunion Update

In the midst of the Sox excitement, I forgot to post about my high school reunion. It went well. The turnout was low, as was expected, but those of us who were there really had a good time. I'm in the process now of uploading photos and emailing and what not, and it is taking far longer than I anticipated. I also discovered that someone was nice enough to take a picture of their hairy ass with one of the disposable cameras! Yes, thank you for that. My reunion experience is now complete. What is it with boys and taking pictures of their naughty parts? Umm, you know what it looks like, please leave it at that. Only those women who are drunk enough to sleep with you should see that.

Speaking of which, I drank an alcoholic beverage that night. I know, watch out! It was something like a wine cooler, only slightly less wimpy, and one was all I needed to take the edge off and start karaoke-ing!

I really did have a blast and I'm so glad that I did it.

An update on my earlier post about the wife making fun of me; she's white. Go figure.

Go Sox!!!

The Sox are going to the World Series! First time since 1959, which is when my dad was 3 yrs old. My Dad and brother are near tears right now, they're so happy! Brian is possibly going up to the airport to meet the Sox when they fly in tonight. Early tomorrow, he'll be buying ALCS champs t-shirts and hats for sure!

Awesome, awesome, awesome. Go Sox!

Have you seen my Middle Ground?

Just a few posts ago, I was writing about how underused I was. How do I go from underused to stretched thin in just a few posts? I had the day off work today b/c of Columbus Day, which was splendid. This gave me time to work on the reunion. It is this Saturday. I did rope in two people to help me decorate and one person is making last minute phone calls. Thanks goodness for that, b/c after my phone call yesterday, I was infuriated.

I really don't think a lot of things make me mad. I can be slightly perturbed or annoyed, but mad, I can name the times in the last year I've reached that point. Infuriated is another thing altogether. Mad, or anger, for me, involves being out of control of your emotions. You are yelling and you can't help it. You want to throw something. You really think hitting something might make you feel better.

Infuriating is just a complete intolerance and unaccepting attitude toward something. Knowing that is the way of the world, but not liking it. So, as a result of this phone call, I was infuriated.

I was calling a classmate to see if he was going to come to the reunion. I had personally gotten the contact details for this classmate when I ran into him at a store a few months back. He was the one who approached me and asked me about the reunion. He told me all about his family, immediate and extended, and the tragedies and happy days of the last ten years. When I took his info, he said, "I'll let my wife know you'll be calling" and kind of laughed, explaining she'd want to know why a random woman was calling him.

I hadn't received an RSVP from him, and I knew he was interested, so I called him to follow up. I also wanted to know if there was a particular reason that might keep him from attending, such as money, and tell him not to worry about it. He could pay whenever, or just come. The whole point of this affair is that everyone should be able to attend.

So I called and his wife answered. I thought of the exchange earlier about his wife being concerned about another woman, and I also didn't want her to think I was some kind of bill collector or telemarketer, so I just said, "Hi, this is Sabrina from the high school, can I speak to B?" She dropped the phone on the floor. I could hear it hit the hard floor and bounce. Then, she does it - she mocks my voice to B letting him know he has a phone call. If you haven't guessed this already, I am white. I get INFURIATED when someone outside my race makes fun of my voice/accent. This black woman was making fun of me by doing her "white voice" and laughing at me. She's laughing at me for being white? For speaking properly? What exactly? For not knowing who I am? For not living in the projects? WHAT???

B gets on the phone and I just ask if he's coming to the reunion, he says, no, he won't be able to make it. Okay, bye. I'm not exactly in the mood for chit chat at that point since I am envisioning his wife in the next room laughing, B being completely uncomfortable with the situation and trying to shield me from his wife while not pissing her off. Yes - okay, bye was all I could say.

Now I'm not about to make the argument that what goes for whites should go for african americans, too, I'm not that naive. I know it's different. There is just something about this particular behavior that infuriates me. It's happened before when I was working in retail and it was so blatant and so rude and so racially dividing I was appalled. Here I am trying to be as nice as I possibly can only to get slapped in the face for it. Yes I am white and I do talk really white. I have a high pitched voice and I use the word "like" a lot. I am what I am, and I think it is far more damaging to change my tone of speech depending on with whom I'm speaking. That would mean that I would have to be mindful of the race and socio economic status of the person I'm interacting with. Then what I am going to do? Start speaking in a different tone, using different slang? Umm, I don't think so, that would be, at best, legitimately hilarious, at worst, racist. (Note, the song, "Pretty Fly for a White Guy")

Should I be like the oblivious heads of state and corporation and laugh it off while I count my money? Shaking my head at those poor, poor people? Umm, no, to that, too. Not only am I not a rich white man running a Fortune 500 company, I live down the street from the projects, in the same zip code, schools, stores. Am I poor? No. Am I rich? Nope. Am I a yuppy? Umm, no. I work in social services in one of the highest crime areas in the United States. Do I see myself as different from my classmates' wife? No, I don't. I didn't when I picked up the phone to call her and when she did her "impersonation" it was a clear statement of "you're different from me" and I had only spoken one sentence.

I am thankful for my life and my blessings, and I honestly pray in thanks every day. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Maybe it's naive to think that while we are all different, I expected to be considered a peer by my classmate. I have traveled around the world and have embraced this place as my home and these classmates as my friends, and know that no matter where I may go in the world, these people share a part of my history that no one else does. To have that taken away in one snide phone call is disheartening at best, infuriating, at worst.

An Outside View

Another bloggers thoughts on proposed legislation in Indiana.

Nun follow up

I was thinking about the story I wrote about in a previous post, where the movie star became a nun. I just re-read it, and it seems a bit harsh that I said it might not have been her calling. I was just thinking again, about how things might have been had she not entered the order. My imagination portrays an image that would have one wishing things would have turned out differently.

On the TV show, Medium, there was an episode about an old TV show called "I Married a Mind Reader" (a fictitious show, btw). Anyhow, the stars are married both on screen and off. However, the husband begins having an affair with the wife's personal assistant, who ends up pregnant. The wife finds out, but doesn't let on that she knows. She fears her career will end up damaged, as she is getting older, and Hollywood is not kind to older women, and the show would not be able to survive if the public knew they were separated in real life. In the meantime, the wife finds out she is dying of lymphomic cancer. She decides to take her career legacy and fate in her hands and shoots herself, making it look like she was murdered by her assistant. The husband will not let his pregnant lover go to jail, so takes the rap for her and spends his life in prison. He makes the mother of his child promise to never speak of what happened there.

Enter the Medium. Forty years later, the wife asks the medium to set the record straight so that her husband can be free and he can meet his son. The assistant had just passed away. The husband had never seen his son, nor did his son know who his father was. The Medium gets everything in order and the husband is reunited with his son and released from prison. Now the souls of the wife and the assistant are at peace.

I can imagine a similar situation may have lay ahead for the movie star mentioned in my previous post and God may have pointed her in different direction. Perhaps the love she had with the man who was once her fiancee was the love that this man needed, but had life taken turns, they may have lost that love.

God only knows, and in fact, I'm sure he does, which is why, in contrast with my previous post, I don't question the decision.

Here's a link I just found about becoming a nun in an order here in the Midwest.

http://www.poorclares.org/discern.html

Wake me up when September ends

Oh wait, it did! And it turned cold, like overnight. I was hot and had the a/c on in my car as high it would go, then I woke up and I needed to turn the heat on. Insanity. Yep, that's why Chicago is the second city, b/c there are only two seasons! (That was on some radio commercial a few years ago).

I was away all week travelling for work. Which means I am back to work. Those powers of deduction you have there are something else, eh, kid?

I'm still volunteering on Saturdays for the Humane Society. Today was my first time volunteering after a full week of work, so I took a long nap afterwards. And I mean, like four or five hours long! We were so busy at the shop today, which is a good thing, but there were a few crabby people which rubbed me the wrong way! Oh well, c'est la vie. It's amazing, though, how like two crabby people stay in your mind, versus the hundred nice people. How twisted.

Next weekend is my high school class reunion. I'm organizing it by myself and again, a few negative comments and I felt like throwing in the towel. The event is also going to be a toiletry drive for a local women's shelter, and I received an email from an angry classmate who stated that while she didn't have a problem with giving things away to help people, in general, she was upset that it was at our reunion. Oh well, c'est la vie.

Can a nun be a lawyer?

I have been so extremely underused these past few weeks. You would think that with all this free time, I would be halfway done with writing my book, have all my laundry and that of my neighbors done, and have my sock drawer organized, but alas, 'tis not the case.

Other than waiting by the phone for my boss to call and tell me my paperwork went through, I have pretty much been sleeping. I have the cordless phone next to my bed just in case my boss calls, though, so I'm doing my part. I am continually amazed at the bureaucracy of our government. See, that's why I'm waiting, b/c I work for the government. Technically, I couldn't stay on b/c technically I had the same job number as the person I was covering for, so technically I had to be off until the person I was covering for next actually was on leave. Well, that was technically two weeks ago (when he had his surgery). Now no one is doing his job. And so while I technically can't be working, they are still technically paying me. I'm not joking. They have yet to take me off payroll, or to change my permissions so I can still log on to the government system and have access to that information. That's our government. All those technicalities.

So with all this time on my hands, I've been thinking about my future. I have been accepted to a Masters program in Northern Ireland. I had deferred enrolment to this year, so now the course begins in October. I feel I would really enjoy the subject matter, and that it would definitely broaden my horizons, but my ultimate goal is to go to law school.

As I was thinking about the course my life may take, I remembered when I was studying in Dublin three years ago, and met a nun from Ethiopia. She was taking the course and staying at a local order and had been travelling around for some time. There was also a priest in the class, who I did not know was a priest until a little ways into the course. When I realized people who lived life in their faith could really live a life, I started to think that maybe that was the life for me. I love doing service work, travelling, learning, sharing. Last night when I was thinking again about this, I thought, "I love my life, except for the men part". The men in my life are always causing me undue drama and heartache, and if I could live a life without that, maybe then my heart would be fulfilled. Then I had to really think, years from now, will I be happy laying in my bed alone? The cynical part of me thought that's a very real possibility with or without living in the order. Even if I were to find someone and get married, who knows how long it will last. Who knows if it will be happy.

I remember watching a newsmagazine story about a movie star from the 50s who gave it all up to become a nun. She said that the first seven years were hard. SEVEN YEARS! Goodness me, it seems most people could get used to anything after seven years. She had a fiancee at the time she went into the order, and he never married and goes to visit her every week. I thought that was the saddest thing ever. It made me think that maybe that wasn't her calling...

So I want to be a lawyer and possibly a nun. That led me to ask "can a nun be a lawyer?" I've been told the answer is yes. Whether or not becoming a nun is the right path for me is a question not so easily answered.

Sunday morning

It's 5 a.m. and the newspaper is not here yet. The newspaper is usually here right after bedtime! What, is he sleeping in today or something? I've got my mind set on getting that paper before I go to sleep and at this rate, I'll be watching the sun rise.

Never mind that I, myself, never got up this early in my paper route days. Oh no, a girl needs her beauty sleep, you know? Yeah, I was lucky if I got 'em out before school started. You know, punctuality just isn't my thing. After years of trying to fit into that whole "on time" box, I've finally come to terms with the fact that I'm not that kind of person. I have great ideas and work hard, don't get me wrong, but if I had to punch a time clock, I'd be late ten out of ten times.

And dissatisfaction - nope, can't deal with it. I can't just grin and bear things. If I'm not 100% behind something, I'm not doing it. When I was working at a clothing store, each employee had to meet a certain quota for store credit card applications. I refused to solicit them. I always made my sales goals by a mile, because I believed in the clothes, but these credit cards - no way. You can only use them at that store, they have outrageously high finance rates and even just applying puts that mark on your credit report. Other employees had no shame and would solicit the cards to people who didn't speak English, seriously learning disabled individuals, anyone whose hand they could shove a pen into.

When I worked for a community action agency who cared less about the people it served and more about getting more publicity - I stayed on for the money, following advice from employment agencies and family and friends. I hated it, didn't agree with the principles, but forced myself to go every day. This is when my body took over and said, "listen, bitch, we ain't going in today". First, I fell and was on disability for several months. After months of physical therapy and drugs, I forced myself to go back to work. A few weeks later, I was in the hospital with a fast heart rate. After I was released, I forced myself to go back. Then in the mornings, I started to have these odd symptoms like chattering teeth, chest pains and could not physically go to work. This was the onset of my anxiety. I learned a good, hard lesson from that that I won't soon forget.

So when I was chatting online to Ronan today and he carried on with his typical b.s., I knew I had enough. I was no longer 100% behind a relationship with him, and I could not go back. Not for anything. I know what the right decision for me is, but if, for some reason, I go against it, for whatever reason, my body will catch up with me and let me know that it's not right. I'm not going to let that happen for a boy. Not again. Finally I realize that the most important person in my life is me.

Why do cords run long ways?

How funny

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9189599/site/newsweek/

Red headed pain

From CNN.com
Redheaded Women Have a Unique Ability

Blondes may have more fun, but redheaded women have a special quality that is as unique as their hair color. They have an innate ability to tolerate more pain than other people.

In studies on "redhead" mice, which actually have blonde fur but carry a similar gene to the one that causes red hair in humans, scientists from the Human Genetics Unit in Edinburgh, Scotland were able to target the pain-reducing mechanism. These red-haired mice have a similar ability as human female redheads to withstand higher pain thresholds compared with other mice and require less anesthetic to block out certain kinds of pain.

Read more

There's more than one answer

MSNBC.com
Many evacuees go to black churches for help
Some Katrina victims frustrated with bureaucracy of government, charities

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/9276824/

It's only usless 'til you use it

From The Hammond Times Newspaper

A word (a day) to the not-so-wise

This story ran on nwitimes.com on Sunday, January 19, 2003 12:22 AM CST
GREEK TO ME with Michael Raysses

Come the new year, a man's thoughts turn to, well, the new year. Thus, the calendar that I buy to mark time's passage is important to me, beyond making sure I am aware of the date. My calendar must reflect who I am and my relationship to time. (I know you're thinking: "Hey, Mike, it's just a calendar!")

But nothing is as easy as it used to be, so the prospect of picking out a calendar looms large. I don't want just a calendar on the wall above my desk; that would be too impersonal. I want something that climbs down off the wall, sits itself down next to my computer and communicates with me directly. I want a daily calendar; the kind I used to see in old movies -- pages flying off in a mad whirl to indicate the passage of time. Daily calendars, however, aren't what they used to be.

A trip to the bookstore revealed numerous daily calendars, each one dedicated to a specific topic or motif. There were daily calendars for the Civil War, ones with daily Bible quotes. Some were humorous ("The 365 Stupidest Things Ever Said"), while others were more topical. There was an entire calendar dedicated to quotes from our current president titled "They Misunderestimated Me." Sometimes daily calendars overlap, and the good money says that of the aforementioned 365 stupidest things ever said, George W. is good for at least three solid months.

There also are daily calendars that seek to inspire ("Achieve Your Daily Dreams"), as well as those that prey on our deepest fears ("The Worst Case Scenario Daily Calendar"). And just when I had an idea for the perfect hybrid daily calendar for a dysfunctional society ("Achieve Your Daily Worst Case Scenario"), I saw my future, or at least the next 365 days worth in "All in a Word-a-Day" calendar.

"A Word-a-Day" calendar defines a different word for you every day. The good ones give you some insight into the roots of the word, how it evolved and its various uses. Being a writer, you'd think that would be a natural choice. But it runs much deeper than that.

As a kid, I read Marvel comic books. And although Captain America and Spider-Man captivated me, the superhero I most identified with was one of the original X-Men. His name was Beast. Now Beast was short and solid and strong, but the thing that drew me to him was the way he spoke. He had this amazing vocabulary. He would say things like "My pedal extremities are humongous." (Translation: I have big feet.) And though it meant he was on a different wavelength from those around him, it also distinguished him.

So deep was my connection to Beast that I took to talking like him for a while. It wasn't long before my third-grade teacher was sending notes home to my mom, asking her where I was learning so many words that no one else seemed to know the meaning of. And what trauma had I suffered that I was speaking so affectedly?

Years after I quit reading comic books, my dad was working around the house one day. He had his toolbox out; in it was a huge set of socket wrenches of all sizes. I pulled an odd-sized one out and asked him why he owned it. What purpose could a 13/16th-inch socket ever serve? He said something that stuck with me: He told me that particular socket was useless until the moment when he needed it. Then it became invaluable.

From that day on, that's how I saw words -- like sockets for a wrench. And I wanted a socket for every possible occasion. Nothing feels as good as wanting to describe something, to capture its essence, then to reach into some dark corner of your mind and pull out a word, clamp it onto the page, knowing you've achieved a snug fit.

There is one danger in conducting a love affair with words: Your affinity for them may blind you when it comes to using them effectively. And that in a feverish frisson, you will slather your writing with luxuriant terms and expressions, committing solecism after solecism, inviting jeremiads from those unwilling to overlook your literary peccadilloes. The underlying ratiocinations for this will forever remain a mystery to me. (Translation: A word a day can lead a writer astray, which isn't Greek to me.)

E-mail Michael Raysses at Majikrat@Earthlink.net.

And it all came crashing down

I lost my job. About three hours ago. There was a voice mail from my supervisor, left at 9 pm on Sunday night. "You needn't come in to work tomorrow, thanks for your time."

I think my stomach hurts, but I'm kind of numb, so I'm not really sure.

Yes, there is another position coming up, but instead of me automatically getting this position, as was hoped, it is not going to be that easy. Of course not, this is government, nothing is easy.

To make a bureaucratic story short, I won't be working for approximately the next four weeks.

What the hell happened? Here I was, finally being a responsible adult with a decent paying wage and a bit of stability, looking towards buying a home, making my car payments, paying my student loans, and then, wow, I'm indigent again. Just like that.

Back to the free clinic instead of health insurance. Back to postponing paying bills. Back to begging the student loan people to not have my knee caps broken. Just. Like. That.

Living Large

Ah yes, the high life. In a different city each day staying in nice hotels, carrying a laptop. Yep, I am officially an adult, or something like that. Really, though I am so tired and had far more fun staying at my friend's house last week then in this "posh" hotel and the king size bed in here only makes me feel lonely. "How many card keys will you require?" Umm, yes, that would be one. Yes, I am alone, yes there is no chance someone will need to slip into my room later, yes I feel like a loser.

Birthday Blues

I always get depressed around my birthday, I think. The night before, I usually do a sort of "inventory" of the past year and assess what has happened and what I would like for the next year. None of this is ever material assets, I should note. Well, before I could even get into my self reflective mode, I was faced with the realization that Jason has been lying to me for a very long time. I posted the email I received in the entry below. He admitted it to me and said he was sorry to lose me as a friend due to his own stupidity. (There are misplaced modifiers all over that last sentence, but hopefully you get the picture.

Well, not only did I read her words, but I saw photos as well. Photos of him with her; photos of him with her daughter. Photos of him in her house, in America, where he said he had never been. Photos with the woman he slept with, though he told me he hadn't slept with anyone. Photos with the family he swore he wanted, while he told me he could never settle down. Photos of a man who looked very much like a man I used to know, but realize now I never did.

Another Betrayal

> Hey Sabrina
> You don't know me so i really don't expect you to believe me. But first of
> all i found out about you through a mutual "friend" and it is about that
> "friend" that i am writing to you about. That person is Jason Tracey, i am
> sure that when you next talk to him that he will probably tell you that i am
> jsut jealous cause he is not with me any more but that is not it, i jsut
> think that something needs to be done about him and i know i read about
> what he had done to you in you blog, the same thing and i am really sorry
> that you was treated that way. I guess that is something that we have in
> common. I met him as a pen pal and fell in love with him. He claimed that he
> felt the same way for me as well. He even came here (Utah) to visit me in
> January 2005. I then found out through a friend that lived there in Belfast
> that he was dating a woman named Angela. When i confronted him with it he
> denied it saying that they were only going to school together and had gone
> out for a drink to celebrate passing a test. It sounded reasonable enough
> since i knew that he had to take a exam the day that my friend saw them
> together so like a idiot i let it got. Then when he was here visiting again
> in May i found out through my monitoring program to keep track of what my
> daughter was doing on the PC i found out that he was still also with his
> "ex" girlfriend Donna. Once again i confronted him about being unfaithful (
> because we had been talkign about him moving here when he finished school
> and us getting married, kids and the whole 9 yards, i kept asking him if
> that was really what he wanted and he kept saying he knew it was with out a
> doubt that i was his soul mate and the only one that he wanted) and about
> lying to me about not being with any one else. He told me that she had
> tryied to OD when he dumped her a year and a half ago so he felt guilty and
> was just being her friend but she thought that they were more then friends.
> I told him that if that was really true then he was leading her on with it
> by calliing her "honey", "pet" and telling her that he missed her so much
> much and loved her. He told me that he would straighten it out when he got
> back home but never did. In the end i had to end up emailing her myself
> because he just kept telling me that he couldnt' get in touch with her, that
> she wouldn't answer his calls or emails while he was actually talking to
> her. We broke over that in the early part of June then around the end of
> June, during that time i lost his baby that i had gotten pregnant with in
> May. Thankfully i wasn't that far along not even quite a month but when i
> told him he acted or said that it hurt him terribly because he had wanted it
> and would have loved it so much. Then in the begining of July we decided to
> try to work things out and go on from there. Well while we were talking
> online to try to work things out i checked my email and i had this one from
> some friend of Angelas saying that she had sent him that email and thought
> that i should know what he ws being told and what he was up to. It was
> chewing him out over what he had done to Angela and some of the stuff in
> there was something only some one who had either slept with him or had been
> told by some one who had slept with him would know. The email itself is
> pretty disgusting or i would have just sent it to you. So there he was
> telling me that he hadn't slept with any one else since we had been together
> (10 months), didn't want to sleep with any one else, still wanted to marry
> me and all that. I told him that if he really wanted to work things out he
> would be honest with me and tell me exactly what happened and he kept
> telling me that he was being honest with me. Finally i told him that i KNEW
> he had slept with Angela and i am sure he slept with Donna too and if he
> would just admit it then we could have it in the open between us, work it
> out then put it in the past and move on from there. But he kept denying it
> so i told him about the email that i had got and the he had gotten the same
> one too. He asked me what email and i told him that i was sure that he
> already read it and i had gotten the same one, then told him a bit about it.
> Instead he just told me that i would never believe him and went ofline. I
> know that i sound like some jealous woman that can't get over being dumped
> for some one else but that is not why i am telling you this. I am telling
> you this because i think that us women need to stick together against these
> lying sack of shit men that just play with womens hearts and emotions like
> Jason does. Deep down i think that he is a good and loving man. But he lies,
> can't be honest at all and don't even know the meaning of the word faithful.
> I would just hate to see some one else get hurt by him like he hurt us. I
> think that maybe there has got to be some way to get him to really realize
> what he is doing is wrong, not just say that he knows it is wrong but to
> really realize it and stop. I think that some day he is really going to fall
> in love himself for real and the woman he falls for is going to do the same
> thing to him. Although i am still very hurt over what he did and yes very
> upset as well i will admit, i am still deeply in love with him and always
> will be so i dont' want him to go through this kind of pain. If you would
> like some proof that i do in fact know him and that i will be more then
> happy to send you some photos of us together.

Too Much Information?

This article talks about some backlash bloggers have suffered due to their candor...

Sabrina's Travels indeed

Today I am in Indianapolis and have been able to experience a little bit of this city. I was in a building working very near to our Capitol building. I got to drive around the "circle", which kind of reminded me of Trafalgar Square in London. Speaking of which, I cried this morning when I found out what had happened, but once I got hold of Phil, I was okay. I am still a bit concerned about some people from my old work, but the office is closed tomorrow, so I won't be able to get hold of them.

Anyhow, I also ate lunch at the canal, which is just named "the canal" and thought of going on one of the paddleboats in the future.

Tomorrow morning I leave Indianapolis and go to a much smaller town of Fowler. We'll see what things I see there.

Another day, another new job

This week I will be starting a new temporary position. I will be keeping my post as Director of the day care, but I will also be working as a temporary licensing consultant, going around to day cares all across this lovely state ensuring they are up to par. I have to drive down to the state capitol (two and a half to three hours away) tomorrow and get all clued up and after that I have no idea where I will be based. The position is 80% travel and I am covering someone's maternity leave. The position is open until January, though, just in case the person does not immediately return and also b/c the status of one of her co-workers is up in the air. We shall see. Really I'm honored they even considered me for the position. Could this be a step up? Or another life experience to learn from? Or both?

Not tonight, hon, I've got a headache

I was so excited to be here, in America, for the 4th of July this year. It started off well enough, with my cousins from Tennesse coming over for a visit and we had fun (as shown in the photos below). Once we bid them adieu and night fell, though, my feelings changed and suddenly I wanted to be far, far away.

My head is killing me from all these frigging fireworks!

They are just popping off everywhere. People are in their front yards, backyards, driveways, wherever they can find, they are out there lighting explosives, often with small children with them. The air is smoky, but mostly what bugs me is that even though I am in my house, with my doors and windows closed, I can still here each and every firework set off within a few block radius. I put a pillow over my head and still I hear it. I go to the room with the fewest windows, no relief. I can't even see straight right now b/c of this headache. I keep having to go back and correct myself b/c I'm transposing words. And despite it being legal to sell and purchase fireworks in Indiana, it is illegal to light them. Somehow, I don't see this rule being enforced. Though, they could make a lot of money if they started writing tickets. However, I think they would have more serious problems on their hands if they pissed off a bunch of people with a penchant for lighting dynamite!

The dreaded hole #2 - all of us in the photo could not land that hole! 

Spending the 4th with my family from Tennessee! 

Licorice and adopted older brother Sherman. I have to make the pics very bright b/c Lic doesn't show up in them (he's jet black!) 

"Follow me!" 

"You looking at me?" 

Mr. Yucko

Received from my friend Ed via e-mail. I also heard that the waste was going to be transported via rail across the country, coming across our nice state as well.

This is spooky stuff. Its no secret but make yourself aware, this sounds like the biggest disaster ever waiting to happen.

This about sums it up: "Every possible solution has been explored, from dumping it in the ocean to launching it towards the sun. Finally, President Bush, the Department of Energy, and the U.S. Congress decided that all of that nuclear waste should be moved to Nevada and buried under a mountain in the middle of the desert."
CBS News Report

Government Report

I ain't never seen an *ss like that

You ever have one of those moments of realization where you learn something new and it stays with you forever? I've had a few. One was in 1994, when I was at a clothes store reaching up to the top rack. I caught a side view of myself in a mirror nearby, and was like "damn, my butt is big." Another was in 1996 when I was working at a clothes store and I was walking in, caught my view in our mirrors and thought "damn my stomach isn't flabby, it's just firm". In June 2005, I was in my kitchen, with the light off, but caught an glimpse of my shadow and thought, "daaaaaaaamn that's a big old ghetto booty".

In 1992, I saw a photo of myself and thought, wow, I look thin. Strange b/c when I looked at myself and in a mirror, I didn't think that at all. The same thing when I watched a home movie in 1990. I thought "there must be something wrong with this camera, b/c it makes me look skinny." Again in '92, I saw a polaroid of myself that had just been taken and thought, "my arms look like Skeletor." Yet, even then, with the snapshot of how I looked right at that moment, I didn't see it myself.

I wonder if the image I have of myself and the image others have of me will ever be the same? Probably not, but I don't think they'll ever even come close.

At group last week, we did this self esteem exercise and at the beginning of the session, we had to rate how we felt about ourselves with 1 being the lowest form of humanity and 10 being the best anyone could possibly feel about themselves. I said a 5. We then had to go around and write different positive qualities about other members of the group and then we had our own read to us. I was surprised by some of the things people had to say about me; particularly "enthusiastic" and "fun".

If you would have asked me a year ago, I might have used those words to describe myself. However, since getting back in touch with Mike (old high school boyfriend), I have really begun to think quite the opposite. Why? Well, basically, b/c he told me so - over and over again. That I wasn't fun, I was always serious, sad, etc. You hear something five times a day every day you start to believe it. Especially when it comes from someone you think knows you better than anyone else.

Recently, though, I have started to see that what he says doesn't always reflect the truth. I have been able to see him and what he says and does the way others do. The same thing has happened with Ronan, a few months ago. Something clicked in my brain and I suddenly saw what everyone else saw and then had no desire to maintain contact or even wish for a reconciliation.

You can always see when your friend is in a bad situation. You can tell them, "he's not worth it", "you deserve better". You find it hard to understand why she would be with such a person who obviously doesn't treat her right. Yet, when it is ourselves, we can't seem to see it. I am fortunate enough to have been able to see it for myself twice now. The spell has been lifted.

And it very well may have saved my life.

The Comedy of Tragedy

In late 2001, I had just moved to Dublin, Ireland and was living in a hostel, going on job interviews and looking for a place to live. I wasn't even particularly sure I wanted to stay in Dublin, and considered going to the other side of the country and stay in Galway. I had moved there from London, England, where I had just finished up working for the NSPCC on my BUNAC six month work permit. I really didn't want to leave, and working in Ireland for four months was really just an attempt to extend my stay abroad.

Less than a week into my Dublin stint, I got a call from my Mom. (One of my first orders of business upon arriving in Dublin was purchasing a cell phone.) Something was wrong, I could tell. She told me my brother Brian was in the hospital. He had tried to commit suicide.

I couldn't believe it. I told her I would come home right away.


Now, just a few short years later, his name is in the newspaper for very different reasons. Brian's comedy has been taking him all around the midwest and he even had a shot at a network sitcom (it wasn't picked up). Most importantly, though, he seems to be happy. He still has a "day job" in Chicago and plays softball on the weekends and hangs out with his girlfriend. He has really learned a lot from his past experiences and does not hesitate to speak to others about it. When someone says thank you for talking with them, he laughs and says, "that's all I know about, drinking, so I might as well talk about it".

And talk about it, he does, to hundreds of people, several nights a week. He is doing something he's always wanted to do and doing it well. I admire you, Brian, and I'm so proud.

What's My Age Again?

I didn't think that at the age of 27 I would have to worry about the men in my age bracket going for "younger" women. Well, apparently I was wrong. Mike, my old high school boyfriend, is now sleeping with an 18 year old. Do I even remember being 18? Yes, I vaguely remember talking to my friends about how now I couldn't try and climb up the water tower b/c I was officially an adult (and therefore would get in REAL trouble). She just graduated from high school last week. I'm going to my 10 year reunion next month.

Does this mean I'm officially old? Is is time for me to join the First Wives' Club even though I've never been married?

At a gathering a couple of months ago, someone said that a woman's eggs start to die when they turn 28. I was thinking, "wow, is it all downhill from here?" "Is that my biological clock I hear ticking?" "Shit, I don't even have a boyfriend!"

I asked my gynecologist about it and she said that is false. Well, what she said was that your eggs start dying off when you are born or something like that. I don't know, but she assured me that no, this was not the other side of the baby making hill I was on.

Which is another thing - I took a pregnancy test yesterday and again this morning b/c I haven't had my period in two months. They were both negative. I dreamt last night that this man who could see such things, looked at me, saw my uterus and said, "I don't know what kind of pregnancy tests you've been taking, but you are definitely expecting." Likely an anxiety dream, I know, but it was still so emotional.

Well now that the second test is negative, I'm starting to wonder if I can even become pregnant. I mean, I've been having sex for many years now and I've never been pregnant. True, that I have used protection, but my doctors keep telling me that I can't use only condoms b/c they are not reliable on their own. But I've not gotten pregnant.

I talked to one of my good old (meaning we've been friends for many years, not that she is old) friends about this and she said she had thought the same thing before she got pregnant with her child. Ronan once told me his ex had also thought that before getting pregnant with their child.

Wait a minute, now I remember Ronan was sleeping with a 17 year old when we broke up. Yes, it's all coming back to me now. Wow. And Mike was all judgemental about that when I talked to him about it, but you know what, she's 18 now, Mike, so it's okay, right?

I'm sure that I'm just overthinking this, I mean, what else is new? I just hope that one day I'll be with someone who wants to have a baby just as much as I do and we can start a family together.

That's not too much to ask, is it?

Well, I guess if the men with whom who want to have families are sleeping with 18 year olds, maybe it is.

Fairies are Women

This is one of those email things that I received today;

A married couple in their early 60s were out celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary in a quiet, romantic little restaurant. Suddenly, a tiny yet beautiful fairy appeared on their table and said, "For being such an exemplary married couple and for being faithful to each other for all this time, I will grant you each a wish. "Ooh, I want to travel around the world with my darling husband" said the wife. The fairy moved her magic stick and - abracadabra...Two tickets for the new QM2 luxury
liner appeared in her hands. Now it was the husband's turn. He thought for a moment and said: "Well this is all very romantic, but an opportunity like this only occurs once in a lifetime. So I'm sorry my love, but my wish is to have a wife who is 30 years younger than me." The wife and the fairy were deeply
disappointed, but a wish is a wish... So, the fairy made a circle withher magic stick and - abracadabra! -

The husband became 92 years old.

The moral of this story: Men might be ungrateful ....

But fairies
are......

female.

Nicole Conner

Another Quarter Life Crisis

Hope everyone was able to get some time off this
holiday weekend. I am sick (just mucous everywhere) and I've found
myself pondering (again) whether my life (specifically my job) is
going in the right direction. As you know, I am running a day care.
The owner lives on a farm in Oklahoma. I worked with her my first
week and then ran the place by myself. This week is the first time
she has been back to the daycare since I started the position. It
started off with an all staff meeting Friday night which was supposed to put all the staff (sauf moi) in line b/c we had been considering firing everyone (long story). The first half of the meeting, I led and it was a business meeting and issues were brought up according to the agenda, discussed and resolved. Her half of the meeting was everyone spilling out all their feelings, no matter what they were, so that we could start anew. Well, this turned into the "I just got a free ticket to tell my boss where to go" part of the meeting - the boss being myself. I think it is only natural for most people to have some sort of resentment towards their boss at one time or another, especially in low level jobs, where it is not understood what exactly the boss does ("well, she's not down here changing diapers, she must
be chatting to her boyfriend on the phone") and also when I have taken on a new position. The problem, though, is when the owner(my boss) indulges these urges and gives them greater creedence than I really think they merit. Now, don't get me wrong, I know I've made mistakes - but the content of this meeting and the other times they've bitched about me to the owner have to do more with things like I didn't smile and say hello or I solved a problem over the phone instead of coming in on my day off.

Anyhow, I had the long weekend to get over that and come in today to find her sitting in "my" chair in the office and essentially just running around like a chicken with its head cut off, like she always did before, leaving tornadoes of confusion and disorganization behind her. However, when we were looking at a baby girls infected genitalia trying to figure out what it was and what we should do about it I realized I had no idea what the hell I was doing. And looking at her trying to solve this, I regained the perspective that this is her dream - she had wanted to have her own day care for 14 years. She left b/c she ran herself ragged and couldn't take it anymore. Also, her husband had some health problems. But I am a mere administrator.
This is not my dream. My dream is to leave something behind that is bigger than myself and my existence - she has already done that.

Well, that's pretty much what I had to say. What is up with all these existential quarter life crises? Geez louise! I thought I had it down this time for sure. Ah well, I suppose we shall see.

I must have been in a cave over the past few weeks b/c I just heard about this performance today. Earlier this month, an artist named "Bright Eyes" sang a song called "When the President talks to God" on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Here is a link to one of the many sites talking about it and offering the video. I came across it at msn.video.com.

Wowee. I wonder what the real deal is - if Leno and his gang knew he was going to sing that or if he did switch it. Jay Leno was definitely tripping over his words after that performance.

I am writing this letter b/c I am sick and can't talk :-( I know, pity isn't it? Mmmhmm. Otherwise, I'd be on the phone! It's so funny, though, b/c despite the fact my mom has seen me go through each phase of this sickness and knew my throat was getting worse and worse, when I didn't talk today, she was perturbed. I pointed to my throat, but then she kept asking me questions and when I replied with a gesture (like shaking the head, shrugging shoulders) she didn't seem to believe that I really couldn't talk. That's how it was last time I lost my voice a few months ago. People think you just PREFER to not talk, not that it will send you into a coughing fit that come from the bowels of your soul. Oh well.
Today is Memorial Day here. It used to be called Decoration Day b/c the tradition was to go to the graves of soldiers and place flowers there. It is a weird contrast, though, b/c everyone so looks forward to Memorial Day b/c of the day off work, the barbecues and the unofficial begin to summer. Not exactly what the originators had in mind, I suppose.
Well, I guess I'll be off for now. My stomach is growling and I am dreading having to eat knowing what it will do to my throat. Icky icky.
Hope all is well

Wow, my last post was in January and here it is almost June! Well, I am still working at the child care facility. I oversee a staff of ten teachers and we have over fifty children enrolled. I make less than half of the pay I made working in an office in the city, but truthfully, it has been more than twice as rewarding.

Tomorrow I have two meetings - one with a health and safety specialist who will be reviewing our facility and another with an architect who will be reviewing other aspects of the facility. We are applying for a higher grade license, so we have to bring in the experts. Friday we have an all staff meeting and the owner is coming in from Oklahoma for the first time since I started the position. Sparks are going to fly, that is for sure and heads are gonna roll!

Before the staff meeting, though, I have a meeting with an insurance agent about possibily getting health insurance for the staff. Hmm... now that I think about it, maybe I should wait for this insurance meeting b/c something tells me I'm not going to have the same employees going into next week...

In the meantime, though, I have been enjoying my day off by hanging out with Licaroo, and I have been looking at pet adoption sites and wanted to share this one:
http://www.1-800-save-a-pet.com

Maybe you'll find the true love of your life there ;-)

It’s snowing outside…again. I don’t think I was built for these Chicago winters. I think I need to go back to my native (by ancestry) Ireland where snow is more like a major event and less like a daily occurrence. Even Licorice didn’t want to go outside!

I have just accepted a position as Director of a local day care center. I will be starting next week. I am excited but nervous. I am taking the next few days to get my personal affairs in order before I start this full time job with a load of responsibility. I may even go to Northern Ireland for a visit. We shall see.

I am feeling a bit overwhelmed by things, though. I think, though, it's more the idea of things rather than the actual things themselves. Anticipation is always the worst. When I actually think of my job responsibilities, they are nothing that I haven't done before. I mean, I ran a store when I was 19, I can do this now, right? I really know that I can, or else I wouldn't have accepted the position, I just think it's the commitment I'm afraid of. I won't be able to sleep in when I want or fly off to places or have bad days in general. Well, I guess I can have bad days, but not often and I can't let it affect my work. I can no longer just hide underneath the covers when the world seems too overwhelming.

Tomorrow is my first day at a new job and I am nervous. Given my state of nausea at the moment, I would say pretty nervous. I haven't had stand up all day job in ages. Well, I guess I stood up when I worked with kids, but that was constant movement and there was some sitting down, too. Anyhow, tomorrow is only five hours, so hopefully I will be able to break myself in.

Okay, well I think my body is less upset about the new job and more upset about the mountain of McDonald's fries I ate tonight. Dang, I knew I shouldn't have eaten all of those. McDonald's has now gone from being my party friend to being my avoided enemy.

Also, the last time I worked in retail, I inadvertently lost weight, which is something I wouldn't mind doing at this point.

I have spent a large portion of tonight watching MTV and VH1. It was a whole lot of reality tv. I was watching Real World and Real World/Road Rules Challenge on MTV and the Surreal Life, Strange Love and the start of Celebrity Fit Club on VH1. I think this Surreal Life is going to be hilarious! I mean it has Peter Brady and Mini Me!

Well, it is getting late now, so I best pick out my clothes for my first day (just like a schoolgirl!) and get a good night's rest. I did my laundry like a good girl and even folded it and hung it up. Yay me! :-)

I’ve decided to just pick up the site where I left off. Revamping it is too much of a project for me right now, and I’d rather have something than nothing. As a wise woman once told me, “When you live your life ‘all or nothing’, you usually end up with a whole lot of nothing”: Words to live by.

At the moment I am still here in America. I am reacquainting myself with neighbors and other people from my past. I had been moving around partially to avoid these people because they reminded me of parts of my past about which I’d rather not think. My adventure now is to confront my ghosts from which I’ve been running and deal with them head on. If I can go across the world to help others, I can stay right here at home to help myself: At least for awhile.

It has snowed the past two days and my Mom and brother have used the snowblower to clear walkways not only for our house, but also for both of our next door neighbors. The snowblower is a wonderful invention. Oh, me, did I go out there? Heavens no! I go out to walk to the car, to take Licorice out for a pee and to walk across the alley to my neighbor’s house. I’m not what one would call “a fan” of snow. I don’t deal with it well at all. You would think being from here I would have developed a thicker skin for this sort of thing, but nope. I think my Irish roots are too ingrained in me – or I’m just a wuss.

I have absolutely had it with men. Sandy (my across the alley neighbor) and I are going to get sweatpants with the words “Guys, kiss my ass” printed on the butt with a graphic of lips on the side, as if to say, “yeah, right HERE!” Earlier in the week, Bryan’s ex called me from the Dominican Republic and essentially busted him out because he wasn’t being exactly straightforward with either one of us. He got defensive, yelled at me and I haven’t spoken to him since. The SAME DAY Ronan called me from Northern Ireland to chat. He wants to get back together, but I have been reticent to accept his plea. After he changed his mind the first half dozen times, a girl tends to get a bit skeptical. He said that it’s been four months, hasn’t he proven himself yet? No, I said, because the second I say yes to you, I fear I will get a call or email from you the next day saying to forget about it. He had bad news, though, telling me that his application to Work in Canada was denied. If he wants to really be together, I don’t know how it could work with us a world away.

Then there’s Mike. Mike is my old high school boyfriend who I was oh so in love with and thought I was going to marry. I had not spoken to him in ten years and we recently got back in touch. Mike and I fight like cats and dogs. I don’t know what the hell it is, but he can push my buttons like I’m a microwave oven and he’s aluminum foil, and in less than a minute I EXPLODE. Yesterday, as he was bitching and moaning about life, I asked if he wanted to hang out today. He said it would be nice to chill and forget about things for awhile. Accordingly, I phoned today and invited him over to cook with my Mom and me and he says, “what?” I recall the previous day’s conversation and he says, “I don’t remember saying that, and if I did, I didn’t mean it.” I told him to fuck off and go back to his miserable little life and that was that.

So when Sandy hears all this mess, she suggests hooking me up with someone. I give her the evil eye and tell her that right now, guys can kiss my ass! Hence, the sweatpants idea (which was Sandy’s, I just added the lips.) So girls, if you’ve had it with the b.s. guys are slinging our way, contact me to order your very own pair of ‘kiss my ass’ sweatpants! I’m sure they’re great to wear when plowing snow. ;-)