dear blog,

i have arrived at a bittersweet decision.
its time to say goodbye to you.
its not that i haven't enjoyed my time here,
but i feel i need a change...
i am afraid i've outgrown you.
that's what life is all about, right?
growth.
be it good or bad,
like the stems of a plants,
we grow.
i won't be erasing you, my little blog,
i could never do that.
you have become my foundation on which i walk upon.
i just won't be contributing to you any longer.
as for my new blog,
don't be jealous.
she is young and tender, and i'll mold her just like i molded you.
she'll never replace you, my dear old blog.
for those scarce few who chance upon you,
shall email me and i'll send them an invite to my new blog,
as it is a private one.
fall fades to the still of winter,
and from the dead arises a phenomenal rebirth,
spring.
there's a reason my birthday is in the spring.
just when i feel like i am gasping for air...
here comes spring,
and i am invigorated once again.
cosmically taureans are opposed and obstinate to change,
but i feel it necessary at the moment.
growth can only be good.
i have had a bittersweet affair with you,
but alas, it is time to depart and find my new ground elsewhere.
but you, you are like my tattoo,
always with me.


with love always,
state of grace.

ranting.

the boys are gone
and the only noise is my dawson's creek soundtrack playing.
Honey is sleeping off a migraine,
and the dogs are sleeping off...i don't know what,
lazy bastards.
i am going through nicotine and caffeine withdrawals and its a bitch.
i am antsy and restless as hell.
damnit, boy.
no kool-aid tropical punch Jammers can take off the edge.
my flowers outside are so beautiful,
we've done a good job on them this year.
i am sooo eager for school to be over.
i cannot concentrate,
it feels as if there's a dense fog preventing me from kicking usual ass in school.
which, in turn, aggravates me even more.
/sigh.
anyways, i'm off like a trojan at a bareback-a-thon!

compassion.

i been thinking...
i was his own flesh and blood,
yet he didn't even know me.
he had all of these assumptions about me,
and most likely only .01% of them were/are true.
he didn't know me and he hated me.
can you imagine hating somebody that you TRULY don't know?
what does that say about us if we hate them back simply because they hate us?
unwilling particpants in this vicious cycle of hate?
i think that is what i regret while he was alive.
i regret playing along in that shallow cess pool of a 'game.'
i am not saying that i regret not having a relationship with him,
no.
i am saying that i regret not being okay with not hating him.
i now understand more than ever that sometimes people don't have the capabilities to go beyond their initial judgements of people to look just beneath those book covers.
and that's okay.
maybe they're holding onto a grudge?
maybe they're scared that they've changed, that they've grown up?
maybe they are scared to see the truth of the person?
maybe they're scared that their reason for hating them will dissipate if they truly saw them?
hate can become a comforting crutch that we get used to, if we allow it.
if you take the hate away, then, what?
what will fill its void?
its scary;
uncharted territory.
you cannot expect people to go past their comfort zones.
i wouldn't want anybody doing that to me.
but i tell you,
i get it.
i'll be okay with somebody hating me that doesn't even know me.
what this world needs is more compassion and less hate.

/breathe.

i am discovering many things;
it is hard to keep a set of twin 12 year olds occupied,
"family jewels" are a precious commodity,
fuck or god damnit rolls as easily off their tongues as hey or whats up,
their musical repertoire is much broader than mine
(seeing as to how their favorites include those born 30 years MY senior),
they try to be big and bad but underneath it all they still don't want to sleep alone,
my dogs are annoying, hard headed assholes whom i love and loathe simultaneously,
and it IS possible to unknowingly get sun burned in 68 degree sunny weather while doing yard work.
my top half looks like a damn strawberry,
while my bottom half is as white as cream...
*perverted joke of the day*
strawberries and cream.

ha. okay.
achk.
nevermind.
it sounded funny in my head but now that i've typed it out and actually LOOKED at it,
it looks stupid.
so cross that out.

ah, the beckoning sounds of burping, farting, smelly twelve year olds...
nothing quite like it.

peace out, my friends.
i am being called to show who's the boss on the super nintendo.

i...
so...

ROCK.

i also just discovered that i feel TOTALLY helpless when a pre teen looks at me for help when he's in mid puke.

"what THE HELL do i do?!" ran through my mind,
but this THING inside of me kicked into over drive.
i poured a cup of ginger ale, and made the boy take pepto-bismal caplets.
after he gained some composure,
he took the vomit soaked trash can and towel out onto the back porch,
as i ran him a new bath and offered him girly bubble bath without any future threats of humiliation about it,
then persuaded him to stay in the newly drawn non-bubble bath to "let the medicine kick in."
then, i put his ass to bed with mr. shit breath himself.

so here i sit listening to a mixture of the Juno Soundtrack
and various other songs,
contemplating what just occurred.
it coulda been worse,
especially that its Alex, not Ellis...
one my fellow hyperchondriac.


speaking of being a hyperchondriac,...
i feel a bit better.
not on the outside (because be damned my allergies),
but on the inside.
i feel a bit more complete...
a bit more at peace.
i don't know why,
because i don't know what will happen,
but for whatever reason, i have faith.
maybe this is what the christians talk about?
i don't know.
maybe its just because spring is here?
maybe this isn't a coincidence?
spring is a rebirth,
and its when my birthday is.
Persephone has returned above ground.
on the inside it just feels like whatever's out there,
whatever that driving force is,
is saying to me, "okay, okay kiddo, you're taken care of for a bit. breathe."

plop, plop, fizz, fizz.

okay so today is a lot better.
reconfirming faith can have one helluva effect on one's state of mind.
faith in anything.
in one's own self,
in the world,
in the good,
in friends,
and perhaps even family.
but i think that's perhaps the biggest cookie to chew without choking-
family, that is.
you see,
you can choose your partner,
your lover,
your friends,
even your enemies.
but the one thing, my dears,
that we do not have the leisure to pick and choose is our family.
being the oddball, quirky, OCD-control freak that i am,
this unnerves me.
i can change my scenery,
just as i did.
i can change my lovers,
just as i (painfully and blissfully) obviously did.
i can even change my friends,
but somehow the truest of all friends seem to follow you through those scenery changes.
every Hall has its Oates,
every Blanche has her Dorothy,
and every Pooh has its Piglet.
somehow it is within these scenery changes,
within these chapters,
that a character begins to come into ones' self,
via self awareness.
in that journey,
the standards in which we inexplicably compare ourselves to
are our parents.
and i think we go through these stages in which we inadverdantly loathe ourselves
because of this.
my therapist would probably disagree, but whatever.
i am learning that it is okay that this man,
was,...
he was my father.
whether i like it or not.
i cannot change that fact.
i cannot change who or what he was,
which is painfully obvious.
it is ironic to say that the embicile who was ashamed of me
was the one who did the embarrassing deed instead of me.
i am embarrassed and ashamed to HAVE to say he was my father.
but you know what?
i can change me.
that, i can do.
the only thing i shared with him was i have half of his DNA.
and that is ALL.
and you know what?
though the little girl inside of me is still saddened by every aspect of this,
the adult that i am becoming (begrudgingly) is very pleased that that is ALL i shared with him.
what a relief that is.

...
plop, plop, fizz, fizz.

saving grace.

One time around the block
2 times around the clock
3 times don't cross the little lady

So pretty & oh so bold
got a heart full of gold on a lonely road
she said "I don't even think that God can save me"

(Am I) gaining ground
(Am I) losing face
(Am I) lost & found by Saving Grace
Thankful for the gift My Angel's gave me

Born alone
We die alone
'n I'm just sittin' here by the phone
waitin for the Lord to send my callin'

Street wise from the boulevard
Jesus only knows that she tries too hard
She's only tryin' to keep the sky from fallin'

Any man says it's Heaven & Hell
Prob'ly got somethin' useless to sell
You ask me if I'm saved but what's it to ya?

Blow a quarter
cop another eighth
you're runnin' out of high, you're losin' your faith
Throw your hands up & scream halleluiah

halleluiah x4 Amen

One time around the sun
another year older and my work ain't done
it's time for me to write the final chapter

Deal the cards & roll the dice
sex drugs & rock n roll are my only vice
tryin' to figure out just what's here after

halleluiah x6 Amen

so together, but so broken up inside.

okay so let's have an update.
i went home to Florence and had a fabulous time.
friends and family always warm the heart.
our friend, matt, came down yesterday and took some amazing pictures
which will be posted later.
therapy...
therapy.
evidently, i am doing well in the grieving process,
but not so well in actually facing the residual anger issues.
you see,
while my Y Chromosome DNA Donor was alive and kickin
i had all of my anger issues tucked away nicely in this little corner in my mind.
its been collecting dust for approximately 26 years and has been perfectly nonchalant,
which has suited me and my life quite perfectly.
you see, it was because he was alive was why it was so content just fermenting in the corner.
there was always a .00000001% chance of things actually being resolved.
now, with that chance utterly dissipated, it isn't okay anymore.
it has festered into a rather unsightly boil.
it cannot be ignored any longer.
so in the forthcoming therapy sessions, this will be a pugnacious discussion, no doubt.
the therapist paralleled the trauma i sustained from this "specimen" to PTSD .
i doubt it was that serious, as i was not sexually abused by him.
but the things that i have witnessed, the things that i have perceived,...
it is and was traumatic to me.
when i was hitting my prepubescent stage,
my stepmother went and brought me bras to try on,
but made me model them in front on him,
and he squeezed them, as in 'the girls', all the while laughing at me.
the screams that i heard from her bedroom will forever pierce my eardrums.
the forceful grabbing of my hair and yanking it to tell me reba was a slut...
no child should endure.
and i think that is why i am so adamant about wanting to have children.
i want to give my child what he couldn't (well perhaps, wouldn't) give to me.
i don't think that my wife comprehends that.
i know she doesn't want children,
as she feels she isn't fit for it,
combined with her age.
and i DO understand that.
i do assimilate her rationale.
i firmly believe with all of my heart and soul that in order to heal all of the infliction caused by this imbecile, this is what i need/want to do.
selfish as it may be,
i feel an inner calling for this,...
something that goes deeper than the soul.
i want to undo the catastrophe left in the path of his wake.
i want to make this a better world.
my secret obsession is reading lesbian TTC blogs.
and that doesn't help matters any.
after this entire april fools' joke fiasco, my mom mentioned that i'd better not ever get pregnant.
my retort to that is that medical science has advanced in light years as opposed to the 80's circa era.
or i could adopt.
listen,
i love my wife beyond what words can construe.
she has been there for me when i was truly at my rock bottom,...
but this,....this calling,....this thirst goes deeper than i can try to even convey to you.
i don't want to lose her because there is no one else i want to have a family with.
when i dance in this reverie of my ideal family,
i see me and her and a child.
that makes my heart whole.
it makes my soul whole.
its like, everything inside of me would unite and FINALLY be on the same page.
i do not want to lose her, but i cannot ignore this...ambition...this purpose.
i am torn.
torn into pieces, as kelly clarkson sings.
and it weighs heavily on my heart and soul.
everything works itself outs.
it always does.
and everything has its reason.
i am an avid believer in those.
i have to be.
i have to hold that faith...
what else is there?

"I told you everything
Opened up and let you in
You made me feel alright
For once in my life
Now all that's left of me
Is what I pretend to be
So together, but so broken up inside
'Cause I can't breathe
No, I can't sleep
I'm barely hangin' on

Here I am, once again
I'm torn into pieces
Can't deny it, can't pretend
Just thought you were the one
Broken up, deep inside
But you won't get to see the tears I cry..."

happy april fools, bitch.

i haven't really felt like writing lately...
i've been battling myself to not withdraw into my head.
nothing good can come from that.
i'm trying to talk it all out.
so, let me catch you up...
my biggest fear came true,
biological warefare in the shower, redux.
those six words sum it up best, i think.
i managed to mischeviously and rather wickedly to get my parents involved in my april fool's joke on my sister.
she still is unaware of this.
i tell you,
artificial insemination is a bitch!!
lol.
yea, right.
my mom got all serious and was like,
"you'd better not ever get pregnant."
well damn, talk about putting a pin to my balloon.
maybe i'll consider adoption...?
i'll cross that bridge when i get to it.
i've decided how i'm to fill my summer this year,
playing susie homeaker to my beloved,
with lunch fresh out our garden.
perhaps a bit of another venture on that avenue, too.
i've been catching up on all my schoolwork for the past few days
and my head feels all fried.
fried like mid june- forgot to put sunblock on- and you've been on the beach since 10 am and its now 5 pm- kinda fried.
mmm,...
i hear summertime calling my name.
that means i must cross the hurdle of turning 26.
/sigh.
arthritis, tendonitis,
back issues, allergies from hell,
and other unmentionables...
oh joy.
and i saw where NKOTB are coming back from the boy band beyond for a 20 year reunion.
god damn, i'm old.
/sigh.
jackass and harley have been doing well.
jackson's infection has faded away, thank bob.
anyways, here are some pictures i feel speak for themselves.
peace out, whores.

wiley bastards.

things have a funny way of always working out for the best.
our fuck up (okay well, mostly mine) isn't gonna throw us out of whack as much as we thought.
damn at&t.
it turns out liz is going to europe this summer,
and her friend shauna gets to see my wife #2 this summer.
me?
well the wife (#1) and i are building a house.
i'm super excited about that,
but i'd be lying if i said i wasn't jealous of liz and shauna.
this weekend should be nice and relaxing.
i was avoiding giving Honey a To-Do list,
but Harley's escape from base camp has inevitably provided her with such a list.
she will be ecstatic about such pleasures.
speaking of such animal escapades,
some frisky lil squirrel has been digging in my potted flowers on our front porch.
not cool, not cool.
tomorrow, pepper corns will go in that flower pot.
yea, we'll see who's asshole hurts then.
snarky assed bastard.
vengence will be mine.

coo-coo for coa-coa puffs.

gazing over their graves for the first time wasn't as easy as i thought,
nor was finding out through the grapevine that apparently i am an aunt.
my therapist says i must change the dialogue in my head.
i must find a way to just be okay with it all.
i am shyly determined to find a way, yet i can feel myself retracting.
i don't want that,
but sometimes it just seems so much easier to just withdraw
and keep to myself.
i even told Honey that i don't want a birthday party this year.
just feed this pig her freeman's bakery cake in my trough and we'll be alright.
i just completed a jm barrie book
and shakespeare's a midsummer night's dream.
such classics have a way of reigniting the imagination of us mortal fools.
Honey worked in the yard and it is spectacular!!
i'll have to post pictures soon.
its overdue for some puppy pictures anyways.
anyways, me and my fruit loops are going to bed.

mindless ramblings.

evidently my saying,
"my dad killed himself and his wife in a drunk driving accident" with a smile stretched from ear to ear upon my face
not ONLY makes him NOT a victim,
but expresses my anger towards him,
so says my therapist.
niiice.
and this took all those years of college to determine?
she suggested my "leaving the door open" to thou "grandmother who hangeth up on her grand daughter".
i'm unsure if i agree to that...
i mean, the cons outweigh the pros on this scales, so says my own little libra.
and i am inclined to believe that!!
posted within this entry are two pics the wife took of mah new hair.
i'm feelin the color but not so much the big circa 1980s big hair.
yeah. not cool.
i'm lookin a bit porkish too,
i'm debating on trying to find the lazy person's diet.
/sigh.
yeah.
whatever.
thank good my honey was okay tonight,
it sker'd me so terribly that i ran across the yard AT NIGHT with NO FLASHLIGHT.
mind you, its just about springtime, bitches.
yea,...
if THAT ain't devotion, i dunno what the fuck is.
i'm tired, i'm sleepy,
so i'mma go read one of mah three new books i bought.
word to ya mama, whores,
peace.

my darling...

i hope you should know that until i draw my last breath,
you will always have a soft place to fall.

this weekend.

a spontaneous trip to myrtle beach to see a car show,
a FABULOUS thunderstorm on the way from mb to florence,
to the fat black chicks in the chinese restaurant,
the waitress who couldn't recollect the name of which grandmother she knew,
my obvious emotions when revealing that dear old pops offed himself and his wife,
to my glorious stoned aunts and cousin,...
it was a GREAT short trip home.
this week shall be busy...
tomorrow is our one year wedding anniversary.
we are going out to eat to celebrate.
tuesday i have therapy (thank goddess),
wednesday i have an appointment with my math teacher,
and thursday i have my social security appointment.
then, there's this weekend.
oh and btw,
i got muh hair did.
i'll get the wife to take a pic tomorrow so yall can see.
peace out, whores.

pictures.

dogs and biological warfare.

the loyalty of a dog can exceed beyond anything.
i am so lucky to have my two babies,
i'd just be devestated without them.
harley is such a pussified mama's boy,
whilst jackass is mr fiercely independent Loki, reincarnated.
i'm so irritated with the vet we chose for jackass's surgery.
you get what you pay for, i assume.
his hoo-hoo is infected.
get this,...because he's licking it.
although we're supposed to "discourage" it,
the vet doesn't supply the 'cone collar.'
fucking bastards.
he best be glad honey went and not i.
yea.
i'd have been the bitch from hell.
grrrr....
anyways,
have you ever been experiencing an intimate moment with your better half,
only to be the victim of biological warfare?
jeebus effin shit,...that'll make terrorists talk.
seriously.
oh mah gawd.
i'm being treated for a respiratory infection from that unfathomable stench.
pray for my speedy recovery,
thank you.

memories.

isn't it funny how a sound or smell can destroy dams that held back memories,
some we tried to forget and hid frantically,
while some father time has called upon.
my honey unintentionally released a flood of those very memories i thought i'd permenantly deleted.
its okay because she didn't mean to, hell, she didn't know what the snap of the belt would do to me.
only four people knew,
and two are now dead.
as the belt snapped,
i stumbled backwards into the corner and my eyes shut as a movie of those damned memories played.
no child should ever hear those sounds.
she was just a child...an innocent child.
...anyways.
i hope i can sleep tonight,
because last night's nightmares held me captive as the gory scenes played out.
it was sickening,
horrid,
disgusting,
and horrifying.
anyways, here's movie numero deux.
unmute the speakers, and listen up.
i know its long and rather boring,
but here are my reba/kelly concert pictures (in sequential order),
with two of my ALL TIME FAVORITE kelly clarkson songs to help speed things up for ya.

turn up ya volume and enjoy, friends.

its raining, its pouring...

the stresses and worries keep mounting,
seemingly unsurmountable for the time being.
school,
the damn fish tank,
this trust fund stuff,
my cell phone,
my "sister"...
what will be the straw to break this camel's back?

fakin it.

i am craving a good read.
i want another book that can rival Running With Scissors.
the sadistic humor titillates me to no end.
maybe i'm craving it because right now i'm feeling quite cynical.
i've reached that stage in the "grieving process."
i have become (temporarily) cynical and quite bitter.
i could say so many thing to lash out at various people whom i want to sting.
but it would accomplish nothing,
and merely spread the venom already spewed by the poor excuse of a daddy.
yes, i am bitter.
bitter as hell at the moment.
it will soon pass,
most likely after aunt flo leaves.
somewhere in the hallways of my mind,
i question whether or not justice was truly served.
i mean, really.
maybe because i don't believe in the whole heaven or hell thing,
maybe that's why i am having a difficult time
in believing if justice was served.
i mean, i can justify my reasons for which i question it,
but it would fall on deaf ears to those i just want to stand atop the roof and scream it to.
(my wife excluded, because the wonderful rock of sanity that she is,
understands it all and i have undying gratitude, love, and respect for her.)
i hope this phase soon passes, because i do not admire it.
maybe i can be a faker, like him,
and just pretend to believe in an almighty entity so that i won't go mad wondering if justice was served.
but then,
i'd be no better than him.
i find christians dispicable.
in the words of Idgie Threadgoode from Fried Green Tomatoes,

I'VE SEEN THOSE SAME PEOPLE
OVER AT CHURCH ON SUNDAY...
OVER AT THE RIVER CLUB
EVERY OTHER NIGHT
OF THE WEEK,
DOIN' ANYTHING
BUT PRAY.

buncha fakers.
i recall this one time back in 2000,
i went with my friend to her youth group at a nondenominational church.
every wednesday they'd sing and carry on,
feeling "the spirit" and crying and waving their arms into the air.
i will admit,
the atmosphere in the room was very charged.
very inspirational, at best.
then there were those who'd "spread the word" about saving themselves for marriage,
(which i don't disagree with)
BUT, the only thing they were spreading were their legs and STDs.
i remember sitting there singing these ridiculous songs
wondering if anybody else in there was faking it like me.
ha.

/sigh.

enough of this.
my hands hurt and i am tired of typing,
so g'night.

babies.

click HERE to see mah babies.

dogs, baseball, fish, and sisters.

the dogs are healing nicely.
jackass was sleepy all day yesterday and his incision aint pretty.
harley's teeth were actually clean already (so said the vet tech),
but his breath is WONDERFUL now!!
wahoo!!
...wonder how long that'll last?

because of jackass,
i couldn't go to Flotown this weekend.
gotta keep a close eye on him.
sucks too,
because alex's baseball games started this weekend.
in the words of dorothy,
"this is one of those times where you've got to pretend to love your kids..."

our fish tank is beginning to turn green again.
guess i'll clean it out again,
and start from scratch AGAIN.
hey, we got about 3 to 4 weeks this time.

so my 15 year old sister got into a minor fender bender
in front of a certain red antique house in Florence.
no coincidences, right?

well my Mama talks to a relative of my step mom's,
who tells her all about my 21 year old sister.
apparently she can't talk to me because she doesn't know her head from her ass.

then i happen to see her myspace header,
and it says "rip mommy & daddy"
my bp shot the hell up.

i am so hurt, mad, and down right angry at her.
i mean, wtf,
i can see her true colors now.
just like dad didn't think much of me,
she doesn't either.
screw that.

and ya know,
its not about the money.
i never had it,
so it makes no damn difference to me that i'm not gonna have it.
but shit.


this makes me question her integrity and sincerity
all these years when we tried to be friends.
her actions (rather, lack thereof) as of now
make me think she only had something to do with me while they were alive
just to spite them,
not because she actually cared.
i'm just another expendable piece of shit to her,
just like dad thought of me.

all i know as of now,
is that i am hurt that she has ostrasized me for whatever reason she could possibly have.


she has burned this bridge.

just like he did.

update.

today is baby's one year birthday!!
aww.
seems like a damn lie.
on the 6th, he gets his balls chopped off.
happy birthday, son!!

my back has decided it is time to flake out again.
the wondrous joys of being incapable of standing up alone are phenominal!!

the trip home to florence was GREAT!!
we got to see matt but not ashes.
i wish we'd gotten to see her too.
my family is (psycho, but) great.
my brothers are too damn old.
gawd, let's not start on my sister!!

on sunday i checked the level in our tank,
which did clear up somewhat.
the water did soften up,
but the nitrate/nitrite levels were SKY HIGH,
and the PH was still above 7.6.
so i did do another round of the easy balance.
right now its just milky,
but hey, anything's better than neon green!!

i must retire to mah lazy boy,
with a stinky breath dog,
because my back is hurting again.

and because i am a shameless puppy mommy,
i dutifully instruct you to look HERE.

ॐ

sleep deprivation shall not get the better of me!!
slimy bastard.

/sigh.

on the up and up,
i am excited about going home today.

our fish tank.
goddess bless it.
what is that prayer the christians say?
something to the effects of:

"God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things that should be changed, and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other."

yea well, i may not be a christian,
but damn, i could sure use that montra to aide me in my aquarium woes.

ramblings, part deux.

much to the m-i-l and lovey's dismay,
kitty-kitty is here to stay.
for an avid dog lover i sure have grown quite fond of her.
yes.
i am a proud cat owner.
(its only a corner of hell that hath frozeth over.)

i am PMSing like crazy,
which has me all sentimental and crappola.
time to confess,
i have this secret addiction online...
i have a...certain...genre of blogs that i read daily.
and reading them in this time of month really isn't healthy.
its like carousing target when you only have $2 in cash,
payday is in 5 days, and you're almost outta gas.
its really isn't condusive.
yet there i am,
daily, the lesbian parenting blog addict that i am.
actually to be specific,
i am totally mesmerized by lesbians who are TTC.
the daily documentation of it all...
is so amazingly beautiful.

lovey says she doesn't want children.
part of me can understand that because of her...*ahem*
"years of wisdom".
but then there is a part of me that is drawn to it blindly.
like the sea turtles innately drawn back to the shore on which they were birthed.
the moon guides them.
i'm sure they don't know nor understand why they return to the same shores,
they just go where their bodies lead them.
and my body tells me that one day i''ll be a mommy.
i hope like crazy that lovey will choose to partake in that,
because truthfully,
i think that we would make an amazing little family.
there is nothing more in this entire world that she could do to make me more happy than making a family with me.

she's so cute when she gets frustrated with harley & jackson
(and yes, i realize that dogs are vastly different than children,
but romantasize with me and go with the flow).
us in our quiet, quaint little country home,
dogs, and (now) a kitty-kitty,...
i can't think of anything to better complete my life or my life with lovey.

now don't misconstrue what i am saying,
i dont wish to run out there to look for a baby daddy so lovey and i can be mommies by next year, no.
first comes school,
maturity,
then so forth.
i've often heard that if you wait until you're financially ready for a baby,
then it'll never happen.
i just hope against all hopes that lovey will choose to remain by my side for this when the time is right.

anyways,...
for now we have a fish tank that we (hopefully) have found the CORRECT solution to fixing.
i swear, that thing has me feelin dumber than f. gump himself.

i'm super excited about the remaining part of this week.
we get to see mason,
and we are going home to florence!!
i'm SO excited about that.
i miss my family something fierce.
i know lovey gets all flustered with all the chaos,
but i love it.
i know i'm home when i hear the boys yelling and carrying on.
(albeit that damn dog can go to hell.)
we're gonna get to see my friends, and family.
woohoo!!

i'm sleepy, so i'm going to bed.
peace out, whores.

ramblings.

i am so tired today.
i don't know why,
because my fat ass sat around all day until it was time for me to go meet my teacher at school.

/sigh.

we are going home this weekend.
yay!!
i can't wait.
i'm missing my family.
while we're there,
we're gonna get to see some of my friends.
i LOVE my friends,
they ROCK!!

honey made a horrid egg salad today without forwarning me.
that was just WRONG.
i opened the fridge and thought i was gonna barf right there.
that shit smells god awful.
i'd rather smell a pig's fart.
yuck.

i cant wait to get my hair did.
cut & color this time.
woohoo!!

anyways i cant think of anything else to say,
so i'm out like a queen at a Bette Midler concert.

to my bella.

more than you'll ever know.


I know living with me ain't always easy
I dam up emotions some men just let flow
But girl when you're not by my side I feel a part of me has died
'Cause I love you more than you'll ever know

More than life more than I've ever loved before
It's absurd and beyond words
I couldn't want you more
And when I try to pour my hear out to you
I'm not sure it shows
That I love you more than you'll ever know

I'm sure you've heard it said hearts have windows
But mine has doors a painful past has closed
Unless someday they open wide revealing feelings locked inside
I'll love you more than you'll ever know

More than life more than I've ever loved before
It's absurd and beyond words
I couldn't want you more
And when I try to pour my hear out to you
I'm not sure it shows
That I love you more than you'll ever know

Even when I pour my heart out to you
I'm not sure it shows
That I love you more than you'll ever know
Yes I love you more than you'll ever know

state of grace.

ah, what can i say?
i did a lil gardening,
a lil shopping,
a lotta procrastinating,...
and i feel better.
about damn time.
one weenie's losin his balls,
while the other (hopefully) is losing the shit breath.
all on the same day.
goddess help me,
i'm not gonna know what to think or what to do
with a weenie free house.
gah.
tonight i had to do the strangest thing.
i've come to realize that my dad's mom won't write the letter
to the coroner requesting the toxicology report.
so i did it.
it felt SO ODD to write the following:

"My name is Sarah F. Anderson, and I am the eldest biological daughter of Richard R. Anderson. My father was killed, alongside his wife (Terry Anderson), on December 26th, 2007.
I am requesting a copy of my father’s toxicology report, as I am curious as to what his blood alcohol level was at his TOD."

odd as shit.
just looking at the words typed on my computer screen,
then thinking about the action itself...
i'm writing to the coroner for my genetic donor's toxicology report.

i think part of me has concluded
that i am glad i wasn't close to him,
because i'd really be losin my sanity right now if i was.

after a self imposed week long break from all that hate filled chaos,
i called to check in on her.
i think she thrives on the pain.
maybe its because that's the only thing she can feel.
people can get addicted to pain.
i don't know.
theories abound,
no concrete evidence to prove otherwise.

right now, i am okay.
i am surrounded by my loved ones, friends, and family.
living in my own state of grace.

googlie bear.

so i'm getting a lil better.
i dropped my Bio 101.
i didn't want to do that,
but in that particular class,
memorization is a pivotal point of succeeding that class.
especially with the grade that i strive for.
and with all this SHIT going on inside my head,
it just is not possible right now for me to devote the necessary time to the class.
my doctor complied with my wishes about elevating my medication's dosage.
my side effect is a toned down version of tourette's jerking/spasms/ticks.
i can feel it so it feels very obvious to me,
but another person can't really see it...
so atleast i don't look too Corky-ish.
i am in the process of finding a suitable, sane therapist for my much needed counseling sessions.
patience.
you know, i am coming to realize that relationships are an amazing thing.
obviously it can apply to romantic (relationships),
it can apply to familial and friendship relationships.
i am so unbelievably grateful and appreciative of my wife.
she has soothed my soul during this hard time
in ways i cannot even begin to describe.
i know without a doubt, unequivocally that i am loved by that lady.
my love and appreciation for her runs so deep into me that it flows through my soul.
my friends,...
friends who have been there from the start of it all...
it is those friends who i hold most dear.
it is those friends who have willingly and selflessly provided warmth and compassion to me during this time.
true friends are hard to come by in the god forsaken world in which we habitate.
i am blessed to be able to say that i have quite a few of those,
and not only that,
but i have friends who've been there for years and years on end.
people who love you don't restrict you or push you down.
they accept you for who and what you are and only want the best for you in life.
i have all of that.
i don't know what i did in my past life to have deserved this,
but it must've been great.
thank you to whomever is up there.
thank you for my life,
for my love,
my family,
my friends,
...and begrudgingly,...
my dogs.

progress.

doing better.

yay!!

looking forward to this weekend.

friends know how to make ya heart smile.

air.

god bless reba.

thank goddess.
i FEEL it.
good emotion.
i was scared i wouldn't be able to find it soon.
let the healing begin.
i can feel it inside out.

"love revival,"
"beautiful disaster,"
and "how blue."

wonder years.

remember back in the wonder years,
in our childhood,
the tilt-a-whirl rides at the fair?
that's what it feels like.
the world is spinning just a lil bit too fast for me,
and has me somewhat disoriented.
i just want it to slow down,
just to get my balance.
the realization is that it won't.
yada yada yada "the world aint gonna stop for my broken heart."
this is change,
and change is never ending.
from beneath the murky waters,
i can see the hands reaching in to pull me up.
pulling me up for a breath of air,
for life.
i don't understand this darkness.
i don't like it and wish for it to vanish.

i am dazed and confused.
humans sustain life by performing behavior patterns.
in a sense, it can be deduced that to have a pattern is to have life.
even down to an atom,
a strand of mitochondrial dna...
its all patterns.
and as ocd as i am when it comes to patterns,
i cannot find that pattern of stable footing.

so many thoughts...
am i being too hard on myself?
am i using this as a crutch?
am i too happy about this?
am i too disapointed?
is my anger correctly placed?

in a way, i feel alone, but in a way i don't.
no side of either family gets my position.
one submerged in denial and the other in resentment (and rightly so in the latter).
my honey has not left my side,
holding my hand,
and lending an ear.


joe cocker springs up in my ear,
and i think its the perfect way to end this blog.


With A Little Help From My Friends
(Lennon/McCartney)

WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I SANG OUT OF TUNE
WOULD YOU STAND UP AND WALK OUT ON ME
LEND ME YOUR EARS AND I'LL SING YOU A SONG
I WILL TRY NOT TO SING OUT OF KEY

I GET BY WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS
I JUST KEEP TRYING WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS
I WANT TO GET HIGH WITH MY FRIENDS
I JUST HOLD ON WITH MY FRIENDS

WHAT DO I DO WHEN MY LOVE IS AWAY
(DOES IT WORRY YOU TO BE ALL ALONE)
HOW DO I FEEL BY THE END OF THE DAY
(ARE YOU SAD BECAUSE YOUR ON YOUR OWN)


CHORUS

(DO YOU NEED ANY BODY)
I NEED SOME BODY TO LOVE
(DO YOU NEED ANY BODY)
ALL I NEED IS SOMEONE TO LOVE


CHORUS

(WOULD YOU BELEIVE IN A LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT)
I'M CERTAIN IT HAPPENS ALL THE TIME
(WHAT DO YOU SEE WHEN YOU TURN OFF THE LIGHTS)
I DON'T SEE MUCH

CHORUS

(DO YOU NEED ANYBODY)
I NEED SOMEBODY TO LOVE)
ALL I NEED IS SOMEBODY TO LOVE

CHORUS

composing grace.

its like a parasite, really.
it keeps sucking and sucking until there's nothing left.
i wish it'd just go ahead and damnit just die.
die like him.
i hate that i am in mourning for a monster.
i fucking hate that.
i even hate mourning that two bit trash he called his wife.
i feel like harry in that one scene where lord voldemort sucks the soul out of harry with his wand,
the scene where that white light comes up and out of harry.
it kinda feels like that.
but in slow motion.

i keep referring back to my tat on my back.
"strength."
i previously thought i embodied that notion.
but this...
this situation has brought me to my knees on the inside.
if i was still a kid,
this would be when i merely wiped the dirt off my knees and ass and got up to carry on with the damn thing.
but here there is no dirt.
i wish the memories were dirt,
so that they could blow away like a desert sand storm.
blown away into oblivion to never be recalled upon.

i know in my heart going to the funeral was the right thing to do.
i was supposed to have done that.
i told myself i was rising above the past,
that this was right.
my presense was right.
but i also know in my heart,
that had the roles been reversed,
he wouldn't have shown his face at mine.
that pride.
it can do funny things to a man.

i can't say that i now feel like an orphan,
because i have steve.
but the one man that i pined for,
i pined for his love,
his affection,...
he is gone.
what a coward that mighty lion was when he tried to drive home that night.
but it will be somewhere in this day,
here,
now,
somewhere here where i will find that strength.
no man behind a curtain will tempt me with false closure,
for there is no "see-all" and "be-all" in this universe.
but in this place i call home,
i will garner my weakened strength on my own,
somewhere in this state of grace.

"its the weak made strong,
its finding what you're missing,
was right there all along,
its an open road,
to a better place,
its a life worth living,
in the state of grace."

weenies.

i highly suspect that weenie dog numero deux
has committed a highly foul offense,
because his recent cuddly behavior strikes me odd.
his fierce independence has always kept him preoccupied
from providing kissy kissies to mommy number one.

but i shamefully regret to inform you
that our suspisions of chiweenie-butt hiding in the closet were true.
now understand, that as his puppy mommy,
my unconditional love for him does not end at his coming out.
it ends at his incestuous desires to make mad weenie love to his brother.
he will be undergoing a psych eval and treatment from the finest facility SC has to offer.
the family is requesting privacy in this dark and highly personal tragedy.

lunacy.

i have diagnosed myself with a stomach ulcer.
WebMD works wonders for hypercondriacs.
though i shamefully admit to being one,
this...this one is real.
spasms.
crippling spasms.
that reminds me,
i need to go buy that hypercondriac book for a certain aunt of mine.

so jack ass is being cuddly.
he is not a cuddly dog.
harley is a cuddly dog.
his fetch games and kisses are tempting me to say
perhaps he has the "mama's boy" trait in him after all.

i have a grandmother who is not fairing well,
and an adopted grandfather who is not either.
i also have a Mawmaw who's
"side is still buldging,
but its okay as long as you can still bitch about it."
(per her dearly departed sister.)
ah, the southern lady.
there's nothing quite like that unique poignant grace.

trying.

i don't know why,
but i am slipping.
the ground's not so stable under my feet.
i don't want to be depressed about him.
he doesn't deserve it.
nowhere to go but forward.

don't be hatin.

i have the best, most cuddly,
snoodle bug, snoodley butt,
foofy foo, tator tot, pookie,
darlin, honey, sugah pie,
honey pot, googley goo,
and googley bear EVER.

EVER.

hallmark be damned.

i hate hallmark movies, i really do.
so what did i do tonight?
i watched the one i recorded on our DVR.
The Russell Girl was good.
your everyday standard, tear jerker Hallmark movie.
the summation is:

Everyone in Sarah Russell’s small hometown knows her story, but no one is talking about it. Sarah, the picture-perfect girl-next-door, took a job in Chicago thinking she could escape memories of a tragic accident she blames on herself. But when she receives some unsettling news, Sarah decides to return home and try to heal old wounds.

As understanding and support come from unexpected sources, Sarah’s story becomes a journey toward forgiveness and hope for the future.

the story has its similarities.
a bit unsettling, actually.
she pushes what she needs and wants away because she doesn't think she deserves it.
she thinks she's unworthy.
she thinks her cancer is the product of karma for what happened.
that's interesting to me.
if that line of thinking proves true,
then was that tree and the windshield karma for my father?
everything that he caused over the decades to certain specific individuals,
all the pain and heartache that has lasted for decades,
is all that supposed to be erased and righted by the tree and the windshield?
i try my best to not dwell on this thing,
as i have truly lost nothing.
but it keeps finding its way to the forefront of my thoughts.
all the lies,
all the deception,
the pain,
the hurt,
the anger,
the disapointments,...
i am sorry, but that tree and that windshield just cannot undo all that he created.
granted, the asshole can't create anymore pain and decadence for anyone,
but still.
they are not magical erasers.
there are no do overs in this life.
there are second chances,...
and third and fourth and fifth...
but when you make an discerning conscious decision to ignore and/or refuse those chances,
then does that make one ignorant or "just plain stupid"?
addicts cannot reap their given chances for help.
greed was his addiction.
and pride.
he didn't care what it cost him in life,
but what it cost him was his life.

reba and kelly, ellis and obama.

Where do I begin?!

First of all, I wish to extend my deepest thanks and never ending appreciation to Joey for his amazing generosity.
Words cannot express the depths of my gratitude.
Your gifts will never be forgotten.

Everything has its place and time, so they say.
This adage could not have been truer on the day of January 25, 2008.

After being totally and completely entranced by the "Reba room,"
a tank of gas, a quick stop at the Huddle House to check up on
Billy, we were on our way to Winston-Salem North Carolina for
our fifth row "Reba & Kelly Clarkson, 2 Worlds 2 Voices TOUR 2008."

On the ride up there, hell for that matter, the entire time, we were
the biggest most *psychotic* fanatical Reba dorks around.

After a scary ride through the ghetto, and *stalking* observing the
tour buses, we settled upon an IHOP for food. Then it was back
across the street to the convention center.

There were two radio DJ booths in front of the convention center
for the early birds, like us. At the first booth, was a raffle that we
entered to win random prizes, including backstage passes. But the drawing would be at seven,
and we were not about to stand in the 35° weather for about 40 minutes, so back to the car we went.

However, on the way back to the car we heard the second radio
DJ announce their contest for backstage passes. We looked at
each other and made a beeline for that booth. Turns out it was a
karaoke contest. They would play a few seconds of part of a
Reba song, turn the song off, and you had to sing as much as you
could, getting the lyrics correct. Well I knew that this would not
be a problem, as the two of us happened to be the biggest Reba
dorks either side of the Mason Dixon.

The lady in front of us had the song Fancy,… which everybody
knows. But what did she do? She BOMBED it. Like, seriously. This
woman should be ashamed to call herself a Reba fan.

Then Joey gets up there. His random song was Little Rock. My
friends, this is a 1986 release. To no surprise, he nailed it. And I
mean that he nailed it like Tommy Lee nailed Pamela Anderson. I
was standing about 3 to 5 feet in front of him screaming the lyrics
along with him like a damn fool. And what happens next? Wham
bam, thank ya ma'am...he wins us backstage passes to meet Reba.

Little did we know, that we would also be meeting Kelly as well.

Though he had me beat on the number of Reba concerts
attended, this would be my second time meeting a Reba, his first.
You can only imagine the sheer pandemonium that followed.


Fast forwarding… Reba is as beautiful as she was in person in '97.
No I take that back, more beautiful. And good goddess, Kelly is
smokin. The thighs on her…could make me believe in God. There
is no better high than meeting the Reba in person. None.


So let me fast forward a little bit more... the concert was
phenomenal. Only the truest of Reba fans who have attended her
concerts in recent years would know that her voice just can't hit
the notes that it once could. But my dears, Kelly brought out the
best in Reba. Mrs. McEntire once again has managed to resurrect
the emotion and the heartiness back into her concerts. The
concert left you lacking for nothing. It can be said that this
particular concert can be undoubtedly compared to the Reba
concert circa the 1990s. It was simply amazing.

(Pictures will be posted at a later time,
as I have a Bio 101 test tomorrow that I have failed to study for.
Yeah, I know. Boo on me.

"Oh wait, what was I busy doing, you ask? Oh I was having a little
pow-wow time with mah buddies Reba and Kelly Clarkson. What
were YOU doing? Yeah, that's what I thought.")

Needless to say, when I crawled into my bed at 3:30 a.m., I was
one happy tired little white girl.

Now, I must do some bragging on my twin brothers. On Saturday
they were in Columbia to go to the zoo when they stopped in at
Harpers restaurant for a bite to eat. Who walks in? Barack
Obama. Yeah. Ellis was the one who spoke to Obama. He even
made it on NBC Nightly News. That is the national news, yall.
Then, a reporter from the Boston Globe interviewed him.
Underneath this is the story. (However, the picture is Ellis's REINACTMENT of the face Obama made when Ellis
asked him the question he asked.)

I am the happiest girl in the world.

Peace and Love,
Sarah.



Obama gives diners a lunch rush

Email|Link|Comments (0) Posted by Scott Helman, Political Reporter January 26, 2008 03:06 PM




COLUMBIA, S.C. -- On today's lunch menu: Soup, salad, and Barack Obama.

Diners at Harper's Restaurant just off Columbia's downtown got a special visit
today from Obama, who was making a final pitch for votes as South Carolina
Democrats went to the polls. He spent about a half-hour greeting the lunch
and brunch crowd, stopping by nearly every table to pose for photographs
and exchange pleasantries.

"I might get to shake hands with the future president!" one woman said
excitedly into her cell phone as Obama arrived. As Obama began to work his
way around the room, he approached a family gathered around a big table and
said, "How's it going, everybody?" Then he grabbed a white napkin off their
table and wiped his hands. "I got a little juice on me," he said.

Beverly Wilburn, a cook at the restaurant, came out of the kitchen to greet
him. "You got my vote," she told him. "All right." Asked if she had voted yet,
Wilburn said, "As soon as I get off of work."

But Obama didn't have it so easy with Ellis and Alex Caulkins, precocious 12-
year-old twins from Florence, S.C. "Hey, Obama, what are you going to do
about foreign policy?" Ellis asked, telling Obama he didn't seem to be making
many campaign promises. Obama reiterated his vow to get American troops
out of Iraq, then asked the twin boys what they were doing today. Ellis
explained that they were headed to Riverbanks Zoo and Garden in Columbia.
"That sounds fun," Obama said, before the boys' grandfather pulled them away.
"Let's go eat, boys, time to eat," he said.

Back at his table, Ellis said he wasn't satisfied with Obama's answer, but
admitted he had something of an agenda. "I don't want another Democrat," he
said, professing admiration for Rudy Giuliani and John McCain. "We have
enough of them."

Fortunately for Obama, Ellis will be at the zoo today, not at a polling place.

·

fucking pets.

the pain is so intense.
i hate when it gets like this;
cold + rainy.
arthiritis and tendonitis are bitches from bush's asshole.

i am doing an absolutely fabulous job at procrastinating to study for my Bio test.
i just can't seem to get the "get up and go" required to do well in school this semester.
i dunno why.
this shit is taking FOREVER.
and i'm not even halfway done.

rosie got a new puppy.
a 2.5 lbd chihuahua named Missy.
the irony does not escape me.
i am tired of sick dogs, though.

EVERY TIME we turn around,
its barf or shit.
the joys of parenting weenie dogs.
harley is far from perfect, but he's perfect for me.
and jack ass...
/sigh.
he's gonna make me go gray.
i love him with all of my heart,
but i am DONE with weenie dogs.
no more for us.

what i can't stand is when we get so furious at him,
then his puppy dog hound dog eyes give the saddest, most pathetic look either side of the mason-dixon.
he is a ROTTEN dog, i tell you.
and yes, i realize its my fault.
i am perfectly aware of this fact.
he's such a jack ass.

we're on round 37669965469023456789976345678 with our fish tank.
we still have our female betta, shirley.
added to the mix is:
Pea, Chunk, and oh shit, wait, wait...
i forget.
i forgot my goldfish's name.
well fuck.
(ha. 3 second memory. hey! maybe THAT'S why they ram the glass?)

i have the bestest wifey.
my snuggley wuggley takes superb care of me.
i simply adore her.
well,
i adore everything except her farts.
because "LAWD JESUS HELP ME"...
them's some goddess awful smellin things.

FUCKING PETS.

truth and love.

The mysterious wicked van Gogh who visits me every time I bow my head to sleep
paints relentless images on the walls of my eye lids that are hindrances to my state of awareness.
Images of an abuser lying in his casket.
This repeated image fails to conjure up emotions such as fear, hatred, trepidation, and a deeply rooted wretchedness that seems to have once floated past the roots beneath the surface of my soul.
I try to persuade the perpetual image to leave my mind,
Diversion exercises and focal points be damned.
A shocking number of people showed to mourn these two people.
The little girl whose hair he once grabbed to jerk her head so he could yell at her to tell her that Reba McEntire was a whore… that little girl, she wanted to stand up on top of his casket with a megaphone to tell everybody that this man that they were grieving for was a liar.
This was a man who said something so heinous when I was born that nobody will tell me what it was.
This was a man who told me, rather, screamed at me that I was too big of a bitch for him to leave me anything in his will.
This was a man who could barely look at me, if at all.
Just as blood clots cause cardiac infarctions,
his hatred caused his blood to coagulate.
This was a man who prized his barbecue sauce recipe more than his own children.
He was embarrassed to be seen in public with me.
He berated me as a child for the outfits that I would wear these sporadic times he would take me out.
He was livid that I wore cowboy boots to a rodeo.
He was always worried about his precious reputation…
I guess he outdid himself on this one.
When the coroner's report comes back the world will see what a drunken fool he was,
That my accusations over the course of the past 25 years were not just mere rhetoric.
The hatred that once flowed through him was ultimately his demise.
Hatred is like acid,
it will eat you up and kill you.
Thank heavens for my filters,
my mom, my Nana, my Mawmaw, Steve, my friends,…
and my wife.
If it weren't for them I would be spiraling down the rabbit hole towards my demise.
I, too, would have that very hatred clogging my arteries.
Thank heavens for love.
Because in the end my dear friend,
it is both truth and love that will set you free.

ugh.

i hate when i can't sleep.

sucks.

sweet dreams...

my reprieve found its way to me via joey, through a pair of FIFTH row reba and kelly clarkson tickets. yee of little faith.

he sinks lower, i raise higher.

a wonderful friday night composed of a BFF, my honey, her folks and Beaufort stew with Alaskan King Crab Legs thrown into the mix.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0HHBO2yIyk8#

commence the spatula fetching.

the infamous dr finch of running with scissors
could be in the running with the therapist whom i met today.
upon entering the "business" establishment,
one would observe the "staff" huddling outside for relentless smoke breaks.
then the smell of wet dog greets you merrily in the waiting room.
the stench is matched visually by the enormous pet shit & piss stains adorning the decades old carpet.
you couldn't help but to slowly realize that this place seeped with black mold,
aspestos,
and lead paint.
a circus like popcorn machine defied all shades of dhec regulations,
and the receptionist/nurse horribly ignored all hiipa violations.
"ms rudd, thank you for coming to walgreens, you're seroquil approved by the receptionist/nurse has been called in."
this lady (the receptionist/nurse) reminded me of the girl who's smoked for her entire life since her uncle molested her,
so she whored herself out as the lot lizard in the local bar parking lot.
THEN there's her co-worker, Debbie.
let's discuss Debbie.
her husband is being challenged to a paternity test because another woman
told him to deposit his sperm in a cup and she'd do the job herself.
you see, she wanted a baby real bad...
"you get what i'm sayin."
(apparently, this is the summation of all sentences that exit Debbie's lovely trashy mouth.)
one is under the impression that the "doc" lives here,
hires addicts/recovering addicts,
is a pot smoking, anti war left over 50s reject hippie,
who leaves his RX pads in an open box on the floor in front of you.
the decor that gave the office its...*thinks what word to insert here*...
"ecclectic" taste...
is hippie meets trailor trash meets dog hoader meets crack house flavor.
i was expecting a let's see if its a message from god and
"hoist the coiled turd."
somebody fetch my spatula, s'il vous plait.
running with scissors, indeed.

intervention.

apparently, i've been to drug rehab on my "Father's" dime.

*buzz*
intervention needed!!

...oh wait.
the bastard's dead.
you can't have an intervention above a grave.

better.

After much contemplation,
I will be taking the high road out.
After years of building a protective barrier around my childhood memories,
and of thinking that I was invincible to the hatred,
one night of stupid decisions and a painfully short paragraph,
the dam sprung a leak.
Trickling through were forgotten memories,
which are the fabric of my scarred psyche.
Never have I been a real daughter,
so being reduced to a brutal paragraph should not have been as shocking.
His fall from grace was looming overhead,
but his legacy is for all the world to see.
A man who looked down on everybody else
because he was too good for them,
is now the drunken fool who has left a path of destruction more grand than post Katrina New Orleans.
I will not be the dog who chases its tail;
his damning untruthful words about me will not come into fruition.
If this world is a stage,
then I will not be the class dunce for the world to laugh at.
Never my dad,
always my genetic donor.
Thank heavens for my mama’s side of the family,…
for, it weren’t for them, I would have that same hate coursing through my veins.
The following songs have taken an entirely new meaning for me:
I'm a Survivor by Reba McEntire,
Because of You by Kelly Clarkson and Reba McEntire,
and I Wonder by Kellie Pickler.
More than ever, I have become a staunch advocate for the theory of “nurture, not nature.”
My proof are pit bulls.
Just like me, genetically they have a monster lying dormant within them.
If raised in a gentle, loving, firm environment then they can grow up to be the most wonderful, loving pets that one can imagine.
But if raised in a hateful, seething, blood thirsty environment, then no doubt remains that it will grow up to be a monster.
The legacy that this “man” is leaving behind it is not me,
because for the first time in my life I truly FELT it…
I AM BETTER THAN HIM.
I am better than him.

tired.

the first day back to school is always nerve racking.

math class has an overly peppy teacher
and bio is THREE HOURS long.
suck on that, bitches.
5 minutes in there seemed like an hour.
ugh.
thank goodness that suffrage is only once a week.

therapy tomorrow,
hearing aid maintenance in charleston on wednesday...
finally.

"and the world takes a collective sigh of relief." -sophia patrillo

i am tired.

thankful.

but tired.

lunacy at its finest.

'disinherited.'


too much information pouring in.


cheryl is my neutral place, my solice.


decisions.
a fork in the road.
actually, more like a spork.

down the hatch, because here it goes.

relationships.

People keep inquiring about my state of mind,
But I am unsure as to what to say.
Inside my heart and soul lies a melting pot of a potpourri of rampant emotions.
It doesn’t seem right,
People carrying on with their everyday lives
When he and his wife are six feet under.
Not that my life has ever revolved around them,
But this all seems so surreal, unnatural.
It isn’t like a nightmare,
It is more like a hindering thought that is fucking persistent as hell.
Another total burden right now is my teeth.
I broke down today and called my doctor,
Begging him to fit me in asap.
I got some serious antibiotics, painkillers, and snoz spray.
Cheryl has my painkillers,
So there’s no need to worry.
I’ve got to call my therapist tomorrow and start that all over again.
I’m eager to do so.
I do not want to keep this stuff bubbling beneath the surface,
Awaiting a maddening volcanic explosion.
I cannot afford that;
I have too much at stake.
I’m going to put my whole heart into these new sessions,
And throw myself head first into this semester.
I’m doing so good,
I’m proud of myself.
I’m not as far along as I’d like to be,
But that is what progress is for.
I don’t really do New Year’s resolutions.
However, this year is an exception:
I will not drown in the life threatening undertow that is the Barrs.
This year is all about relationships.
Valuing them,
Solidifying them,
And just enjoying them.
Because I have recently concluded that they are what life all about.