Precious Gifts

The last two weeks or so has been really hard on my friends. I have two friends about to lose their moms to strokes. Another friend just found out that his mom has lymphoma.

I feel like I'm a shitty friend. While these aren't super close friends, I've met and spent time with their moms. Both are fun, fabulous women. About a month ago, they both had a stroke in the same week. Both seemed to get better, and were sent home or to a rehab facility. Both have taken horrible turns for the worse. They aren't expected to make it much longer.

If these were close friends, I'd know what to do. As they aren't,  I sit back and send my love and happy thoughts, and cry for totally selfish reasons. Yes, I'm horribly sad for my friends, but I can't NOT think, "what if this was my mom?" That makes me a fucking wreck.

There are two thought places I just can't go, losing my son or losing my mother. If the worst were to happen... I can't imagine ever getting up off the floor. My brain just goes numb.

When I was younger, I couldn't imagine being an adult. I felt certain I would die before I was 18. When that didn't happen, I figured it would be before I was 21, simply because I couldn't imagine myself beyond that point. I now understand why I couldn't... and still don't consider myself a grown-up. But when I look at the "Don't Go There" places.. it's the same numb nothingness.

I don't know how to be there for my friends, as a secondary friend. (I don't say secondary like it's a bad thing.... that's simply the truth of it.) My place is not there, with them.. holding hands and being a shoulder to cry on. There are closer friends who belong there, and are. I just wish I could send my support in a more coherent, unguarded way. Unfortunately, my words of love and support are shallow and choppy because of the guarded place I go when thinking about their situation. It's so hard to turn off the personal aspects and make it all about them.

I've had life shattering loss before. There's nothing anyone can do for you. I don't know if people can give you enough support. I don't know that any support really helps. You have a process and you go through it. Hysteria, pain, the long period of numbness, grief and acceptance, then the healing. Charmin died 23 years ago this October... and I'm still healing. The period of numbness lasted the majority of my 8th grade year and I have very few memories if it. The healing has come in spurts. Many times I've felt that I was over it, then it all comes back. That's probably natural in this sort of situation.

I so badly want to tell them that they have a rare opportunity. While watching someone die slowly sucks beyond belief, it gives you the chance to make your peace with each other and express all the things that would haunt you if you couldn't. I didn't have this chance with Charmin. Her death was sudden and unexpected. I did get it with my grandfather and even though it was hard to see him lying in that hospital bed, knowing that I would never hear his voice again, knowing that I'd never get to tell him again how much I love him and hearing him tell me once last time that he loves me. Experiencing the last time I would EVER willingly let someone call me Krissy. Precious moments that I wouldn't trade for anything. Gifts. Each second is a precious, totally selfish, GIFT.

Use them well.

But I don't know how to relate that without sounding totally trite.

Talk Thursday: The Sweet Spot

Sure, when I thought of this topic, I was totally thinking sexual. Nothing wrong with that. I'm an incredibly sexual person, even though I don't get it that often. Maybe if I got it on a regular basis that would change. *shrug* If I ever get to test that theory, I'll let you know. *wink*

Despite my lack of sex life, I think I've hit "The Sweet Spot" in life. My diet is going great. At somewhere around 6 weeks, I've lost slightly over 31 pounds. I'm feeling confident. I feel good about myself. I feel like nothing can stop me. That's a good place to be.

But I am not my weight. Big or thin. I am a good person. I'm a good mom. I'm a good friend. I'm a good co-worker. I am thoughtful and inquisitive. I am a happy person. This is who I am, and I'm a great person to be. I don't know that I really, seriously ever felt otherwise, but I'm more certain now than ever.

I have always my moments. I do not ooze self-confidence. I have social anxieties. I have horrible taste in men. Maybe it's more that horrible men have a taste for me. Either way, it comes out the same in the end. In a sense, I guess this does define me. I have loving friends who are concerned about my perpetual state of "SINGLE". Yeah, at times... it SUCKS big, fat, hairy balls. My son deserves a positive male role model who is a daily influence in his life. I deserve a companion to share the laughs, the tears, and the stresses. And a sexual partner would be much appreciated. Social anxieties limit my interactions and opportunities to mingle with the opposite sex. *shrug* For the most part, I'm ok with this. Of course I am.... I'm giving in to, and protecting my anxieties. I get that. Believe it or not, I have a fairly good understanding of how I work. That said, I don't really know how to overcome it.

Sure, when I think about growing old alone, that really bites... When my son tells me how much he wishes he had a dad, that kills me. In those moments. I don't dwell on it. I can bitch "GODDAMN IT! I NEED TO GET LAID!!" Just like I would bitch, "GODDAMN IT! I NEED SOME CHOCOLATE CAKE!" I'm not depressed over it. I'm not miserable. It means I'm fucking horny (but I might settle for chocolate cake.... well these days, some sugar-free/fat-free chocolate pudding with some chocolate rice cakes). Plain and simple. I know plenty of married peoples who don't get the amount of sex they want. This has little to do with being single. I could have a shitty boyfriend, if I wanted one. I could get laid... if that's all I wanted (and if I had no standards). That's not what I want.

When I put up my protective cloak, I'm all "Men are stupid... Men are users and assholes and I hate them". I know that's not true. I know there are great guys out there. Unfortunately, at this point, they don't see me... or if they do, I can't see through my lack of self-confidence to notice. Yes, relationships, MARRIAGE, scare the shit out of me. Life has given me a healthy fear of trusting that much. It makes me afraid to approach it. That doesn't mean that I don't want it. Once I'm in it, I force myself to trust too much. I over compensate. Yeah, in that area... I'm pretty much a train wreck.

This really doesn't define me. I think about sex way more than I think about "Ohhh I'm so lonely." Really, I'm not that lonely. Yes, most of my social interaction is via the internet. I don't have many close friends in my physical life, but I have amazing friends that live on the other side of the world. And they mean the world to me. (Even the ones who aren't speaking to me right now.) I don't talk to my nearby friends every day... or even every week. This doesn't make me lonely. I could call or go to their house. I just don't. To be honest, I don't think we'd stay as close of friends if we spent that much time together. I have some friends that I could spend every moment of my life with, physically or via Skype, and others that I love just about as much because we DON'T spend that much time together. Both are important to me. Both are good for me.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is, I have my glitches. I have the things that, yeah, I wish were different or better. I wish I was a millionaire... But I'm not unhappy. I have a good life, and currently, it's just getting better and better.

I now have 3 pairs of panties that fit me properly, and I'm about a week and a half from a bunch of really cute lacy panties that have been taking up space in my drawer because I refused to give up on them. Maybe I'll find someone to appreciate them, maybe not. But I'll feel damn good while I'm wearing them. And that's what matters.

See, The Sweet Spot.

Prozzak - Be As

Diet: Day 18

15 pounds gone................. Buh-Bye!

I hate you. Please don't ever come back.

But you won't be lonely, there are some others of your kind that will be joining you soon enough.

My underwear fit different.

I'm not complaining.

I think it's kind of AWESOME!!!

TMI?

GET OVER IT!

When I lose all my 2 liters, I'm posting nudie pics!!

Relax mom, I didn't say "OF ME!!"

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!!

ReWriting The Bible.......

“Beware of practicing your righteousness before men to be noticed by them; otherwise you have no reward with your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 6:1).

I'd like to believe that just as God supposedly dictated to Moses on the Mount, that this message too was of divine direction. I imagine the writing of it to have gone something like this....

Dude: Fuck? Sir, you sure you want to say "Fuck"?
God: Yes! F-U-C-K! Apparently, some people listen better if you drop the F-Bomb a few times.
Dude: Amen!
God: I should have written the whole fucking Book that way. Maybe these jackasses would get some of this shit right.
Dude: Word!

“And when you pray, you are not to be as the hypocrites, for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on the street corners in order to be seen by men. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full” (Matthew 6:5).

The New Word of the Streets version:

"And HOLY SHIT! When you pray, don't be a fucking hypocrite! Don't jump up and down screaming "LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! GOD LOVES ME! AND I LOVE GOD! AND HE HATES YOU AND YOU'RE GOING TO HELL!!" cuz you're a fucking douche bag! I gots no love for you!" (Matthew 6:5)

It's A Miracle!

There are these things.... that my brain can control and use to propel me. When they move quickly, I get places faster, and I sweat. It's a miracle.

I've started walking. I know, right? 36 years old, it's about fucking time, no?

Not only have I started walking, but I've done it twice now. TWICE!!! The first time I took Burp on a walk through our ghetto neighborhood. We walked probably close to a mile and a half in about 30ish minutes. I tripped on an uneven crack in the sidewalk, almost ate shit, didn't eat shit, and totally bent back a fingernail saving myself from eating shit. About which I swore loudly.

Burp: "But, did you break your mother's back?"
Me: "Are you freaking kidding me? I'm bleeding here! She's totally understand if I broke her damn back!"

He gave me that look that said, "I'm so telling grandma on you!"
Then a block later we saw suspicious types at the school, in the dark, with golf clubs..... So I called the non-emergent number for the police department. I'd rather be a dork and have them check out the school, than have a bunch of windows and what not broken out.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I told a friend about this and he looked at me like I was totally retarded. Is it less retarded if I said that this was probably getting close to 10 pm?

So, Burp and I will not be taking anymore midnight strolls through the hood.

Yesterday, we met an old friend we hadn't seen in years at a park, with his son. The boys played. Friend and I visited. We all went for a walk. The boys played more. We all went for another walk. It was fun.

My friends, who've moved themselves to the ends of the Earth, are trying to hook us up, I think. I've gotten the instructions, "You ask him to hang out again, BEFORE next weekend."

He's a good guy. Going through an icky divorce with a woman none of us ever liked. He's a good dad. Smart, to the side of geeky. Cute. Not someone I would break, physically or mentally. I've known him for about 11 years, and did at one time crush on him. However, *lol*, a little time to get reacquainted shouldn't be frowned upon. We haven't really seen each other much, at all, in the last 6 years or so.

At one point, he was play fighting with Burp and picked him up over his head. We all thought Burp was laughing, but when he put him down, he was in full-on hysterical panic mode. We all felt bad. I didn't make a big deal about it though. I spent the time pulling Burp out of it and reassuring him that I have no doubt, what-so-ever, that he was never in any danger. My friend felt like crap, and I was just honest. Burp's not had a guy play with him like that in YEARS. He kept saying, "I'm so sorry. I was just playing with him like I would my boys." ......................... Burps fears aside, I think that's pretty damn awesome.

We discovered, while we were at the park that Burp hadn't taken his meds yesterday. Yeah! So there wasn't a whole lot of listening and doing as he was told, going on. The "Friend" totally knows and understands Burp's issues. He didn't really seem annoyed or put off at all.

He has two sons, five and three. I haven't seen the five year old since he was a baby, and I've never met the youngest. (He's currently with his mom.) But Burp and the 5er got along fabulously. His son is absolutely adorable. Laughs a lot and is totally silly.

And though I said taking time to get reacquainted wouldn't be a bad thing, while we were walking.... I couldn't help thinking, "This is nice. I could do this."

He's totally my kind of guy. He's nerdy with computers. Loves LOTR and other geeky things of the sort. He, at one point, likened Burp to Sheldon Cooper. (hahaha)  Is into camping, fishing, and hunting. He isn't a drunk or a druggy. He did have a medicinal marijuana card for his neuropathy that he got getting chemo, or radiation therapy, when he had testicular cancer about 6 years ago, but he quit using it when the divorce started. He's fun, laid back, and he loves his boys.

So, I'm not opposed to this... Let's just see where it goes.

Ohhh yeah, but the important thing.... I walked... TWICE this weekend... and will hopefully do so today, as well!

Infuriation

It kind of sucks to not have a blog that your friends don't know about. Sometimes I need to work shit out, and here is really the best place, but there's always the worry that someone will read it, and it will make a situation that much worse.

At this point tho.... I need to get some shit out.

I have four very close friends. Two of them, though on different continents, I talk to every day via Skype and Facebook. Friend A has been my friend since 99. We've been coworkers twice, in roommate-ish situations several times, she was there when my son was born, and in general, a lot of good and bad times. Friend B is a newer friend, but I love her. Like Friend A, I can pretty much talk to her about anything.. and I really wish we had the personal experiences that I have with Friend A.

A and B were friends for a brief period. Very brief, like 2 or 3 weeks.

Then there was a fight. Sitting from where I was, I saw every gruesome step of it, and tried my best to divert it.

Friend B and I had been joking around and poking at someone, yeah to make a point.... but still with smiles on our faces. Friend A gave a thumbs up. Then that someone pouted about being poked at, and Friend A did a 180 and came out swinging. Actually, the swinging might have happened before the pouting even occurred. I don't know... Next thing I know, it's like A is calling B out, B is taunting A, and I know this is going to be a horrible bloody mess.

During this, both sides are messaging me. "What the fuck is her problem?", "I swear if she says one more thing, I'm never speaking to her again." "Is this bitch for real?" and so on. Then, as I'm trying to mitigate the situation, Friend A clams up and refuses to talk about it. "I don't feel the need to have a discussion every time I get irritated." *Slap!* (This says to me, "I don't care what you need to say. I don't care if you're trying to fix this. I don't care how you personally need to work through this, I just don't feel it's necessary.) She does this often. Everything gets riled up and then she just walks away from it and never again acknowledges that anything happened. Unfortunately, I'm NOT this kind of person.. If I don't work it out and get some closure, it sits there and festers.

So Friend A won't talk about it.
The next day, Friend B still wants to tell A off. I advise against it. It's not going to do any good, but only get uglier. I state that I don't need the drama and she replies something like, "I guess I'm just supposed to take the abuse because it makes your life easier."

I don't like guilt trips. And I called her on it with a "What the fuck is that?"

She hasn't talk to me since. It's been a weekish. She quit the FB group, unfriended Friend A, appears to have deleted me from her Skype, but not FB- though she seems to have gone invisible to me... I can see her posting messages to ppls posts.... but she's not speaking to me.

I'm upset. I miss her. But I'm angry that she would write me off because I don't want to be in the middle of this. The next day, before I realized she had deleted everyone, I sent her a message on Skype saying "I'm sorry if you're mad at me... I just thought that was a cheap shot...... and in my perfect world, you and Friend A would be friends and learn to deal with each other... but if that can't happen, I just don't want to be part of a bloody battle. It's not easy to sit back and see that neither side is innocent, and have both sides sending me messages like "WTF is her problem? She's really pissing me off"

I got no response.

My mom raised me that when you love someone, you accept their faults as well as their good points. That you should never try to change someone. If you can't deal with their faults, then you should walk away. Everyone has their faults. And sometimes those faults are hard to deal with, but the benefits I get from these friendships far out-weigh the bad aspects.

With Friend A, I understand why she is the way she is. Even if it infuriates me sometimes, I accept it. Friend B has her faults too, and I understand why she has them, and I accept her for them. I'm okay with them not being friends, though we have a lot of fun when we play together, but if they can't accept each others faults, understand where they come from, and get over it..... then they shouldn't be friends. But damn it, I should still be allowed to have my friends.

So I'm standing here holding this big ball of frustration. Friend A pretends the incident never happened, and Friend B pretends like I never existed. And I'm wondering where the hell the "give and take" is. Apparently, I'm the friend that isn't supposed to have needs and is just supposed to fall in line with the whims of those around her.

Well, news flash.

I can be your friend and still not support things that I don't feel are right.
I can be your friend and be irritated at you.

However, there is only so long that I can take being treated as though my feelings don't matter.
And you're both doing that to me.

Maybe you guys will read this, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll read this and get more pissed off. *Shrug* Sorry, I have needs too. And since neither of you want to work through this, this is how I have to get it out.
Maybe you'll read this and never acknowledge that you have. I suppose that's your choice. Maybe you'll actually want to talk to me about this because a week later, I'M STILL UPSET. Maybe because I appear to have lost a friend over this and I'm the only one who seems to care.

I think that's fucked up.

Three 2 Liters Down, Ohh Soo Many More To Go

One, I'm dieting.

Two, I found this website that said four pounds of fat is about the same size as a 2 liter of soda. It's hard to imagine that I'm carrying around probably 40 two liters of lard. That's insane.

In 15 days, I've lost at least 12 lbs. (I'd like to think slightly more than that because the last scale I had weighed myself on was my moms..... and it's always a little kinder to me than any others. I haven't made it back there to find out how much I've lost by that scale.)

The good news is that I have not, as of yet, killed anyone. Actually, this isn't so horrible. I'm having two meal replacement shakes, one low-fat, low-carb meal, and a few healthy snacks a day.

My shakes started as Body by Vi.. and if I could afford it, I'd keep using it. They taste good, and they are insanely good for you. I can not afford $50 every 15 days, so I bought a protein powder that is not nearly as good for me, but of course only costs about $12.... So my shakes have developed into this half scoop of protein powder, 2 generous tbsps of greek yogurt, a cup-ish of frozen berries, mango, and/or peaches, and a 1/4 of a banana. AND 2 tbsps of a fiber powder. (Don't laugh! Studies show that fiber helps you lose weight. My ass needs to lose weight.)

My dinner the last few days has been half a boneless skinless chicken breast on a Thinwich, a smidge of  reduced fat mayo (I could go fat free, but EWWWWW, I think I can spare 1g of fat!) sliced red onions, red pepper, and... if I'm feeling extra needy a thin slice of reduced fat cheddar. I usually have this with a cup of sliced raw mushrooms and a bit of fat free Catalina for dipping.

My snacks are plentiful. I pretty much let myself have free run of mushrooms. A cup is 60 calories of absolute goodness. I eat a lot of snap peas and tomatoes...... Ohhhh a fave snack I've developed is a can of whole chunk tuna (60 cal x2) a zesty pickle and a roma tomato diced, some red onion, and a carefully measured 2 tbspns of mayo... 180 cal/ 4g fat/ 11 carbs/ 24g protein. (Yes, the sodium is heart-stopping.... I will have to go down to a half can of tuna and half a pickle. *sigh*)Since I'm up for 18 hours a day, I have a shake when I first wake up at 3, a heavy snack (like the tuna)(or scrambled egg whites with mushrooms, broccoli, and red peppers) at 7pm before work, a 100 cal or less snack at about 11pm, my sandwich at about 1:30ish, and my second shake at about 5:30 am.

A fave snack I've found is sugar free Jello cups with lite canned fruit. I bought 1/2 cup containers, so no fudging the portions. Ben and I make up a whole bunch at once, and then we both have little yummy snacks of about 30ish calories. Yay TEAM!

My biggest hurdle was my coffee... I love my flavored, horribly sweetened, fatty creamers. I eased out of it. It's taken two weeks, but I'm now using Splenda and powdered non-fat creamer. It's NOT the same, and my coffee intake has decreased by half.... but I can still have my coffee.

I feel like I am constantly eating. Which is probably better than before.... On days that I worked, I did not eat when I woke up, but ate with Ben at 7 (usually a low fat, HIGH-carb meal), had a snack of potato chips around 11pm, and got something from the kitchen at work (usually involving french fries.. tho they do make a killer chef salad once a week) around 2 am. Then didn't eat again until 7pm when I made the kid dinner.... So yes, I'm being insanely conscious of fat and carbs, but I think it's just about as important that I'm eating on a regular basis, hopefully keeping my body from going into starvation mode.

My current goal is 20 lbs, with the option of renewal. Yes, realistically, I KNOW I need to lose about 160 lbs total.  (My "ideal" weight is about 140 lbs give or take 7) Do I think this is realistic for me? NO. I haven't weighed that little since I was in elementary school, I shit you not. I would put my realistic goals somewhere around 160 to 175. But that's still a big number, so I think I'm just going to take it 20 lbs at a time, with option for renewal. That isn't so overwhelming.

My next big hurdle is going to be exercise. I hate it. If you gave me a cake and said "You can eat this WHOLE thing, if you walk two miles afterwards." I'd say, "Fuck you and your cake." In the last 15 days, I exercised once, for 30 minutes. I KNOW this needs to change. It's the whole making it happen thing that I fail on. If I could afford a weight trainer, I'd do it, no problem. I keep appointments. I'm just no good at "OhhhhYAY!  It's time to be miserable." This weekend, my goal is to go walking. I've kind of half-heartedly found a way to encourage me to do it... Make walking dates. If someone is supposed to meet me somewhere at a certain time, I'll show up, rain or shine. Now I just have to make the dates. I've kind of got one tentatively planned for Sunday. I have two ppl I can call to make one for Saturday.... *Looks at the phone* I can do this..... lol

Yesterday, I noticed a size difference. YAY... in my ass.. I seem to be losing it all from my ass... How weird is that? But the butt of my pants are way baggy now.. I'm going to look funny walking around with big tits, big gut, and a little ass.

Dear Fat Gods,

           I have always been fairly well proportioned. Please don't fuck that up.  I would appreciate even weight loss, throughout the entirety of my body. Exercise will be that much more difficult if you throw off my balance... I'm very soon going to be (more) front heavy. This will also put MORE strain on my back. You don't want me to have MORE back problems, do you? Let work on EVEN weight loss..

           Please and Thank you,

           Psam

 The bottom line is... I'm not miserable. More than sweets, I've been craving fats. LIKE CHEESE. That's why I broke down and bought the reduced fat cheese. It's not as good, but it's not as BAD for me. I've had a few bitty pieces, when I first bought it, but it's sat there untouched for the last week. Not bad. I really find myself looking at calories, fat, and carbs and finding that it's just not worth it. Which is GOOD! It's there if I really, really want it... but so far, I've been pretty much deciding against it. (Same with the tub of Java Chip ice cream that's been in my freezer for 3 weeks.) And the Garlic Ritz crackers that taunt me from the pantry. It's there. I could have a little bit, and it won't KILL my diet... but at this point, it's just not worth it.

I think I'm doing ok. I -COULD- try a more drastic diet. But this one is manageable for me. I'm NOT miserable. In fact, I'm actually liking it. So, I'm good where I am. My outlook is shiny.

What more could I want?

Talk Thursday: Identify Your Selves: Id, Ego, Superego

I took psych classes in high school and college. I discovered that I have a hard time remembering names and dates and theories that don't make a lot of sense. (Maybe it's just the whole "pseudoscience" thing)  Also, I might be fucked up. (I'll revisit that later.)

I have never understood Freud. I have never understood how a man so incredibly fucked up himself, became a leading authority on the fucked-uppedness of others. It boggles the mind.

So Mr Freud had this theory of Id, Ego, and SuperEgo. In a nutshell, these are the theoretical tiers that make up the human psyche. To quote Wiki, "According to this model of the psyche, the id is the set of uncoordinated instinctual trends; the ego is the organized, realistic part; and the super-ego plays the critical and moralizing role."


To expound a bit:
ID is the unconscious part that drives the instinctual needs, "fight em, fuck em, or flee." It serves to protect the others from pain and displeasure. According to Freud, it "knows no judgements of value: no good and evil, no morality...Instinctual cathexes seeking discharge — that, in our view, is all there is in the id."

The SUPEREGO seems to be the check system. " It comprises that organized part of the personality structure, mainly but not entirely unconscious, that includes the individual's ego ideals, spiritual goals, and the psychic agency (commonly called "conscience") that criticizes and prohibits his or her drives, fantasies, feelings, and actions."

The EGO seems to be the balancing system through which the others see fruition.  "The ego comprises the organized part of the personality structure that includes defensive, perceptual, intellectual-cognitive, and executive functions. Conscious awareness resides in the ego, although not all of the operations of the ego are conscious. Originally, Freud used the word ego to mean a sense of self, but later revised it to mean a set of psychic functions such as judgment, tolerance, reality testing, control, planning, defense, synthesis of information, intellectual functioning, and memory."

So basically, Id, Superego, and Ego, are the want, censure, and how to proceed functions of the personality.

I don't know about you, but my Id and Superego are two completely different beings with little or no understanding of each other.
 My Id is a prison yard boss named Skull who will squash you like a bug for not covering your mouth when you sneeze. He will envision ripping out your entrails and stuffing them up your nose. Then laugh.
My Superego is a strict non-secular Mother Superior named Mary Agnes who always looks for "right" regardless of personal opinion. She would hand the sneezer a box of tissues and lecture Snake on the exact science of sneezing, berate him for his violence, and then expound on the art of forgiveness.
My Ego is kind of like a Dr Jekyll/Mr Hyde. Did you ever watch Another World? The characters played by Anne Heche pretty much sum up my Ego. Marley, a super sweet, non-violent pushover... and Vikki, a don't fuck with me, anything goes (often in a chaotic whirlwind of poorly thought out fucked-uppedness), balls-to-the-wall, the ends justify the means kind of girl.

Mary Agnes communes fairly well with Marley. Marley fights to suppress Snake and Vikki, but there comes a point when Snake and Vikki are pushed too far, tired of being censored, and come out with all four fists swinging. When the dust settles, Mary Agnes shakes her head and asks, "Are you happy now?"
Snake tells her to "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
And Marley just cries.

Vikki picks up a sharp stick and goes to look for something to poke. 

Perhaps you're coming to realize that my "organized, realistic" part isn't that organized and realistic. A psychic once told me that I'd never get anywhere in life if I didn't pull my head out of the clouds and live in reality. Truth is, reality sucks. Reality is boring and depressing.

I have this huge filing cabinet in my mind where all those things that hurt me, make me angry, or stress me out, all get filed away and ignored. This works pretty well, for the most part. Until Snake gets Vikki worked up enough, and all those files get dumped in my lap at once. Marley gets instantly overwhelmed and adopts the fetal position, while Vikki goes on a rampage.

Or maybe I just don't understand this theory at all and Snake, Mary Agnes, Marley, and Vikki are all parts of the Ego, and Freud was right in that the Id and Superego are mostly unconscious bits of the psyche. In that case, I'm probably even more fucked up than I thought.

Talk Thursday: Jealousy

Jealously is a serious and sensitive subject.

I think we've all felt it ourselves, and we've all probably been affected by the jealousy of others. Be it in a friendship or a sexual relationship, it's pretty much a fact of life. If you've ever felt jealousy, then you know it's pretty hard to just shrug off. In fact, I don't know that we can really change that about ourselves. What we can change is how we deal with it.

Jealousy rarely has much to do with the subject causing the jealousy. I mean, if we all were self confident, sure of ourselves and our place in this ball of chaos called "life", we probably wouldn't go stark raving mad when we feel shunned or slighted. If we did feel that way, we'd probably have the balls to stand up and say, "Hey, you're ignoring me and being an asshat!" Most of us don't have the courage to say that. That would be weakness. That would open us up to bigger injury. So we act all psycho, or dictatorish, or fall into deep depressions.

We have relationships for totally selfish purpose. Relationships with others of our species is a biological need for humans. Studies have shown that babies born prematurely, who aren't touched during incubator time are less likely to survive or prosper. Children who spend infancy in orphanages are shown to have hormonal and chemical imbalances that are directly linked to emotions and neurological activity. We need each other. When we find a good relationship, be it friend or lover, the mutual benefit is maximized. We begin to care about the other subject and desire to fulfill their relationship needs, and we reach symbiosis. (I would like to point out that symbiosis has nothing to do with giving and taking equally. It simply means "mutually beneficial".)

When you're in the midst of jealousy "drama" it's hard to remember this basic knowledge. If you've made a new friend and your other friend starts acting weird, consider this: Perhaps you haven't done enough to assure them of their place in your life. Sometimes we fall into that "She knows I love her" trend. I mean, it's become kind of 'uncool' to tell your BFF "I love you". But we should. Probably way more often than we do.

Studies show that love effects dopamine, norepinephrine, and oxytocin levels in the brain. When these are effected, we not only see change in moods and emotion, but brain scans show that different regions of the brain are accessed. So, when your friend freaks out at you, try to be a little understanding... Her biology is acting against her. Studies repeatedly show that suffering a heartbreak affects the brain much like cocaine withdrawl. If you knew your friend was trying to kick a coke habit, you'd be more understanding, right?

Sometimes we just can't say "I love you" enough. Right? Your BFF, or boyfriend, SHOULD TOTALLY know by now that they are número uno in your life, but they still seem to need constant affirmation. This is all them and is probably the result of something traumatic that has happened at some point in there history. You can't fix that for them. They could maybe get over it some day. Maybe not. The question is whether or not you can deal with it. Some of us are just needier than others. Remember this is, generally, a self esteem issue. A truly symbiotic relationship will accommodate that. If you can't, you have to be honest with everyone involved.

Does your BFF always have to be número uno? What about número dos, tres, or cuatro? You've had more than one love in your lifetime, right? Those who talk about "one true love" are only trying to make their current love feel like their "best" love, in my opinion. If you think about all the people you've loved... you, more than likely, loved them all fairly equally, but for very different reasons. It's no different with BFFs. I, personally, have 4 "best" friends. They all mean something very different to me. I enjoy different things about them and they all fulfill different needs in me. That doesn't necessarily mean that I have to love one more, or less, than any of the others. 


I suppose I should address that megalomaniacal jealousy. Jealousy, in it's purest form, serves a purpose. It promotes stasis, or balance, in the relationship. It is the red light indicator that one is not secure in their role. It is the warning light that goes off to encourage us to ask for that reassurance. Megalomaniacal jealousy has NOTHING to do with this. 

Rape is to lust as megalomaniacal jealousy is to love. 

One has absolutely nothing to do with the other. Like rape, this "jealousy" is primarily about control. It does not mean that he LOVES YOU OHHHH SO VERY MUCH! It means he (or she) needs a victim. Plain and simple.... RUN!


My message here is that we need to re-evaluate what jealousy (in it's pure form) truly is, and what it means, and address it accordingly. I often hear, "I just don't understand jealousy at all." Perhaps you are a very self confident person.  I wish we could all have that, but we don't. 


Remember that jealousy is an indication something is missing. Self confidence? Communication? It is the responsibility of both parties to isolate and alleviate the cause.

Pedistool Toppled

Have you ever had that crushing disappointment when you realize that someone is actually just another fucked up human being when for years you, in some way, held them above the herd?

There's this girl that I went to school with. I've known her just about my whole damn life. Pre-adult, she was the kindest, nicest, fairest peer I'd probably ever had. I'd never heard her talk shit about others. Never saw her get angry with anyone. Not a selfish bone in her body. Smart ass hell too.

I've always admired and looked up to her. I always thought that the world would be a much better place if more people, myself included, could be like her.

Sadly, via Facebook, she is gradually exposing herself to be someone that I'm not even sure I want to know anymore and every time she reveals one of these unsavory bits of herself, I feel like my world has kind of wobbled off kilter.

It started a few months ago. She has a son several years older than mine, who is an Aspie but unlike my son, her's has fairly violent meltdowns. Her husband was overseas in the military and she was home with 4 or 5 kids to manage. Anyone who knows the devout LDS life, knows that she is a busy woman. Up before the sun to get the kids to seminary. She runs a business or two from home. Lunch with the girls. Homework, sports practice, church socializing, she has a full plate. Still, was a little surprised to find that she was on a few different anti-depression and anxiety meds. (Not that I judge her for that, at all.. I don't.)

What started turning me sour was the way she treats, talks about, and acts toward her son with Asperger's. He has "beat her up" a few times. I say it like that because I wasn't there, I didn't see the incident, and I've also never seen the results of the incident. A girl who posts on the run, "I'm a fun/fab girl" shots of herself every day, and who always posts when "He beat me up again"... has never posted pics of her injuries. Not saying it doesn't happen... just wondering if they're exaggerated a bit.

Several months ago there was another incident with her son and, because she blogs every detail, I could see precisely each point where things when wrong. It culminated when he went outside to "cool off", and she saw that he was, but she still had the other children go around and lock all the doors and windows. When he realized he was being locked out by his family, he went nuts and started beating at the glass door with a chair. I would think that anyone who knows a few things about Aspies would see that she instigated this response. It ended with her calling the police and then next day she took her son to a 10 day inpatient psych evaluation, which she didn't tell him about until they were in the facility parking lot. While he was in the facility, she petitioned the Base Commander for the right to have a taser. That's right, she wanted to be able to tase her son when he got out of control (because she didn't know how to properly decelerate a situation.) The scary thing is that her "friends" from her ASD support group and HER SON'S THERAPIST all supported her.

 THANK GOD the Base Commander denied her request.

I was disgusted. Shocked. Completely flabbergasted. But I tried to respond calmly. I posted and sent her messages plainly stating that "There has to be another way." I explained to her that the course she was taking could do irreparable damage to her relationship with her son and begged her to seek the advice of alternate professionals. She never responded to me. I quit reading her blog.

I still see her Facebook posts. Things like, "Shopping with all the kids. ARRRGG! But  I can't leave them home with the Aspie!"

It breaks my heart.

But, what actually made me start this post, was a completely different topic.

She had a Pure Romance party today, and of course it was "No men or children".

She apparently had one friend a bit saddened by that. To which he (The Friend) responded, "I'm sure it would have been fun, but whatever, I'm used to it by now."
Her hubby posted, " you wouldn't want to attend one of these parties. Women would talk about such things, but men...not in a big group like that...no way!'
The Friend, " -Methinks your life experience is very different from mine. You played baseball and football; I was a gymnast and a cheerleader. You've worked for the BSA and the US Military -- Mostly men, right?. I'm a teacher--3 women for every man in this building; even in the science department women outnumber men. I have spent my entire life surrounded by women. And I LOVE it. When my assistant director (Drama Department) was having trouble finding nursing bras that fit, she thought maybe I could help -- and I did.
I very much wish I could have been there. I often feel the need to talk about such things; I (almost) never get the chance."
Her hubby replied, " .no, not my cup of tea. I wish there were no women in the military. Or at least I wish I was in a true combat arms branch where women are not capable of being involved in..." 
The Friend, "You see what you just did there, XXX? I was opening up, expressing my deep need to talk about personal issues, and you changed the subject to "women in the military." Hahaha. You're such a guy." (Good for him.)


Perhaps I shouldn't have been so dismayed by this, but I guess I always held her husband to a higher standard as well. When I first read that statement, I wanted to find him and kick him in the balls while I questioned, "Not CAPABLE????" Sure, maybe not in hand-to-hand combat. But how often does "battle" in today's world involve hand-to-hand? 


Perhaps his view comes from having a wife who feels the only way she can deal with her son is to use a taser on him. Just sayin'!

BITCHES!

Talk Thursday: Mememememe... Again...

Ten Weird Things About Me.

I never thought this one would be so hard. Like, I had to start wondering if maybe I was...... normal.... Naaaahhhh! Can't be.

10. I am superstitious. Which in itself isn't weird. However, I am superstitious because I firmly believe that while it is absolutely ridiculous to think that walking under a ladder is bad luck, it might piss off the gods if I don't give them proper respect and they might fuck me up, just to prove a point. Because anything is possible. But it might piss them off if I give in to some stupid ritual, so I might do the exact opposite of what is expected... And there isn't really any rhyme or reason to what I will or won't do. I will always shut off my car a specific way, because it's incredibly bad luck not to; however, I will never forward chain letters, or texts, no matter how sweet the message, because of the part that promises you good luck for doing so. Right, no good luck there. Bad luck. Same with wishing on stars, birthday candles. Bad luck. Don't do it. Ohhhh and, if you're going to read the fortune in your fortune cookie, you HAVE to eat the cookie first. No cheating.

9. It really annoys me that I can't read other people's mind and know what they think and how they feel. When I think about this, I get very sad. I feel like I'm so far away from everyone and that I don't really, truly know anyone. Disconnected.

8. I am terrified of skinks. Not other lizards, not snakes. I FUCKING HATE SKINKS. And you might not see how this is related, but it is.... I am terrified of those jerky humanoid monstery-things in horror movies, like The Grudge and Silent Hill. Sad to say, I am terrified of mutant things.

7. I LOVE to clean my ears. It is the best feeling ever. Ok.. almost ever. It is the SECOND BEST FEELING EVER!! I can't stand that wet feeling in my ears.. it makes me twitch. Not only does cleaning my ears get rid of that feeling, but feels so fabulous on it's own... I could clean my ears all day.

6. I HATE anything between my toes. In fact, right now, thinking about it is giving me the willies. It makes me want to cry, and vomit, and run away. It's right up there with nails on a chalkboard and flossing. Ok, nails on a chalkboard don't bother me as much as the other two. They make my skin crawl.

5. My very eclectic taste in music... I might go from punk, to rap, to big band, to 60's folk rock, to show tunes... You just never really know. And I have a special love for punk covers of other genres of music.

4. Like my mom, everyone has special songs... some occasions have special songs. Songs can also totally alter my moods. If I'm sad or angry, a half hour of music will totally work it all out. Of course, certain songs can remind me of people and make me miseraby sad and mopey too.

3. I absolutely cannot sew. I cannot make pancakes. And unless I'm singing big band, I cannot carry a tune. I can pat my head and rub my tummy.

2. Sometimes I forget how to breathe. Like trying to breathe in when I already have, or the opposite...

1. I get words or phrases stuck in my head until they drive me batty. I will repeat it over and over for hours. Sometimes I'm lucky and it's from a song and I can just listen to something else a few times and it kind of knocks it out. For the past 2 days, I've had the first two lines of Hey, Soul Sister on a constant repeat. (Of course, the Glee version.) The worst is when it's a random word, usually one that you don't come across frequently in natural conversation. My brain will dissect it, work out all the possible definitions, then come up with ways to molest those definitions... But often, it just repeats it. Like... HymenopteraHymenopteraHymenopteraHymenopteraHymenoptera.

Standing Up For What You Believe In

If you don't stand up, you might as well be lying down.

There are certain things I defend, without care to alienating others. It's who I am. Sure, there's a slight care, when I'm standing up to someone I care about, but my mom taught me that if your friends don't accept you for who you are, then they aren't the kind of friend you need. She's right. And to date, I've never lost anyone that special because of my inability to keep my mouth shut.

Last week, I had to correct a friend when she said (about another "friend" of hers), "It's just wrong. You know. It's not right. God made man and gave him woman for a reason. But I HOPE he doesn't go to hell. You know, I'm not judging him." Sadly, in that moment, she didn't want to hear what I had to say on the issue, and cut me off with a, "I know, we have different views on this... I don't want to fight with you." I was pissed, but kept my mouth shut... mostly because I'm fairly certain she was drunk. You know, God loves drunks. I mean, look at the importance he rose Noah to.

But it ate at me. If I sit back and don't say anything, that's pretty much giving a green light and saying that I condone that viewpoint and behavior. It ate at me to the point that I wondered if I could still be friends with her, though this is pretty much the only area we clash in. Should I quit being friends with someone because they're ignorant? If I do that, I'm giving up a good friend, and missing the opportunity to change her views. Right? Well, like I said, it ate at me. So I posted non-direct comment on my Facebook.

You know who you are.... Last night, you really made me angry. You can't follow, "It isn't right, it isn't natural, hope he doesn't go to hell" with , "But I'm not judging."
You ARE judging. There's no way around it. And worst of all... You're using God to do it. People wonder why I'm not a Christian anymore.... One major reason, I saw very few people who actually practiced what they preach. Jesus is love. God forgives all your sins. "Judge not, least ye be judged." But in the next breath I was told only Christians go to heaven. Only the righteous go to heaven.

Jesus was a Jew. Many believe his best friend was a prostitute. And the prophet Jesus... preached love and acceptance, and never a single word against homosexuality. Jesus would welcome the gay and lesbian community with open arms...

Why can't his followers?

 I asked her not to respond, because I think a lot of my other friends would crucify her, and that's not my intent. I guess more than anything, I had to get the last word in, or something. But I couldn't not say anything.

So, there is this family member that shall remain unnamed, She is an animal rights activist, which I don't have any problem with, at all. I like animals too. She started sharing links to this Facebook page that is trying to get Michele Leqve fired from her job at Delta Airlines because in her free time she is a big game hunter. *Double Take* What? What does her LEGAL, extra curricular activities have to do with her JOB? So I went to this page to check it out. OMG! Let me tell you, the majority of these ppl are FUCKED UP, CRAZY PSYCHOPATHS. Seriously. These animal lovers were talking about hunting down this woman and shooting her. (I'm sorry, I was raised in a hunter family... and I give mad props to someone ballsy enough to go after a polar bear with a bow.) And they're crying over this "poor defenseless creature" that she's taken down with, what they implied to be, advanced weaponry. LOL Seriously? I know most bow hunters carry a side arm, but in seconds that bear could have had the upper hand.

For the sake of keeping peace in the family, I didn't directly post anything.... at first. I told a friend about it, and she posted something like, "You guys are nuts. She didn't do anything wrong. Don't you think that what you're doing is -hunting- her. Why should she lose her job for this?"
To which these people instantly attacked her with thinks like, "Bitch, I hope you and yours get what's coming to you."
WOW.... Ok... can't keep quiet anymore. The majority of my comments were respectful, stating there are reasons that hunting is sanctioned and that hunting is part of nature. Sure, there was some, "You guys are fucking psychotic" thrown in there. But reading through the comments, I saw more and more talking about Michele's impending "accident" that would leave her hideously maimed and disfigured. Several by the same person. It was disgusting. Fairly scary that these "animal" lovers think so highly of wildlife, and so little for human life.... even tho, let's face it folks, humans are just another species of animal. So I reported the one guy to Facebook for "violent and threatening" content.

And guess what? After my second report, the page was immediately taken down. I had considered different avenues.. Starting a "Support Michele Leqve" page... Trolling the anti pages as much as possible. Which is a fucking blast. I'm sorry to say. I love trolling. It's quite entertaining. Especially when they spend soooo much time claiming to be "geneisous" and being "Highly Enlightened" peoples and I am just an "ignorant cretin" and so "obviously stupid"... But in the end, this result kind of tickled me. One of the things they were trying to figure out how to do was get Michele kicked off of Facebook. And this "cretin" figured out how to get you removed from Facebook in about roughly an hour. Which I think shows more WHO deserved to be kicked off and who didn't.

Now, you might say, "These people were just defending what they believe". I'm sorry. There is a right way, and a wrong way. They started a witch hunt. They promoted the idea of someone doing her physical harm. It only takes one nut job to pick up that idea and fulfill it. That's not ok. They encouraged people to call her employer and tell them she should be fired. That is stalking and harassment. No different than if I had an abortion and people started a FB page to get me fired from the hospital I work at. No different than tree huggers encouraging ppl to spike trees.

If you have a cause, Fight For It! but fight responsibly and legitimately.

Self-righteousness doesn't make you right.

And above all, don't lie down. In some cases, it just takes one person to say, "Hey, this isn't right!"


Added After Posting:
Holy crap. Michele has a tough road ahead of her. There are tons of groups dogging her, or this one really gets around.

**I should state that they keep calling her a "trophy hunter" and I don't know if this is or isn't true. I don't agree with trophy hunting.  I was raised if you shoot it, you eat it. And I think that killing, just for the sake of killing, is wrong. The exception is when culling needs to take place. I know they do this with wolves and coyote, for good reason, and I've no issue with this, whatsoever. Cuz no fucking way to I wanna eat coyote.

Holy Shit! It's MeMe! (Talk Thursday)

It was a narrow escape, and I won't get into the whole ordeal, but I was abducted by a swarm alien monkeys who chained me to a banana tree on Ganymede and threw poo at me for 5 whole months. It was hell. 

Mom's topic for this week is memes.. which I think is a fab way for me to try to get back into the swing of things.... Maybe I'll do a few... 

13 Firsts

1. First day of school.  I don't remember the first day of Kindergarten. Most of what I remember before the age of 7 or 8 seems to involve me getting into trouble, which is to say..... I remember a lot. I apparently didn't get into trouble on the first day tho. (Yay, me!) I vaguely remember the first day of 1st Grade tho. I woke up at 5 am and was super excited to wear my new underwear. I think I got in trouble for waking up so early.

2. First Kiss  Hmmmm Kiss, or KissKiss? My first kiss was Eric P. in the 1st grade..... he kissed me on the sand hill during recess, and I punched him. (Yeah, I think I got in trouble.) My first KissKiss KISS was Ron C. when I was in the 8th grade, he was a Junior... and it was amazing. Also my first real boyfriend, my first hickey, my first time being cheated on, and the first time I broke up with someone..... and probably my first seriously wounded heart. 

3. First Date My first real date was Alex. I'd had a crush on him for years and my cousin hooked us up. He was adorable. Also my first alcoholic. (Funny, a few years before he used to buy us alcohol) Sadly, tho my life hasn't had a lot of dates, I don't really remember what we did. It was a short lived romance.

4. First Car. 82 Monza. I really liked that car... And I thank my mother for being a screaming control freak when she taught me how to drive a stick. Sure, it caused me to screech to a stop on the side of the road and scream something like, "I'M BUYING MY OWN FUCKING CAR! IT WILL BE AN AUTOMATIC! AND YOU WILL SIT IN THE PASSENGER SEAT AND SHUT UP!"  Which I did. Who knows how long it would have taken me to get a car if she hadn't screamed, "FIRST! CLUTCH! BREAK! BREAK! SECOND! OH MY GOD WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" so frequently.

5. First Time.   Oi.  Brian W. (I don't think my mom knew this one.) I was 16... He'd been trying to get in my pants for years. One day on the way to a basketball game (I was a pep band geek), he passed me as I was walking to the school and asked if I wanted a ride. I said sure. He said, "Geez, we're going to get there way early...... wanna head out to the beach?" We clocked 140-ish in his Scirocco, and apparently high speeds make my panties fall off. I lost my virginity in the front seat of his car on the beach. And even tho he kinda turned out to be a douche bag, it was pretty fucking incredible. He certainly knew what he was doing. Not every girl can say they had multiple orgasms the first time.. I almost kicked out his fucking windshield. My only complaint would be that it took years for me to find another that talented.

6. First Breakup. Ron. His brother was my good friend. And one day he knocked on the door and said, "Psam, I gotta tell you something.." Apparently, Ron was messing around with my not so chaste cousin Chastity, who was a year younger than me, and had supposedly gotten pregnant. Later that night when Ron knocked on my door, I told him to get fucked and slammed it in his face..... And he moved that night and I didn't see him again for 3 years.

7. First Real Job... I was... 14 or 15 and got a summer job busing tables at a restaurant. It sucked. I made good money, but learned that summer that I never wanted to work in the food industry again. And I haven't. I also didn't have another "real" job until my senior year in high school.

8. First Time to Lose a Job... was about 2 years ago... The job I LOVED. I was downsized... and I frequently find myself hoping that someone will disappear from the face of the earth so I can have it back. Bitches.

9. First Time In Love............. Ohhhhhhhhhh Cory Lee Haussman. When I first met him. I hated him. He was cocky and self-centered. I couldn't stand him. One day I found myself giving him a ride home, and one thing led to another. He was the only one night stand I ever intended. We were together, off and on, for a year and a half. And I loved him. I still do. I always will. 

Our relationship was fucked up. (We were young. I was female. He came from a bad situation.) But when it was good, it felt like forever. We got in a fight one night at a friend's house and broke up. That night he went to Portland with some friends and got arrested on a warrant. I didn't see him again for about 6 months. During that time, I heard all sorts of rumors about why he was arrested, and they were not good. About 2 weeks after he was gone, I'm about 99% positive that I had a miscarriage. It broke my heart. All Cory ever wanted was a family. (His was so incredibly fucked up.) Months later, I saw him in a van for the local youth work camp. We started arranging to run into each other in public, even tho he couldn't talk to me. We started sending letters. He would sneak phone calls to me. But he would never tell me what had happened. He wanted to tell me in person. One day, I got a call from a lady that worked at the camp. She said tons of horrible things about Cory. Just that he was a bad person. A liar. That being involved with him would destroy my future and ruin my life. She convinced me that he 4 or 5 years younger than me. (which I only recently found out isn't true. He's two years younger than me. So he was 17/18 while we were together). They punished him for communicating with me by sending him to MacLaren.. where they send the really bad youth offenders. She got in my head. He started talking about wanting to marry me, and I freaked. I knew I couldn't just walk away from Cory. It would never happen. And, I did the worst thing I've ever done. I cheated on him. Then broke up with him. I knew I couldn't tell him what I'd done. It would hurt him so much. He'd want to confront the guy, and that guy would have wiped the floor with him (probably why I picked that guy)... and I knew I couldn't stay with him and NOT tell him. I remember not answering his phone call. The phone rang at the appointed time, and I sat there listening to it, bawling.

He's the one that, all these years later, I still wonder if I did the right thing (albeit, in the most chickenshit, wrong way). I finally found him on Facebook. (I haven't contacted him.) He's got that family he always wanted. A beautiful wife, and adorable children. And I am so incredibly heartbroken and jealous. He's the one I always hoped would pop back into my life; grown-up, mature, and ready to straighten things out. He's the one that I look at my son and think, he should have been your daddy.

10. First Drink. I think it was wine at Grandma's on New Year's Eve... I didn't like it and gave it to my cousin. 

11. First Sign of a Backbone....... when I came out of the womb and kicked the doctor in the face for slapping my ass???? lol.. Ummmm at 3, my mom broke a wooden spoon over my butt. I stole all her's and my grandma's and buried them under the house. The best part of this story is that I didn't confess until I was 21.

12.  First Ambition... Hmmmm? I wanted to be an archeologist when I was in the 3rd grade. Then in 4th grade, I was introduced to Christa McAuliffe.. The first person I'd ever come across with MY name. Then I watched her die. And I knew I wanted to be an astronaut, which led to wanting to be a fighter pilot (Tom Cruise kind of helped) and that goal lasted until the 8th grade, until I was told they'd  never let me fly in combat. Then I fell in love with forensic science.

13. First Realization of Mortality. WTF are you talking about? I'm a goddamned goddess! Actually, I don't really remember not knowing I would die. As a child, I could never picture myself as grown up. I was certain I would die by my 21st birthday.  When I was 3, every incarnation of Sabin got hit by a car and never came back..... In probably about the 1st grade, my babysitter got hit by a car and died. I was in the 3rd grade when my grandfather killed himself.  I think it hit me hardest when Charmin died during my 8th grade year, that was life changing for me. But it's always been there. I mean, tho I didn't know until years later, I was born with death. It's always been around me.

Ok... that was horribly depressing.... I think I need a drink, and a silly meme to recoup.

My Cory songs...

We broke up every time this song came on the radio...