When Shit Hits The Fan, It's Never Distributed Evenly...

I've often heard people say that "you can't really get to know a person through the internet" or "How could you tell my tone? It was over the internet." The fact of the matter is though, that written word has been around for hundreds of years, and it packs a powerful punch. How we word something, be it an e-mail, a letter of love, or "John Dear" can all allow us to more fully express ourselves without interruption. And it is without this interruption that allows us to communicate ourselves more freely, and more completely, ironic in, and of itself, in that the written word is far more permanant than the spoken word. Yet both can affect us deeply, and remain with us for a long time.

I am writing this now, not as a means of being passive-agressive, but rather to "dump" it here until such a time that it comes to address the issue again. The so-called "facts" are merely my interpretation of the situation, and may be dead on, or completely off. I will amend any incorrect statements/assumptions at a later time. Right now I just wish to relieve myself of the incessant thought of this.

It all began with Happy Hour a few weeks ago at McFadden's. Most people know that KB and I dated, broke up, and remained friends, but the truth is our friendship was strained at best. Despite my ending of things, hard feelings remained, at least on my part, which kept us from being the best of friends we used to be. Eventually though, I was granted the tools I needed to let go, and did so accordingly. If I'm 100% honest with myself, I always held out hope that we'd return to the way things were before we dated, and remain that way if the relationship was rekindled. The honest to goodness truth though is that we don't want the same things: kids, marriage, etc. are all major decisions we have different views on, and neither of us are willing to compromise. No one would fault us for that.

When I "met" Chris, a fluke accident through my cousin, whom was just intending to give his friend "someone to talk to", I never intended to want to date the guy. I had a lot of preconceived notions about prison people in general, undoubtedly formed by the television shows (such as OZ) that I frequented. Having dated a military man, whom later returned from Iraq, rendering me pregnant (unbeknownst to him), and alone, I found that I am not best suited to waiting. But I quickly found that Chris was a generally likeable guy, and eventually (and perhaps a bit premmaturely) I went out on a limb. He responded neutrally saying that he didn't find the idea of "waiting" to be any possibility worth considering. Whether I failed to accurately convey my position, or not still isn't clear to me.

Prior to my last North Carolina visit, the letters between Chris, and I were becoming more and more relaxed, and varied in topics, with the obvious comfort level between us. When my brother later told me that he thought Chris liked me, and I inquired into why, he stopped short of saying that a blind man could see. Being with Chris is easy, I am comfortable telling him the most personal things about me, he's been honest with me from the beginning, and in all honesty, it's not always what I wanted to hear. He's never asked for more than my friendship, which I'm happy to give, but we both really like each other. Perhaps it's the "early twenties change", or I've met my match both intellectually, physically, and otherwise. :) Yes, he is in an unfortunate situation, and while we both wish it wasn't so, he has expressed to me that he knows what he did was wrong, and he needed to be locked up to change his life. That people that [do what he did] "need to be locked up." We all do bad things, he just got caught.

I can't guarantee, like anyone, that it will last forever. I can't guarantee it'll last 10 minutes. But I know that I like him, and like Tim, I have a good feeling about this one.

Before I left for my trip ideas of a casual sexual encounter were traded, bluffs were called, hotels were booked, only to be canceled later. I can say with 100% honesty that I swear to GOD I thought it was only that, a casual sexual encounter. If feelings were hurt, it was never my intention, and I can only hope my apologies are taken at face value.

When I returned from my trip I changed my "relationship staus" on Myspace to reflect "In A Relationship." To do this day, Chris and I have still never discussed to one-another what this is. And I'm 100% okay with that. The change was entirely (at the time) due to very annoying (but not yet to the point of harassment) text messages from a former flame. Hoping to extinguish any hopes of reconcilation, I changed the status. I have taken a lot of heat from people about this. Again I swear to GOD this was the truth. As of recently though, I have decided to remain single, at least for the time being. Whether or not Chris and I can be "together" in the traditional sense, he makes me happy, and it would be unfair to become involved with someone else, to all parties involved. This decision is fully suported by my personality in which I have never been able to like two guys at once, as I will always lean more towards one than the other.

In terms of Josh, I received a message on Myspace from him addressing the "In A Relationship" question. I wasn't avoiding your e-mail, but like so many other e-mails, I didn't have time to reply, and forgot. Talk to any of my friends on Myspace that didn't get a reply for three months. It's a flaw I'm going to have to work on. Luckily you perservered, on my lunch break. Unfortunately, at the time, I was attempting to order checks from my bank and asked you to hold on. As much as it seems I was blowing you off, the phone call took longer than expected, and the answer was detailed, so I told you I would talk to you about it later. Still you responded favorably.

When we did eventually talk, I explained the story listed above. I found your reply comment of "So you're not dating a convict " to be both uncalled for and offensive. I responded in my normal sarcastic way, not lying once. I'm sorry that you took offense to the comment that "I wouldn't tell you if I was." It was intended to be sarcastic, not serious. I am in no way faulting you for taking it that way, but knowing me, I would assume you (like you have so many times in the past) to let the comment roll off your back like water.

Fact of the matter is that I would tell you. I realize, as we have previously discussed, that a relationship with Chris would be unlike any other relationship I've had. I'm aware that even after his release date, the kind of prejudices I, and he are going to face in every aspect of life. I sincerely did not expect it from my friends though. There are times when a person makes a decision, and regardless of the ration of shit they receive from people, that they stand behind their decision. This is one of those times. In reality, I keep an open book, revealing things at my own pace. Everyone is on a "need-to-know" basis. Of course, I try to reveal things to those closest to me, and/or those involved prior to "letting them read it on the internet".

I have my suspicions as to your "off-handed remark", and your now casual attitude towards me. If you don't wish to be friends anymore, a simple e-mail with the subject line stating as much is sufficient. I hate to throw away four years of friendship, but all good things must come to an end. If this is the end of our chapter allow me to say that I wish you the utmost happiness both in life, and with Katie. Despite my initial misgivings, I have come to realize she is a good-woman, and good for you. You have grown incredibly as a person, and I hope you will continue to do so- both individually and together. Thank you for all you have done for me, and perhaps like so many times before, our paths will cross later down the line.

Ultimately though, I feel I'm being held responsible for taking people at face-value. If you remember, on the car-ride home I mentioned to you how KB and I were finally back to the people we were prior to that disaster known as our relationship. And I was grateful. If he misrepresented his intentions of what he thought December 29th was going to be then I apologize for misleading him, but ultimately then he needs to accept some blame as well.

If that's not the reason for your discrepancy, well then I have never known you to not be upfront, and I'm fully expecting an explanation at some point.

Thanks for being understanding of my need to get this off my mind.

Trade The Truth In For A Lie

The thing no one ever tells you about confessions is that once you confess, you only feel more vulnerable.

Take for example, something as simple as "the talk". You know once you initiate that "where are we" conversation a)there's no going back, and b)you may not like the answer. Not to even mention the awkward position it puts someone else in.

Or how society is always encouraging us to "free ourselves of guilt" by confessing to our misdoings. (I think that's primarily the Catholic church, but you get the point). The truth is though, that if you doing something that's not technically a crime, but is morally wrong (like cheating with your best friend's man), why should you be obligated to relieve yourself of the guilt, and making someone else suffer?

Magazines (Cosmo and the like) are always weighing in on whether to tell your best gal pal whether or not her man is a dog- like he made a pass at you- or worse, you caught him cheating. The answer is always surprisingly the same. No. Aside from the fact that she will eventually come to the realization on her own, it could put a definitive strain on YOUR relationship.

Isn't it true that lies are shelter from the harsh realities that be? And why should we be honest with other people, knowing the outcome, when we can't first be honest with ourselves?

No, in a world where we're taught to tell the truth, there is no comfort, no safe haven. The world is not ready for the truth, as much as we're not ready to lead the solitary lives it presents...

So that no one misinterprets the details...

During one of my nightmares the phone actually rang, and I picked it up. Much to my delight, it was actually my cousin, calling to talk business.

But instead, the first words out of his mouth were "Your boyfriend is going to call you on Friday."

"....."

"......"

"When did THAT happen?"

Apparently my cousin has just been bugging Chris about the whole "are we an item" thing. And the answer remains the same "WE HAVEN'T TALKED ABOUT IT."

He further proved his good guy nature by telling my cousin that he could "Never ask me to make that kind of commitment given his situation." To which my reply is, "Regardless of whether a title is involved, if I say I'm going to be here, then in 10 minutes, or 10 years I'm either still going to be here, or I'm not. And if I'm not, then no prison can tie me down if I don't want to be."

It also appears that my cousin has been walking around inadvertantly using titles as opposed to names. "Your boyfriend" for me, and "Your girlfriend" to Chris.

Neither of us have a further comment on the subject. Furthermore, we both like each other, AND MY BROTHER, WHOM HAS MET HIM, AND IS POSSIBLY THE MOST JUDGEMENTAL PERSON ON EARTH NOT ONLY LIKE HIM, BUT APPROVES!. So ha.

Laying Off the Sleep

Christmas was really kind of a blur, and that's how I kind of prefer to remember it. For me, Christmas came early this year, and although I had asked for things, what I wanted (and had received) was not under the Christmas tree. (Although Anil telling me not to be disappointed when he wasn't under there DID make me laugh).

My mother and stepfather came down for Christmas dinner, which was short-lived. I later found out that she had a HUGE fight with my stepfather prior to coming down, and that Tim found her crying. So our incessant need to joke around was not a comfort technique she'd choose to employ. (As if I was somehow supposed to instinctively know).

Later I ended up sleeping for ridiculous amounts of time. The end result was "night terrors" when I dreamed there were two casket-like boxes. One for me, one for dirt, and other non-me crap. They tried to put me into the wrong box! My brother came running when he heard me screaming, and he said that I was standing in the middle of my room. I immediately got back into bed, and continued to sleep until the alarm went off the next morning.

Last night didn't prove to have any night terrors, just nightmares. It included an altercation with my stepfather, being chased, ending up in church, and dropping the phone when "J" somehow magically got my new number.

Needless to say I'm laying off of the sleep...

Poor...

My mother really surprised me on Christmas Eve. I walked into the house, after several hours of intense cleaning (why one needs to clean an already clean house is beyond me), to find a dissaray of food sitting on the kitchen table.

"Are you still coming down for Christmas dinner tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't we?" replied my mother.

She asked why, and I explained how I had come to that conclusion.

"OH," She said. "YOU'RE GONNA LOVE THIS."

Apparently, while my stepfather was with a customer (don't fall over, and die from the shock of his actually working), a Lutheran Church from the Royersford area, stopped by to drop off a Christmas dinner for us. Which would be fine, except someone told them that we were POOR.

To further complicate things, my brother, Tim, has a friend named Kevin. Kevin's parents have more money than we could ever imagine, but they're convinced that my brother is the male form of a golddigger. The kid who has enough money to buy his own car at 16. The kid whom never buys anything. When they found out Tim and Kevin had opened a bank account together, to begin saving for a business post-graduation, they threatened to eliminate Kevin's inheritance, disown him, and kick him out if the account didn't cease to exist. Kevin's father was the customer.

Bruce tried to explain to the church that we weren't in need of the food, and to provide it to someone who legitimately wasn't going to have Christmas dinner, but the Church refused to take it back.

After going through the list of people who a) actually attend church b) are Lutheran and c) attend a church in Royersford, the only logical explanation is that my step-brother was up to no good. My mother believes, that he went looking for donations for HIS MOTHER to cook him a Christmas dinner, since she lives off disability, but the package arrived after he left to go to his mother's.

Needless to say, he's going to be in a lot of trouble, with everyone, when he returns home.

All I Want For Christmas...

I recently returned home from another excellent trip to North Carolina. On this occasion though, we stayed at the Red Roof Inn, which was phenomenal. It’s an excellent hotel, and quite populated as you move down through the southern states.

The bed was so comfortable, I begged my brother to haul it home. Unfortunately for me, the bed was slightly larger than my room, and would render me without a dresser or any other novelties, much less a bed frame.

Much to my surprise, towards the evening hours, even the hot water was in plenty of supply. My only complaint about the entire place was that I wasn’t sure, given the composition, whether the shower curtain belonged on the inside, or outside of the shower. Regardless of positioning, a shitload of water still ended up on the floor.

The visit with Chris, of course, went well. There was one point where I asked him to “pretend” we were together as I was drawing some unwanted attention from another inmate. He, of course, complied, and actually ended up holding my hand, much to my surprise. I got to visit with him both days, and I was greeted, and departed from with both hugs and kisses.

I learned a great deal about him this weekend, and told him quite a bit of personal stuff about myself. I’ve never seen someone who cared more about the well-being of an absolute stranger, and for that alone I’m grateful. He has continued to prove that he is one of the good guys, by doing the simple things: calling when he says he will, being honest, and considering things from my perspective.

I wish I was capable of saying that with every visit gone, leaving has become easier. The fact is that it hasn’t. I like Chris, a lot, and according to him he “likes me a lot too.” But there’s more to leaving than just Chris, it’s my genuine love for the state of North Carolina. You can’t fully know until you visit, as it just kind of sucks you in with it’s perfect temperatures, and Southern charm. So while you may be dreaming of a white Christmas, I’m dreaming of one more on the sunnier, Southern side.

No Cliff

Tonight I finally got my car back. The diagnosis? A really strange coincidence. I swear, at some point, I'm going to drive this car off a cliff. So when I inquired as to what the liquid running out as fast as we put it in was, I was told it was excess antifreeze, that the container was already full, and it was overflowing. That the gauge may have been acting crazy, but all in all nothing was wrong with the car. Having taken almost this entire paycheck, that was a bit of a relief.

So for now, now car drama, and no cliff.

A Surprise Ending...

Last night was a very frustrating evening for me. For one thing I don't like being sans car, even if I am driving my grandparent's jeep. I definitely try to be respectful with someone else's property, and not driving their car all over the place is just one of those things. Especially since they didn't have to be as generous as they are, and letting me use it.

Of course my sciatic nerve decides that THEN is ample time to flare up, leaving me drugged on anti-inflams, and lying in bed when the phone rings. Figuring it was Dan trying convince me that a date is "in the cards" for us, I became aware of how blind I truly am. (Put it this way, I'm lucky that I managed to flip the phone open before it stopped ringing).

Once my brain realized who it was- Chris- it was quite the fumble getting the phone open. What I was met with were instructions that I had to add a feature to my phone to accept calls from inmates. I go through the whole process, without so much as time to grab the credit card of choice (as opposed to the first one brightly gleaming from my wallet) before they were requesting the information for their $10 service fee.

I get through all of that, and my options are: Press 1 to add funds to your account. Press 2 to talk about your account or Press 3 for something else I can't remember at the moment. None of the options were "Talk to your inmate".

I sat and stared at the phone in disbelief! Call back! I realize it took a great deal of courage to make the first move and I'm proud of you now call back. A watched pot may eventually boil, but a watched phone (and the frequent tapping on the face plate, willing it to ring) definitely does not guarantee a phone call.

I watched a bit of tv before flipping over, exasperated, knowing full well that if I was in 50 feet of the kitchen those cookies (which I really don't need btw) would end up in my mouth.

Soon the phone DID ring though much to my surprise. Also much to my surprise, the conversation flowed easily, with a few awkward silences (to be expected) which were quickly recovered like a fumbled football.

Needless to say I can only imagine what hoops and hurdles I'll have to tackle before getting the prize of a 5 day weekend, and 3 day trip to North Carolina.

I Probably Wouldn't Be This Way...

That simple gesture of KB's not only rendered me a bawling, babbling idiot in the car (and thank God for Josh whom without I probably would've crashed), but also until I fell asleep in bed last night.

It not only reminded me of the water story, or the Christmas Shoes song that always leaves me crying, but of a time not that long ago when KB came through for me.

Back when I was still running with the likes of "J", I was down in NJ visiting KB. It was getting late, and I was getting pretty tired, but at "J"'s insistence, I promised to drive back to Philly to pick up his best friend when he was done work. "J"'s best friend is a good guy, for the most part. If he wasn't messed up with so many illegal substances, I might be inclined to say he's "sweet" and "someone I would've considered dating".

Well his being "sweet" and "thoughtful" landed him in the driver's seat at 2 a.m. "Just lay back, and relax, and get some sleep," he told me. He reassured me he had gotten his license back, and even resting my eyes would be good for me.

Well unfortunately all good intentions (and good they were), got us pulled over. On the side of the road. In Philly. At 3 a.m. The police officer ran his information only to find: his license was still suspended. So even though I was in the car, and could produce identification (and did so) that I was the owner of the car, and licensed to drive, they towed my car anyway, and told me to show up at traffic court on Monday.

The police officer told me that "well we can't be driving back to Collegeville" so they dropped me off at "T"'s house, and left me there. From the side of the highway (before I knew they wouldn't just leave me on 95) I called my mom's house several times to be met with no answer. I called home and asked for my brother, and my testy grandmother replied that "he had to work in the morning" before refusing to come pick me up.

"J" was no help either. As many times as he'd forced me to "think outside the box" and "find a way" he wasn't going to help me either. I did the only thing I could think of and dialed KB. (I didn't have enough $ for a 45 min cab ride).

It took him 3 hours to get to me. The city is confusing to us people from the suburbs. It was 6 a.m. when I finally got into the car, and we began the journey to my house. I live about 1 hour and 15 minutes away from KB. I'm about 45 minutes from where I was in the city. So the man spent well over 4 hours making sure that I made it home safely, ON NO SLEEP, when my own family wouldn't. He then drove straight home, without taking a second to sleep. I'm not even sure he made it directly to his destination without ending up where he didn't intend to be.

We broke up because of KB's inability to balance his responsibilities with his relationship. I've always felt that he let me down that day. But I've also always preached that "When people are looking at your situation from the outside they can make judgements, and comment on how you should've done this or that. But when you're in the situation, and you're at a fork in the road with a SECOND to make a decision, you can only do what's best for you at that given moment".

Now maybe you'd call this revelation exciting if it just hit me yesterday. But recently I got a taste of my own medicine when dealing with "as dumb as a rock". I needed to balance the needs of a parent with the needs of my children, and inadvertantly left my children with no teacher, and only that parent. (More about that story later). Now if you told me "Don't live kids alone" I would've said "DUH!" But when you're trying to balance everything, you can't fault someone for being true to their word.

So while I don't deny that the guilt is my cross to bear, and the lessons well learned I want him to know that I'm letting it go. And regardless of the outcome, thanks for being a best friend to me. Even if you make me cry (in a good way).

A simple glass of water...

My mom has worked for the Post Office for as long as I can remember. Before I was of legal driving age, she would pick me and my brother up (during the summer, for example), and have us help to deliver the mail on the perchance that was her assignment for the day.

The one day she picked me up, and I believe I started out driving. Having never driven before, I was completely at a loss for distance of something that was twice my size! She'd get (almost to the point of violence) pissed if I was too close, and REALLY pissed if I was too far away. We ended up switching, but there was no clear cut break between who's mail was who's and you had to be quick. I can only imagine how many people didn't get the right mail that day.

I remember it was hot, so for some reason July is sticking out in my mind. My mother has a way of being incredibly cruel, but she doesn't mask it at all. Words like "cunt" and a series of words that would make a sparring combination (a series of kicks and punches mixed up as to throw off an opponent) look less scary than mild wings. I've gotten considerably thicker skin in my recent years, but as a kid- THIS WAS MY MOM! It cut me deeper than a knife, on more than one occassion.

We approached this one house where we had to deliver a package, and a man, whom to this day I can't tell you what he looked like, whom had been mowing his lawn approached the car.

"It sure is hot out here," he said.

"Yes, it is." I agreed never letting my eyes look at him, let alone up at him.

"Would you like a drink of water?" he asked?

"Oh no thank you," I replied, still never looking at the man.

Maybe my voice gave me away, but I didn't have the strength anyway to lift my eyes to this stranger. His kindness has always stuck with me. That an absolute stranger was more kind to me than my own mother. I think that hurt worse that day than her comments.

I don't live in the past, although a few things have stuck with me. I don't like to think about it, and I definitely don't bring it up.

So today when I headed down to McFadden's (i.e. the restaurant attached to Citizen's Bank Park) to meet up with the Crusin Cripples (i.e. two of my best friends) er one of the Crusin' Cripples as I already had one, and his fiancee in tow, I hadn't planned on anything more than a good time. A short time later I was finding out how wrong I had been.

The drive down was pretty uneventful, other than my copilot being a REALLY bad Copilot, and his fiancee from 500 miles away having more of a clue than the driver, and shotgun passenger. Of course we did face 50 mile per hour torrential winds, but other than that, and playing chicken on Broad Street, it was uneventful.

Inside the game was a decent one (my team won as well for all who care), but the conversation was better. We all rag on one another, so naturally it made for some interesting conversations TO INCLUDE: (dum dum dum) whether KB actually plans to show up on the 29th. Unfortunately for KB, bets were placed against him right in front of him. So whether that ups the ante, I don't really know...

After the game we all planned to go back to Josh's place to hang out for a bit, but unfortunately my car decided to leak out all antifreeze (despite being "fixed" a relatively short time ago- or as Josh put it- "Did Bruce fix it?" Yup. "Oh shit, we're gonna blow up") and leave us stranded on a side street about 500 feet from KB whom had absolutely no idea where to go to get to us. So Katie being the trooper that she is, walked I don't know how far to get a container of antifreeze. Of course I freaked out the whole time!

We did make it back to Josh's without incident, and I immediately decided to head home. I asked Josh if they minded following me home god forbid anything happened. They agreed, and Josh called KB to ask, whom said he didn't mind at all. We made it back to my house without the car overheating once which afforded me time to bawl my eyes out, and talk candidly to Josh. Who kind of sort of, actually doesn't believe me.

Long story short, KB drove not only to Citizen's Bank Park from NJ, and then back to Josh's apartment, but he also followed me home to make sure that I didn't have a problem, and drove back to Josh's apartment to drop them off, only to drive back home to NJ. Yeah, maybe all he was going to do was watch tv, or sit in front of the computer, but the man didn't hesitate. And both he and Josh told me to "shut the fuck up" when I tried to profusely apologize leaving me in tears, much the way that kind man did when he offerred me a simple glass of water.

Just Gimme a Road and A Little Gasoline...

Today, finally getting caught up on my to do list, I broke my cardinal rule of life, and went to an alternative hairdresser for my hair cut. I wasn't sure where the place was, so I left a little bit early, and headed into Trappe to find it. I ended up arriving without too much of an incident 1/2 hour early.

The girl cutting my hair, talked my ear off but she did a great job so I didn't mind. She was surprisingly quiet given that she's 1/2 Argentinian, and 1/2 Italian. She also told me how many languages she's been exposed to...amazing.

After that I headed over to get my eyebrows done, and actually waited longer in the nail salon than in the hair salon! And I only paid $15 for the cut. So ha ha. I've never only paid 15 for a cut my whole life. And I tipped graciously.

I rounded out the day with a run to target and I can officially say that a short work week, a few workouts, and packing I will be ready to head back to NC. I'll be gone from Thursday at midnight (technically Friday) to Sunday. (I have to work Monday).

I tried to go to the gym, driving all the way to freakin' King of Prussia only to find that they close at 8. Update your website!

Oh and I'm totally crushing on Vince from Entourage...

Tea in the Fridge...

Lately I have been working late in addition to to trying to juggle the end of term b.s. that is associated with finals. I finally got done writing all papers, and doing all the tests, and managed to even put a few people in their places today.

For example, at lunch I came home after two hours with "dumb as a rock" and her giving me attitude. First let me say that she does not know who's she's dealing with. And if she keeps up her bullshit, I will rip her goddamn head off, and hand it back to her unrecognizable, and probably less aesthetically pleasing. Essentially, when I *SNAP* she'll be the first to go.

I came home to find out that the cats are pissing in the living room floor because the litterboxes aren't being changed frequently enough. My answer: change the litterboxes more often. My mom says "They're not my cats." Right, but this is YOUR floor. She didn't appreciate that answer. Her problem was that after seeing the cat do it, my dog jumped off her chair and went over and pissed next to it. So my mom made her go out and stay out until I got home for lunch (30 min max).

I didn't say she shouldn't be punished, I didn't say the way she was punished was wrong, in fact I probably would've done the same thing! But she was in a dramatic mood, and refused to talk to me the rest of my lunch break.

Then last night I came back to use the DSL computer for homework. It affords me a better connection, so I'm not likely to lose answers to a test royally screwing me. I didn't read any of the chapters in my Child Psychology book and so I'm looking up every single answer. After Bruce's company leaves (his druggie friend Drew and his apparent larger girlfriend, whom must be blind if she's taken with Drew) he decides to call upon me to run his errands.

So I flipped the shit. I told him "First of all no. Second of all I'm taking a test, and I need to take a third. I have so much shit to do, and I'm under a lot of pressure." I'm pretty sure there were a few more curse words in the heat of the moment. Then I felt really bad because I'm not the type of person to spazz over stupid shit. And I sounded like my mother.

So I told him I needed a break and asked if he had money for iced tea because I was thirsty and would like a drink. He replied yes, but since I was going to Audubon I could get cigarettes, and a small bottle of Jaeger. I gave him a look. He replied "I'll share."

"I don't want alcohol. I want this shit done. And I'm not your bitch."

"I didn't say you were. But you drink it."

"So do you. And I shouldn't have to run your goddamn errands all the fuckien time!"

"Well then I can do it myself."

"Good"

He put his money away, and there still isn't tea in the fridge.

Work Bullshit

This week was a particularly tough one. I've had trouble at work- which I'll get to in a second- and I've been really stressed trying to get everything done.

The work drama began when they stuck me with "dumb as a rock" again. They've been doing that a lot lately. As KB would say "Why are you the kid with the magnifying glass, and I'm the ant?"

I was sitting with my back (the wrong thing to do in childcare btw) to a small section of the room where consequently two children were playing. For some reason, I decided to turn around, and I saw one of the children smack the other in the face, and told her "No thank you! We don't hit our friends!" 2 seconds later she was crying hysterically. When I asked her "what happened?" she came over to me, and I found a serious bite mark.

Dumb as a rock knew to wash it out with soap and water, but didn't know to put an ice pack, so I told her too. "Really?" she replied, not moving to get an ice pack. No one has ever told me that." Well duh, soap and water will kill any bacteria, but that won't make it feel better! Of course this is the idiot that can't count backward from 9.....

As soon as I get the paperwork ready, and I'm about to call the parents (so they have time to calm down before they get there), I see her father walk by, I have one family that always needs help out, and I am stressed. I spot my director and call her over. My mind goes blank as we're trying to talk through the door! She can't get in, and I can't leave the room...what am I going to do? So I'm trying to explain through the door, and I can't formulate the words. Suddenly I blurt out "Kids A name bit another kid." She gives me the dirtiest look and tells me there's a parent right there. I know there is, that's not what I meant to say! (Parents aren't to know who the biting child is unless they are the biter's parent).

So I apologized, trying to get my head together....and she told me she'd be in, in a few minutes which she never did.

By this time, the parent walked in, demanding to know what happened. They already don't like "Dumb as a rock", and this was just further compounding the problem! The idiot told them that she didn't see it, I explained what I had seen, and what I hadn't (the child bite her). He asked if it was the same child biting her. I told him that I wasn't at liberty to say. He left without incident.

The next day he approached her teachers and told them that THEY need to watch the children more carefully, as if it's somehow possible to watch one, let alone all of the children all the time.

The problem was finally resolved when they spoke to the other teacher who reassured them that it was not the same child as before.

So if you're a parent understand that one year olds bite. They don't yet have the abilities to express their frustrations, and so they bite. Not to mention this is a major teething time. It happens!

And that I could probably be fired for writing this. So don't tell my job....

Yeah I Still Feel Like I'm Where I'm Supposed To Be

So I officially got a letter from a college today saying I've been accepted. That didn't surprise me, frankly with a 3.5 GPA, and applications to 13 different colleges, I'm expecting "yes" from every single one of them!

What REALLY surprised me was that during the intial college search process, I checked all the websites of the colleges, and my major was offered at that college. As they were making their decision, they began to send me loads of information on the college, and all it offers. As I reviewed the application (I submitted mine online), I found that it appeared they didn't have my major! So you can imagine how disappointed I was when I found out they were willing to offer me a nice yearly academic scholarship that would almost pay for a semester of Room and Board by itself!

Then, I finally reviewed all the papers in the envelope. In there was a Program Evaluation. What that means is they take all the courses you've had and tell you what will transfer into their college, and what you need to obtain through them to get your full degree. And guess what was at the top? Spanish Teaching with Licensure! I'm so excited! But I'm holding out, until I hear from all my colleges.

My mom, on the other hand, isn't so ectastic about the whole college process because it means I'll be 7 hours away from everything familiar. And I'll admit that it's going to be tough, but I need to do this. And don't worry, I'll be back.

All Kodak Machines Are Not Created Equal

Today I finally got the extra pictures that Tim mailed to me from campus. Unfortunately they hadn't arrived in time for us to duplicate, and/or otherwise mess with them in Harrisburg.

So thinking that one Kodak picture scanner fits all, I went to Rite Aid tonight to try and make the copies. I was quickly disappointed. Unlike the Kodak machine at Walmart, this machine wouldn't make individual copies, it was only three to a page. And they didn't print out below the machine, you had to obtain them individually from the photo copy section, they weren't cut (naturally I want 3 pictures on a paper to just "frame", and they were $7.99 sheet.

The man rang me up $40.00 worth of pictures, missing one of the sheets WHICH I TOLD HIM TO CHECK IF THERE WERE MORE SHEETS, and made me pay individually as a result of his impatience.

The best part was that when I asked if they could cut them they said SURE! and handed me a pair of scissors! I'm like "uh I can do that much at home!" No really the REALLY best part was that when I went to cut the pictures apart that they looked nothing like a professional 4 x 6 photo. I could've bought photo paper- a whole pack of photo paper for the same price I paid for a single sheet of that shitty paper, and printed it off my computer!

Christmas Shopping...

Today I headed up to PSU Harrisburg to meet up with my brother, check out his dorm, confirm Christmas Trip plans, and to go shopping!

First we went to the outlets at Hershey which with very few ideas turned out to be highly productive. Then we headed to Walmart to continue shopping, and to use the Kodak picture maker to edit some pictures for my cousin. Not to mention it provided time for some seriously candid talking time.

Here's what I got:

Tim:

1. A $25 gift card to Aeropostale
2. I sweater, and 1 tee (for me) at Aero
3. A brownie pan with a snapping lid
4. A 2008 Doggie Wisdom Calendar for my mom
5. A CD case
6. Pictures
7. Towels (Mom)
8. A Walmart Gift Card
9. 2 movies for my mom
10. A bunch of other stuff I can't recall right now, but distinctly remember wrapping!

When I got back "home" I immediately headed to KOP and bought the Diesel cologne that he's raving about, and a few things inside Bloomingdales for me. Why? Because I'm worth it!

And then I went home and wrapped everything. My to do list is slowly decreasing. I still need a haircut, eyebrows, to do my paper on Autism, study for a Bio test, create a Final Exam review, take 2 psychology tests, and do a Target run!

Christmas Plans...

A while ago when I was still actively bartending, a man came into my bar, and sat down. And he began to tell me that every Christmas he and his family adopted another family from the Salvation Army. They would then buy everything, to include a Christmas tree for the family, and just get together for the holiday and talk, and eat. But as everyone became harder, and harder to buy for, they wanted to make it about someone else.

So I presented the idea to my family, and my mom and my brother were the only 2 to jump on the train. We waited, and waited until the family finally came close to Thanksgiving. My mom was the only one who remained on the train with me. And thankfully (since I'm majorly poor) she paid for all the gifts for the family. We got everything from toys to coats, and some outfits, to books, and I donated lots of baby stuff, diningware, etc. that I had as my way of letting go of the past.

And we did this all today. The gifts have to be delivered in Center City on the 13th or 14th of December, which my mom and Bruce will have to coordinate. We've decided not to work with the Salvation Army again because they predetermine a minimum limit of $100 per person. With 4 people that was a minimum of $400. I realize the idea is to give to someone who isn't going to have anything, but isn't the idea to give from the heart?

A Really Tought Subject

If you talk to Josh (without question, one of my best friends) he'll tell you that I sprung this entire idea of a new guy on him. And I did...kind of. But before I get into all that, let me give you the vitals on Chris.

First, there's the easy stuff: He's 27, an Aquarius (bday is January 30th I believe), he has a 4 1/2 year old daughter (Amber). He lives in NC- Butner to be exact. His dad works for IBM, his mom I don't know if she works, he works in Education- both the teaching of, and tutoring. He's tall - 6'2 or so, and skinny. He has dark hair, and blue eyes. He's actively involved in sports- he's #1 out of everyone on the baseball team, and he likes Peyton Manning although in his words "If Peyton went to the Jets, I'd like the Jets." And he likes the Patriots.

And then there's the less than stellar information I'd like to admit. Like I met him through my cousin who's incarcerated. And that's the only comment I'm going to make about that.

So I laid my feelings on the line, and I waited to hear back from him. And while I did Katie, Josh and I found ourselves at Olive Garden for the salad. Yes, they have the best salad. While we were there, we exposed to a waiter who was on fire (figuratively speaking, of course), and provided poor service (as reflected in his tip), but perhaps the best part was when all the pieces clicked together for Josh and suddenly he went "OH!"

Needless to say we discussed the challenges this could potentially present, and ways of being realistic about it between now and oh say 2013. Drugs- Meth to be specific.

When the return letter finally returned with his reply it said that he found the whole idea of waiting to be "positively ridiculous". But he wanted to be friends and keep in touch. (Which was not so clearly spelled out, and Josh defined for me).

In his next letters though he was a bit more relaxed, and even used such pet names as "sweetie"!

I've chalked it up to being that a) I have no idea what he really meant in his reply and b) even if I did, until a move and/or his release, I'm not going to.

Starting Point for Negotiations

Recently my job put out a letter to a bunch of employees saying that their files were incomplete, and they needed the following information: list of information. I know, because I was one of the people that received the letter. Some of the ridiculous parts were 6 references. 3 verbal, 3 written. Those were hard to come by, and eventually I made my family/friends write them for me.

The other thing was CPR certification. I took a CPR/First Aid class in college, about 2 years ago now. But I didn't pay the lousy $10 to get certified because, let's face it, college students are poor. So I had to repeat the class. I called and called and called only to get 1 organization to call me back.

We were told if we didn't submit all the necessary materials by December 3rd we were being sent home, and not being paid. I took a MAJOR pay cut to take this job, and I can't afford to miss a single minute.

CPR is only offerred through this organization, the first Tuesday of the month. So not even thinking about the date, I went and scheduled it for Tuesday, the same day (as I later found out) as a staff meeting.

Staff meetings at my job are MANDATORY. So I wrote a note with my other information saying "Hey I can't make the staff meeting because of my CPR class".

No one said a word about it until today. I was told that "I should've told someone, and they would've told me to skip the CPR and they'd get me on the next round. That I missed blood-borne pathogens, and we were going to have to find a way to make that up."

It really left me feeling upset for a while! I did what I was told to do, and was expected to do something completely different. I didn't realize "you will be sent home, and not paid" was a starting point for negotiations...

I'm Already Thinking About My Birthday

I'm down to almost 2 weeks until I head to North Carolina once again. This time I'm a little more nervous and I've planned appropriately, I hope.

First, I've met a guy. An honest-to-goodness guy. I met him through my cousin, Bill. We've been exchanging letters for about a month now. His circumstances aren't ideal, but they do provide an interesting foundation from which to work on, more about that later.

Like any good "first date" (his word, not mine), I've carefully planned my outfit to be something with heels, but casual (jeans) that makes me feel fantabulous. I've debuted my outfit to the mirror only once so far, but it works.

I'm also leaving the night before (Thursday at midnight)to where we'll be getting to NC around 7 a.m. We have plans to meet up around 2:30 or so, so on the perchance I can't sleep the night before (like my last trip) I'm not debuting the "I've slept less than one hour in the last 36 hours" again. I can relax, sleep, and/or shower for maximum effect.

And if all that fails...KB has promised me a REALLY GOOD birthday present. :)

What They Won't Tell You, I Will

Before I got my first (and to date only) tattoo, I was really concerned about the pain DURING the whole process. After all, it wasn't like I was a fan of needles, and the idea of having severeal drilled into me, to ensure it made to every layer of permanancy really scared me.

Then suddenly my tattoo day was upon me, and Iwas nervously sitting in the tattoo chair, holding onto my cousin's hand for dear life. But I quickly found out the whole process was...mildly uncomfortable.

What they don't tell you about your first tattoo:

1. It's going to be your "baby". Meaning that you have special care instructions to clean and maintain it with ointment, and it will become very important to you as if you were caring for a living thing.

2. While the process during doesn't hurt that much (your endorphins kick in, and my tattooist uses sanitizer with Lidocaine), when you get done, and decide to go to dinner is when the real discomfort sets in. Similar to a brush burn, BURN it does. But no more than a brush burn, really.

3. Your first shower you will make the water temperature too warm and you will want to rip other places of skin right off your body. Excruciating does not begin to explain hot water in a brush burn.

4. About a week into it, you will be revisiting your skin ripping off tendencies when the tattoo starts to heal. Because it's going to itch like you have itching powder, and thousands of fleas that Advantix can't touch. Apply your ointment, several layers of protection for the night, and a t-shirt (cotton).

5. You will become vain, and often look at yourself in shock every time you catch a glipse of your new found art in the mirror.

That's all for now. What a way to kick off December, huh?

To be continued...

I unintentionally broke the news to Josh and his fiancee last night. The news about my new interest, my intent to move to NC, and what this means for all of us.

I headed to Josh's last night slightly earlier than anticipated, to just hang out and catch up. Deciding food was in the cards, we decided to grab something as soon as Katie made it in from work.

While we were talking, the inevitable question of whether I was dating someone arose. I explained that I was somewhat in between, that I had just put myself out there, and I was awaiting an answer.

"Why didn't you just e-mail him," Josh asked? "You would've gotten a response much faster!"

"E-mail wasn't a possibility,"

"Damn, I thought North Carolina was at least semi up-to-date with technology."

"Josh, 1920's gas pumps"

Eventually the evening led into more serious conversations, once Josh was consciously aware of what was going on, and the shock value wore off, we had some very serious conversations.

To be continued...you know, when I feel like exposing my personal business to the internet, and all...

Jinx!

Yesterday I received possibly the best news all day. My cousin called from North Carolina to tell me the really important decision I was waiting on, got approved!

While I know that doesn't mean a whole lot to you guys just yet, know that it's a BIG DEAL. Yeah my family gave me that same look when I freaked out the equivalent of someone winning a million dollars. Hey, the small things in life bring me the most happiness.

I'd tell you, but I'm honestly more afraid of jinxing it than I am of any of your opinions regarding the situation.

Suffice to say that I'm working my way back to healthy, and happiness is definitely in the cards, at least for the moment.

Laid Up

You! Yeah you! Come over here and let me breathe on you. My lovely children (the ones who can't yet appreciate the art of covering their noses, mouths, or washing their hands) have officially gotten me sick. And now I want to share the wealth...

I have officially been laid up for four days, and if normal breathing doesn't resume soon, I'm going to cry. So either coming bearing some "witches brew" that will make me better, or be prepared to suffer the consequences.

Oh and...Happy Thanksgiving!

She apparently has it out for me...

I didn't sleep at all tonight, not a wink. Perhaps it had to do with my altercation or lack there of this morning, with the child abuse accusing mother.

First and foremost let me say that her child only comes into class twice per week. She entered the classroom to find I already had two children. The children are siblings, and their parents whom usually drop them off, were away on a trip. So therefore the grandparents dropped them off, the grandparents that they spend their days not in school (they only come three days per week) with dropped off. So there was a lot of emotions running high as it was among the children.

One of my children is particularly fearful of certain parents when they enter the room. She will literally climb on me to feel comfort from being exposed this person, and when the abuse accusing mother walked in the room, it was no exception.

Her sibling had already asked for his cup, and we have them sit down whenever they're eating or drinking. I walked around with her on my hip for a good portion of the dropoff time of the other child. I knew the child still with her mother was going to be having a hard time in a minute or so, so I attempted to put down the child I was holding, providing physical contact, and speaking in a low, calming voice to explain what was going to happen. Somewhat of a drama queen, a tantrum ensued, I continued with calming words, and offerring her a drink. Of course she would have to sit in the chair to have a drink, which she accepted.

The mother quietly left the room, and went to my supervisor. She told my supervisor that the children were being FORCED to sit in a chair when they were crying, and they weren't playing with any toys. My supervisor entered the room to check up on the situation, and all melt downs had ceased to exist. The siblings were still sitting quietly sipping their juice. My supervisor returned to the mother, and explained that everyone was doing as they were supposed to.

But it's still aggravating that she has it out for me!

Friday at Midnight

Is it Friday at midnight yet? I know I should be more excited, but I am one point five working days, a workout, and a Biology test away from actually leaving, and that's affecting my excited state.

Friday at midnight is when Tim (my younger brother), and I begin our mini-road trip to North Carolina. Suffice it to say that I'm going to visit some family, and potentially someone my cousin introduced me to. (We've sent a few messages back and forth). Seeing him may be a challenge on this trip, but I am certainly looking forward to the possibility.

So make that one point five working days, a workout, a Biology test, packing, going to the bank and Target, laundry, kissing my dog, and dragging my lazy ass out of bed after a long ass work day before midnight away from leaving.

But I'm sure all will go well. Someone be sure to tune in to Josh and Kb's radio show this weekend, and let me know when they go to town on the football scene. Because I'll want to call in, and defend. ;)

"Stay"

I had the pleasure of speaking with Dean on Monday night. As he relayed the intimate details of his last relationship to me, I listened quietly as a bit of envy creeped in. He explained that given X situation, he felt guilty for his former flame engaging in certain activities that were a) inappropriate and b) not his fault.

I didn't fault him for feeling bad, despite my initial reaction to do so. Just because you're not supposed to feel a certain way, doesn't keep it from happening. To ignore the facts, is not to change the facts. I explained that my ex, whom the ship has sailed was attempting to hook up with someone else, right in front of me. I can't give more details than that without singling the person out, which is not my intention. For once, it's not about him. I explained to Dean that had this person called me on the phone, and we were talking it would have been fine. I wouldn't have had near the amount of discomfort if he told me he met someone new, blah, blah blah. I'd be happy for him. But to be crude in front of me was plain out disrespectful. I thought the lesson to be learned from that particular instance was that he's really unconscious of how other people feel around him, and the appropriate time and place for such conversations/activities. I felt that I couldn't possibly be friends with someone who doesn't respect me, but that's yet to be completely decided.

The pang of jealousy running through me made me want to physically harm him! I mean HOW DARE he do more for this girl than me, his former fiancee! But I told myself, the purpose of speaking to him wasn't to compare notes, it was to be there for a friend. And I was a better person. So when I got off the phone with him, I realized, hey! what I always say is true. People don't just walk away from me, they walk away better. And instantaneously I felt better about being friends with him.

As for my other former flame, it took until tonight when I was driving home from class for it to hit me. Sugarland has released a new single called "Stay" that has great vocals. So I began to sing along, trying to learn the words, and stretch my vocals. (I love getting new material). As the words crossed her lips, and mine simultaneously, the lyrics "It's too much pain to have to bare/To love a man you have to share" and I instaneously knew what she meant. I may have had him physically, but she had his heart. The words "I've given you my best/Why does she get the best of you" fully emphasized what I was feeling. I feel like I endured the hell and didn't get to reap the rewards, but as he once said to me about another situation, "It's not about you now".

I guess the ultimate lesson is a hard one to learn. Yes, they come in to my life, and the leave better. I don't intentionally try to change them (and when I've set out to do so in the past, I've failed miserably), but it always seems to happen that way. And I'm grateful for my ability to give back. But they also give me so much. So as Thanksgiving nears, I want to recount everything they've given me. To appreciate how far I really have come, and how much further I have to go. Look for it soon, I'll be in touch!

A Ration Of Shit...

I recently became aware that a double-standard exists. When I was spending all my time with "J" and running into, and around the city almost constantly, my mother was constantly on egg shells. The woman would call me at 11-12 o'clock at night, freaking out that I might be the person she saw on television, that was shot, in a car accident, a body found in the woods, or burned to death. While I appreciate her concern, it was a bit dramatic.

But when my brother goes to Temple (a known bad area of Philly), for a PARTY, where stupid kids are likely to drink too much, do drugs, engage in unsafe sex, not to mention get SHOT, that's okay.

When I'm putting up with incessant bullshit from former flames, he's a no good P.O.S., and I need to leave. I need to get rid of the drama. Blah, Blah, Blah. But when I tell him HEY! You have drama! He tells me that "What one calls drama, another calls everyday life."

Listen, I appreciate the concern. I'm glad that everyone is looking out for me. And keep that up, I need it. But take your own advice sometimes, okay? Especially if you're going to give me a ration of shit.

'Round Every Bend I Only See Just How Far I Haven't Come

I used to be Christian from Nip/Tuck. I'd sleep around, although unlike Christian I didn't intentionally do it. I worked by a man's standards when it came to sex. Was I single? The single most important question. I don't cheat. But if I'm single, fair is fair. Do I want to? It's usually a quick answer if I'm doing the rundown. Is it available? Always. So imagine my surprise when I've found out that I'm losing a part of myself in not being able to be that person anymore. I use it as a front, because that's who I am, as I fight the pain and the war raging inside of me, that I don't want anyone else to know about.

Recently a series of exes have popped up. Like out of nowhere. And some of them, eh it's nothing anymore, but others it's like ripping myself open just to peer down and see how much I've healed. I'm not sad, it's just painful.

Take for example when "N" popped up two weeks after his disappearance, accusing me of disappearing. Supposedly a "miscommunication", he had failed to even try to contact me in two weeks! And he had justified it with why I wouldn't have contacted him, and why he didn't contact me.

Then (and possibly before "N") "J" was popping up. First there was the "I've changed" spiel. Then of course I needed to contact him a few times via e-mail (gym membership reasons, life-threatening reasons etc.) Now we talk idly from time to time (our last conversation centered around the weather), but his presence doesn't really affect me anymore.

Now Dean is back. He sent me a Myspace message saying he was trying to call me, but I had changed my number. From the tone of the message it didn't sound like he felt I was going to reply. I did though. I sent my new number knowing there wasn't much that he could say that would rattle me. He wants to be friends. He wants to talk. And then he told me he was still crazy about me. That rattled me.

Ozz has been welcome back. And I'm so glad that he is. He's one person I can go to for advice about anything, and he always has great stories. Not to mention excellent taste in clothes. He's getting his somewhere else, totally falling for what seems to be a good girl this time, and I couldn't be happier for him. Maybe because we never were defined by a relationship, it doesn't bother me.

Josh has always been part of my life, and he's now engaged to someone else. He's happy mostly, (we'll discuss the double standard at another time), and I couldn't be happier for him either.

Then there's KB. If I'm away from him, I'm fine. He's a great guy. He has a lot to offer, but I regret there are certain aspects that would keep anything real from developing between us. And they exist on both ends. (Example he doesn't want kids, I do). If I don't see him it's like the pain doesn't exist, even though I know he does. I think if we were having a phone conversation, and he was telling me about a new woman, it wouldn't bring up the regurgitation that is an ex-boyfriend that physically seeing him being able to move on when I can't (and it's not just him that it's because of). I admire him for being able to do what I can't, I value his friendship and think he's an awesome person. But right now it's like ripping my already hanging-by-a thread interior out of me sans anesthesia.

So by this list, I'm doing well. I'm down to two exes that still can get a rise out of me.

The funny thing is I have a series of men in my life. I'm like a magnet, people are naturally drawn to me. I'm constantly meeting new people, but as long as I'm partially stuck in the past, I'll never have my whole heart to give. And if my heart isn't in it, how can I expect my head to be?

Jumping through hoops

Last night, despite my ass looking the best it ever has, a few realizations came to my attention:

A) I blogged about my first working offense, which I had forgotten I'd done. Really, I write it down, dump it here, and forget about it. It leaves my conscience feeling light and carefree.

B) I saw an ex that I swore I wasn't going to see for a while until I was over it, and you're looking at a potential rant in my next blog.

I wish I could say my list of misdemeanors ended with the accusations of child abuse, but it didn't. Hey, I'm human, and working in an industry in which I've never had the opportunity. I do feel compelled to tell you that I was forced against my will to communicate with the child abuse accusing mother the next day that her child was there, via the phone mind you. And it went relatively well. All positive things to say to her. Then I had the opportunity to communicate with her and her husband again on Friday, apparently the child wasn't feeling well that day, and was going to be a bit more cranky than usual. That turned out to be true, but the child wasn't unbearable, so I didn't send her home.

I think it was Wednesday that I made my 2nd very big error. I had to work with the idiot new teacher, and we split into small groups. Two of the children in my group are siblings, twins to be exact, and they had been having some important issues during the day that I needed to address with the parents. I told the dumb as a rock teacher to switch with me, to come outside and manage my kids while I went in and spoke to the parents. She complied.

Much to my dismay though, the daily sheet the parents receive were outside on my clipboard. I explained to the parents that I needed to run out quickly and grab the sheets. That would've been fine had three children not been left in the room without someone who works at the center. Granted, it was a second before the dumb as a rock teacher was back inside, and I was getting verbally reprimanded by another teacher. I went and immediately confessed to my supervisor, and thankfully wasn't fired on the spot. I did have to put it into writing, and there I asked for more help, more guidance. I explained that I love these kids, I'd never do anything to endanger them, and I apologized profusely for my mistake. I think it was my honesty that saved me.

I wish the drama ended there, but then again this is my life. Determined to turn over a new leaf and avoid potentially endangering-a-child mistakes, on Friday I again had to work with the dumb as a rock teacher. I was taking my group outside after snack time, doing roll call at the back door when another teacher walked into my room. She was asking for some icing for the cupcake she was holding, which was fine. The problem was that she left the door open. One of the children's parents was in the room next door (we combine when teachers leave for the day), and I heard the child go "Momma!" I ran and quickly grabbed her before she ran out the door, and haded her off to her mother. When I turned around I frantically asked the remaining two teachers where the children were.

"What children?"

"J and J" (Names not used for those under 18)

"Well J is right there...oh where's J?"

We found him in the lobby, he had apparently run out of the room before I had commandeered the other child. Granted, it wasn't entirely my fault, and I wasn't the only one reprimanded. But it still added to an otherwise jumping-through-hoops kind of day.

Sex Jeans...

Today I found myself in the mood to shop... a rareity I assure you. As I wandered around the isles of Marshall's discontent at what i was seeing, I suddenly found my backbone and walked out. I shouldn't have to settle for anything that doesn't make me feel absolutely FABULOUS.

Knowing that Kohls was a few (hundred?) feet away, I made my way down there to peruse their racks and see what I could find. and what I found was.....I'm a terrible shopper. I had no idea what to look for, and I know I always have a resource who is fun, loves to shop, provides excellent conversation, and isn't gay: my friend Ozz.

Now I call Ozz my personal shopper, even though I'm usually with him when he shops. He knows what not to dress me in (stripes etc.), and what colors will make me look really, really good. He dressed me once before, and I looked so cute it was ridiculous!

I called him to find him awake but still in bed, fighting off an illness he himself couldn't get rid of, and couldn't give away. It's really quite depressing when you can't share the wealth with other people...

A short time later he was at the store gathering different pairs of jeans for me to try on. Jeans he referred to as "sex jeans". When I raised my eyebrows he said "When you see a girl wearing these jeans you know they want sex, I don't know what it is."

Given my libido, I'm thinking a few pairs a day would be needed to fully communicate the message.....

In the end I walked away with 3 pairs of sex jeans, and two tops. One very form fitting black turtleneck, and a combination shirt in a teal color. I tried out the low rise sex jeans last night, with the teeny-tiny turtleneck and it did well...if his continuing to walk behind me was any indication ;)

No one else likes her either...

There's a new teacher at work, and she's driving me crazy. Dumb people are seriously my pet peeve, and if this girl was any dumber, she'd be a rock.

When I first met her, on her interview I told my boss I didn't like her. Having her come into the center, didn't improve my opinion any.

For example, the girl thinks that I WANT to be her BFF. I guess my silence in response to almost every idiodic word that comes out of her mouth is just "me playing hard to get".

She tried talking to me about her "old job" yesterday while I'm trying to change the children. Every other word was "It was terrible." Either there's an echo in the room, or you need to stop repeating yourself. And I don't care what you or your fiancee do on a Friday night.

Then, I overheard say to a parent that "we didn't know where the child was" but she was "just kidding" (the child was clearly in that room), and that since she was the only teacher in her room to date, that she can "do whatever she wants, like throw parties" and again she was "just kidding." The partying comment wouldn't have bothered me too bad if she hadn't said it in front of a parent. They pay good money to put their children in able hands! Act like a professional!

Furthermore, you CANNOT walk into someone else's room and criticize what you think a one-year old should do. No, my kids don't help clean up by themselves, but they're 1, and we're working on it.

Seoncondly, withholding milk from a child because she doesn't say "please" is not okay. Ever.

Staff meetings are for listening. Not making noises like you're 5, or asking questions that pertain to only you and your room. Everything is on a need to know basis. You'll know when you need to.

Thanks for listening to my rant, but no one else likes her either.

Now I'm Cashing In On That Miracle...

On Monday morning, after a near break down of hysterics on Friday night, I marched into work determined to face any apprehensions of talking to my boss, and I asked to speak to her.

Once we were safely within the confines of her office, a sun glare so bright in my face, I'm sure I looked as if I had just eaten a lemon, I explained the whole truth to the situation on Friday.

She told me that no one blamed me for the child falling, and getting hurt. And apparently at this staff meeting, and/or before she's going to remind everyone, to include my Lead Teacher, to call a parent when they see a mark- be it a scrape, scratch etc.

She also told me they were going to speak to the child's mother, and to explain to her what normal toddler behavior is, and see if she wants her child to transition or withdrawl.

My boss explained that either way my company was going to stand behind it's employees that we were not negligent in any way, despite her accusations.

I felt such a huge relief when that weight was lifted off my shoulders. Now if I could just find the new girl some common sense...we'd be doing well...but then again I guess NOW I AM asking for miracles!

Not Quite What I Had In Mind...

On Saturday night, my "study night" when I was supposed to accomplish much of the work that needed doing, I ended up getting suckered into going to the bar to shoot a round of pool.

Now don't get me wrong, I love bars, but not in the way you might imagine. I like the atmosphere, but maybe being a bartender does that to me. I like meeting new people, and talking to them. Drinkers always have the best stories, and being able to talk to someone, and have them be able to share their secret is always my ultimate goal.

So down to the bar we went. "We" being me and my stepfather, Bruce, whom has this bad habit of pretending he just turned 21. I asked for a diet soda. What came back was white. Now unless Coke is up to something new, Diet Coke isn't white. But I know how bars can be, sometimes the gun runs out, and she didn't know how to change it. The weird thing was it tasted like carbonated water. Soda guns that run out of soda, don't have carbonation. But I let it go.

Bruce encouraged me to drink. So I asked for a Long Island. She told me that she didn't know how to make it. So I told her what was in it. She told me she didn't know what Triple Sec was, and they definitely didn't have Sour Mix. Like even to make whiskey sours. I was pissed! No wonder we're the only ones in the bar on a Saturday night! She told me someone else had come in and ordered a Sex on the Beach, but he couldn't tell her what was in it. "We're a shot, and a beer bar, nothing fancy," she told me. Yeah, and again that's why you made a whole whopping $6 on a Saturday night.

The evening progressively got weirder. I'm not sure why I'm always the target of unwanted attention, but apparently Saturday was the night that everyone decided I was being coy. My stepfather acting weird aside (he tried to put a dollar bill down my shirt as if I was some sort of stripper), and my immediate departure from said location, it turned out to be pretty interesting.

A place called Pump Town...where my friends had visited before caught my attention. Needless to say it's a hole in the wall strip club, and the strippers, seeing a woman were all to physical for my comfort. It's like "HERE, I'll give you a dollar to go away." And they did. Funny how that works. Female, in a strip club, and not a man makes a move. Oh no. But the women do...

So basically I've resolved to avoid my stepfather when drinking (and all other times if possible), and any strip clubs unless accompanied by VERY horny guys who will all too happily potentially put themselves in harms way for me.

The Last Time I Had A Tour...

On Saturday I went and met with Keith of Bally's Total Fitness. Completely fed up with my inability to avoid exercise, and still look good (no pain, no gain, right?) I went in to talk about my account, pay the associated $100 fee, and get added on to the account I'm paying for.

Needless to say talking to someone in person tends to yield a lot more results than talking to someone on the phone. In person, they score commission, and they're all too happy to let you have it 'your way'. Fortunately for me, "my way" didn't screw anyone over, and made everyone involved very happy campers.

That's not the most interesting part. The Bally's faces out to the main road across from the King of Prussia mall. Having visited The Marriot there before, I knew the parking lot well, and parked between The Marriot and some other ritzy hotel. I hiked my lazy ass all the way up the hill, and up the two flights of stairs to the front door, prepared to go in, and meet with the guy I thought was named "Pete".

As I reached the door in all my glory, and thinking that no cardio warm-up would be necessary (I mean heck, it was like scaling Mt. Everest over there), I read the sign on the door that says "DO NOT ENTER. Please use rear entrance."

I'm sure all the people driving on Mall Boulevard were amused, as were the people in the pool. I then hiked my lazy ass all the way back down the steps, down the hill, and around to the back of the building. Another 100 feet or so, I actually reached the entrance to Bally's. Annoyed with myself, I opened the door, and was met face-to-face with a decent looking dark haired man.

"Hey, how are you?" he asked me. I politely replied, and kept going asking myself what kind of weirdo tries to pick up women as they walk in the front door. It turns out the weirdo was "Keith" aka "Pete" whom is also my favorite person right now.

I explained my situation, that I had been working out with a friend, lost my job, and in between jobs I couldn't afford the gas to drive there three times per week so I let my workouts lapse. I didn't tell him if I'm at home, I won't exercise. I need a gym.

Once that was complete they got some buff man, who's name I can't remember...started with a "B" though to give me a tour. For being a typical gym-goer (we should all aspire to do so well for our bodies), he was actually a pretty good tour guide, and interesting to talk to. In a span of 10 minutes, I found out he had a fiancee, a dog, and no children. I'm adding "easy to talk to" to my resume as we speak. The funniest thing was when he called "J" my husband. That's right friends, my HUSBAND. I laughed. Out loud. Bent over, in a fit of hysterics.

"He's not my husband," I managed to squeeze out between laughs.

Clearly uncomfortable he searched for an alternative "Okay you're man......friend."

The tour was over by then and I went on my merry mile long walk back to the car. And Sunday I worked out my first day. Tank tops, and cute dresses. Sssh I'm trying to motivate myself

The Hardest Thing...

On Friday afternoon I was in the midst of cleaning up my room to go home for the day, (On Wednesday, Halloween, my job had sent me home early (45 min early!) when all my children had left to go on their trick-or-treating way. So I was making a lame attempt to make up for some of that lost time.) when my Lead Teacher asked me if one of the children fell abnormally.

One of the infants is old enough to move into our Toddler Room, and we're working on transitioning her. She's not as big as the other children, and she's a year old. Trying to do things that one year old's want to do, such as sitting in chairs, climbing, and walking are all major challenges they face. This particular child loves it in our room, and does her best to keep up with the other children.

Her mother came to pick her up, and noticed two new scrapes on her face. She demanded to know what happened. I honestly couldn't tell her. I hadn't noticed the scrapes, or I would have filled out an accident report.

The mother explained that she had dropped her child off that morning, and another child had come over and hit her. She didn't want to move her child from the infant room to the Toddler Room because she "didn't want her to get too many bumps, and bruises." She continued, "I'm sure she would've cried over this, didn't you see her cry?"

"Yes I heard her cry many a times! And many a times I stopped, picked her up, and comforted her. I didn't see the scrapes."

"Well," said my Lead Toddler Teacher, "I saw them when I was putting her down for her nap." She never said a word to me.

I was so upset last night that I ended up taking a drive, and just really bawling my eyes out. I mean one of my kids had an allergic reaction, and was running around without a second thought, and I was freaking out. But this woman made me feel like less than a person by not being able to watch HER kid, let alone ALL of my kids ALL THE TIME.

She stopped short of accusing me of child abuse, but I'm seriously contemplating going to school FT, getting done, and just working PT. Now comes the hard part, trying to figure out where to transfer to!

10,000 Angels

Last night I was scheduled to attend a wrestling show, my first since the days of "J", with "N". It's my suspicion that tonight was going to be the night he proposed.

He feels cheated, and I'm not sure I trust him. Either he's sadly mistaken about whom "J" is, and is targeting the wrong person, or, he lied about "J" being at that convention.

Ultimately though I feel that fate intervened. Fate did what it knew I was incapable of doing: letting go. Part of me is sad, I want to get married, but I also don't want to compromise. As "N" and I got closer we found our differences pushing us further apart.

I'm hoping there is a greater good that is going to come along, as the end of something always signals the beginning of something new.

So as Mindy McCready once said, "I have 10,000 angels watching over me tonight."

My reply

ARE YOU SERIOUS? I DROPPED OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH?
Cute. No really, a real tear-jerker, and if I had
played any part in YOUR disappearance, then I might be
inclined to feel bad.

What part of I left you a message, seeing how you were
doing blah, blah, blah. No reply. Then I left another
message on a Monday or Tuesday saying if I didn't hear
from you by Friday I was assuming you were gone. I
said that I despise when people won't tell me they're
leaving, and that I'd let you cop out, and send me an
e-mail....I meant by Friday.

So the next time you want to play victim, at least you
know, make it my fault. Because I'm not stupid, there
are people who know that I called you, and got no
response. If this is how you want to go out, then you
deserve 80 years of turmoil. But let me say from
experience that one day you really have to do admit
that the truth is better than lies and relationships
take 2.

As far as "J" goes, it was not, nor is it now your
place to deal with him, see to it that he is dealt
with, or have any contact with him on my behalf. Ever.


Now, I promised that I wouldn't stand in the way of
your leaving, and I have kept that promise. Best of
luck with your future endeavors.

If Michael Myers was a poet...

I officially heard from "N' today. He writes:

Cheryl,
I don't know why you disappeared or why you stopped calling and e-mailing me and I probably never will know. It's probably something stupid I said or did and it'll probably eat away at me until I'm eighty years old, incontinent and in a nursing home. I just felt the need to write and say I feel like a lost soul without you. It's a feeling that will never go away, no matter how long I live.
No, wait, I lied. I'm pretty sure why you stopped talking to me. Sadly, it's something I can never change about myself. I know I shouldn't have gotten so jealous over "J", but that's just me. It hurts me to see somebody I love get disrespected and what he was doing was just that, at least in my eyes. I know my intentions of scaring him out of your life for good pissed you off and, while I do apologize for hurting you, I have to be honest with you. I would say and do those things again and again if I had everything to do over again. You don't deserve the bullshit that man put you through and he needs to go away.
I miss you and I do love you, Cheryl, and while I have no idea if those words have any effect on you now, I couldn't close this e-mail and shut my PC off without saying them. I might've only gotten the chance to spend those brief twenty-four hours with you there, but they were the best twenty-four hours of my life. The image of your beautiful smile will live with me forever.

My reply tomorrow...

"Our Song"

Taylor Swift has a new song out on country radio called "Our Song". Now when I first heard the song, I loved it, as I've loved everything she's written. But it made me think of someone, and a particular instance made it so true...

Back when I was dating "N', the first time we almost broke-up, I started driving with no destination in mind, and kept on driving till I hit NJ. "N" refused to hang up the phone with me even to let me get gas, and when I had finally reached KB's I knew it would be impossible to let KB know I was there (unexpectedly), and not have "N" know I was not at my home as I claimed.

It was a weird time, like 1 a.m. and I was unemployed (or something) at the time that afforded me to be off the next working day. KB's house has a side door that connects to his computer room which is on the side of the house closest to the garage. I definitely didn't want to ring the doorbell and awake the whole house, so finally getting off the phone with "N", under the pretense of "being home, and going right to bed", I cautiously approached the door.

Thankfully he didn't completely freak when he saw me suddenly appear in the window, and call the police or anything. He told me he couldn't open that door, and that I needed to go around to the front door where he'd let me in.

I recounted the whole story to him, in which he informed me this soon-to-be ex was no different than the last one, and I was welcome to stay. He left a note for his parents while I was sleeping, but awaking at 6 a.m. and not wanting to be a burden, I left and drove all the way home on three hours of sleep.

So when the lyrics says "sneaking out late, tapping on your window" it conjures up a very literal memory for KB and myself! (Not to mention the whole "first date, man I didn't kiss him, and I should have")

You'd Swear I'm Asking For A Miracle!

On Sunday I had the unfortunate luck to find out a few things:

A) Either through fault of my own, or my insurance company I had no car insurance

B) I had overdrawn my account, and it would take 3 days for the transfer from savings to checking to become complete

C) I have to survive on the little less than 1/2 tank of gas I have till Wed

D) My family has decided to change up Christmas without consulting all involved.

We'll begin with "D", the least self explanatory. When I was bartending last year a man came in, and sat down at my bar. He explained that his family had gotten to the point where my family had, that they were buying everything they wanted, and Christmas gifts were becoming increasingly scarce. So they contacted the Salvation Army, got a family, and took them a tree.

So I decided to propose the idea to my family this Christmas. We would adopt a needy family, as opposed to buying for each other. I got a lot of mixed reactions, where basically people said they would prefer to have gifts themselves, than to provide for someone in need.

Today I found out they decided to do a Pollyanna, and exchange gifts on Christmas Eve! I told my grandmother that I preferred not to partake in the festivities, that I don't buy for that side of my family, and that my mom, stepfahter, and Tim were all going to do the Salvation Army thing. Turned up noses were the response I got.

Since whe is it so wrong to do some good for someone else? Isn't the holiday season about getting together, and being thankful for what you DO have? I swear everyone in this family has lost their minds! Anyone who wants to include me in their house this year, I'll take it! I don't want presents, I want to be included in happiness the season brings. You'd SWEAR I'm asking for miracles here!

What Makes A Friend?

I forgot to mention in yesterday's blog that we were later joined by one of KB's other friends, Dom.

I don't know Dom that well, only in passing, and our acquaintanceship is a cool one. We're friendly, but it doesn't go beyond that, which is fine for both parties.

Before actually arriving at the party, it was brought to my attention that Dom, now living in DE, had planned a house party the same night as his friend's birthday. Some people, were a bit perturbed by this fact. A bit confused by the situation, I inquired further, "Wait, he has a party to GO TO in DE, on his friend's birthday?"

They explained that Dom had, with his new roommates, planned a house party on this particular day, which was a really shitty thing to do. Some of the tension detected that night was a bit thick, so that had I removed the plastic knife Katie was using to saw herself with, I could've cut it. But he stayed the entire time we did, which I have no complaints about.

Granted, from what I hear he isn't the best friend a guy could have. But we all make mistakes, it's how we learn to prioritize! He may be 25 physically, but mentally he's still in that 'just turned 21' syndrome that plagues so many guys for so long.

All in all, if we consider him to be a friend, shouldn't we be able to accept him for how he is? We may not like everything about him, or agree with all of his choices, but sometimes loyalty goes a long way. And sometimes we need to lead by example. Obviously he wouldn't be considered a "friend" in the first place if he didn't bring something to the table. And if his making an appearance, despite his momentary brain lapse, made KB happy on his birthday, then it was entirely worth it.

No Guarantees

I feel like I didn't do the feelings I felt at KB's birthday party justice. Mostly because KB's birthday wasn't about me, nor would I want it to be. But this blog is about me, and I do owe you, my readers, the god's honest truth.

When I met KB, I knew I liked him. Instantaneously, I thought he was cute, but I also knew where I was in life. I wanted "J" and nothing then was going to keep me from that. Especially not someone I had just met, despite hearing so much about him.

As I got to know him, I gained a lot of respect for him as a person. We bonded over talking about certain inappropriate actions that night (not on my behalf), and things kind of progressed until we were friends. I wish I could say it's always been platonic, and that's the reason things didn't work out between us. I wish I could lie and say that we gave it our best, at the given time, and that now we acknowledge that ship has sailed. Because for a while, it had.

Sometimes you see someone differently though. Sometimes you look at someone and see all they really are. And in talking to people, someone said to me that relationships are really a game of chess. It's maintaining the right amount of distance, not too much, not too little, and accepting the person as they are. I know now, that I didn't accept KB how he was, once we were together, and I deeply regret it. Why? Because he's such an awesome person.

If someone were to ask me if I'd want to date him again the answer is, I don't know. I know I changed in our relationship, probably out of fear of committment, and fear of screwing things up royally. But what do you do if you meet the right person at the wrong time?

I'm an opportunist, and I always have been. Nothing is going to change that. So when I had the chance to jump at happiness, as opposed to just floating through life missing what could've been, I took it. And it blew up in my face. But KB was there to catch me.

Seeing him Saturday night was like ripping open a very old wound. Much like when you perform surgery on someone, or an animal, you don't cut through all the layers of skin to reach the abdomen only to stitch the top back together and "hope for the best". Each layer is stitched.

Driving home, I cried. I mean bawled. I bawled because I miss him. I bawled because I still care. And I bawled because for the first time in my life, I don't know how to act, or what to do to make it right.

Whenever anyone sees the situation from the outside it's easy to offer explanations. But I stand behind my theory that one can only do the best they have at that moment the situation is occurring. It's easy to think of 100 different outcomes that in the heat of the moment you didn't even consider. It doesn't quite seem fair.

But perhaps the worst part of seeing him wasn't ripping open the old wound and seeing it slowly being stitched after all this time, but it was seeing that look in his eyes. Whether he wants to admit it or not, and whether I want to admit it, whether it was the alcohol, the celebration or whatever, there was something there.

But it takes many years for a piece of sand to become a pearl, or coal to become a diamond. So I guess time is the key. The one thing that no one can guarantee.

I guess I should've been more specific when I told God I was ready to meet the right person...

A Real Fine Place To Start

Last night was KB's birthday party at Chickie's and Pete's in Egg Harbor, NJ. Enroute to pick up Josh and Katie, while tackling Lincoln Drive, Josh called to inform me that KB was riding with another friend, and he was going to be later than expected. We had two options: to either hang out at their house, and leave later, or to hang out at KB's and all leave together. We decided to decide once I reached their location.

Once I got there, we decided to hang out at KB's, but Josh's primping routine took a good deal of time, and it was well after 6, our designated "leave time", once we actually got on the road.

The ride down was relatively quiet, lots of listening to music, idle conversation, and me attempting to sing despite my lack of voice. Really exciting, when you forget you can't sing, and nothing's coming out.

We were about 5 minutes out from KB's house when we got a phone call saying that Dan had arrived earlier than anticipated, and we should all meet up at the restaurant, as originally planned.

A solid 40 minutes later, we arrived at the restaurant, and Josh, having just hit his elbow on the car door was already in a pissy mood. I explained to the hostess that we were looking for someone that was already there.

"A birthday party," she asked?

"Yes"

She directed me to the left, and I made it half way down the ramp when I realized that I didn't recognize anyone at the table. Of course, Josh gave me a hard time that he had known where everyone was sitting, and he "didn't know why I was heading that way."

Things got mildly more interesting once we actually found our appropriate table. A combination of Joe, Dan, his girlfriend Emily, KB, Josh, Katie and myself composed the table. We all ordered drinks, my first a Blueberry Martini that was PINK! It was terrible! Having force-fed it to myself I was flying pretty high, but the drinks kept a flowing, and so did the conversation...

Suffice to say that with three drinks, one shot, only added to my honesty. I'm sure many a people were sick that night, and it had little to do with the alcohol.

I'm generally the type of person who can drink, get their "high", and come back down completely sober, and last night was no exception. Although the 'coming down' part is the least fun. It's when the hangover sets in, and you realize how much of an ass you made of yourself that night. And at some point, I ended up looking pale, although for reasons that evade me.

The drive home was a quiet one as well, with plenty of time for reflection. I had a great time, but at the same time I had ripped open old wounds that I thought I had avoided, and realized hey! there's some stitches in there! Now if I can just avoid ripping them out, I may end up in a good place yet. The end of something always presents the start of something new...

Not to be forgotten...Happy Birthday to one of the greatest guys I know!

Not A Believer....

Yesterday at work I was attempting to move a table in my no-voiced state, that only has wheels on one side. Unfortunately for me, I tripped, fell AND twisted my ankle, although not nearly as painfully as the last incident, and oppposite side.

I attribute the nice bruises I have on my left leg to KB and his supposed miracle working abilities.

Nope...not a believer as of yet! ;)

I have a plan...

I'm officially a bad friend, and my lack a of a voice is me being convinced that God is punishing me for it.

My one friend asked me to pick him up to attend a particular event we were both invited to. Granted, I had told him that financially I was not stable enough to partake in such festivities, but he assured me that if I would help him out with a ride, he would pay for gas and food. Which was all good and dandy until...recently he informed me his fiancee would be going along.

Now, they've been together quite a while, and it's not like I haven't endured her company before. But for some reason my last encounter with her really rubbed me the wrong way and the idea of being in the same car as her really just didn't sit well with me. Not to mention that he sprung it on me that it would be all 3 of us heading to the location as opposed to two. (Which is not an issue of feelings for him, trust me).

Somewhat unfortunately, and fortunately for me, I had to tell someone, and I ended up telling KB. At which point he bribed me to do him this one favor. I'm such a sucker for cute gimpy ex-boyfriends. Damn the powers that be!

oh well, I'll be thankful is I can manage to squeak out a Happy Birthday tomorrow. If not, I have a plan.

Eye Contact...

The last time I was in Biology class, a week ago, I managed to make a HUGE ass out of myself. We took a test on Photosynthesis, and Cellular Respiration in my Bio class. I knew I hadn't logged the necessary hours to get a decent grade on the test (we got them back tonight, and I got a solid B btw), so I was nervous as could be.

Add to the fact that I had to label diagrams! I don't look at the diagrams because they don't help me...so I only managed to score a 5/10 on the two diagrams. Boo to that.

Anyways, I was the first person done, but the 2nd person to hand in my test. (I'm so superstitious about handing my test in first). I picked up my purse to head to the bathroom, and having skipped class the Tuesday before mid-class, I figured the teacher was going to give me hell, especially with my less than stellar grade. So I said aloud "Relax, I'm just going to the bathroom, I'll be right back."

What I failed to mention is that on the board he wrote that most of us had done well on the lab write-up, and to begin reading Chapter 8. He was blocking my view of "Have a Good Weekend", and knowing this professor, he usually keeps us after a test to begin the next chapter. I got back, sat down, and began outlining Chapter 8 as I would at home when I see half the classroom leaving with their stuff packed up. It was then I saw the "Have a good weekend".

Completely embarassed, I packed up my things as quickly as possible, and bolted to the door, but no avail, I caught the professor's attention.

I apologized saying "Apparently I can't read tonight" and made my exit. The problem was I couldn't find my keys!

So I had to embarass myself further by re-entering the class to find out....I had stuck my keys in my bookbag as opposed to my purse...

I haven't made eye contact since...

Red High Heels

Today has officially yielded two whole days since I've heard from "N". Granted, I'm not one to be usually panicky, in fact I'm probably the easiest person to leave-I won't know what hit me for a few days!

I know he was extremely ill, and highly contagious (is it against girlfriend rules to avoid your sick significant other?), and was heading to a friend's home that actually contained HEAT. You know, a general necessity when you're sick. Thankfully he doesn't need his hair held back as he prays to the porcelin god. (Kudos to anyone who got the image from White Chicks in their head).

However, he did manage to sneak a phone call into me on Monday which initially made me question the whole "I'm going to the woods, and I don't get my messages until I'm back in reception" thing, but I threw those thoughts to the back of my mind. No use worrying about that which I cannot control.

However this situation pans out extremely similar to a situation I endured not all THAT long ago.

I dated this guy, Dean, for X amount of time. (Consequently he was the guy whom I went to MA and found another woman all over it, I just cared about protecting his privacy then). We got engaged, and all of a sudden BOOP! He drops of the face of the earth despite a series of pissed off messages from me.

Months go by, I don't give it too much of a thought when BOOP! there's Dean with a text message offering explanations. He told me that he ran into his ex-wife, she said some very cruel things (he explained, I won't) to him, and he really took it to heart. Okay, I'm a sap, I'm willing to do anything, and I really care about this guy, so I'll make it work, right? WRONG. I told him no wonder his friends hate me, I show up for 6 months then fall off the face of the earth. I'd ask him to move here, he'd say "I like my town". I'd offer to move there, I GOT A JOB OFFER, and he told me he wasn't ready for me to move in.

Even the "good" guys two-time ya it seems. So the jury is still out as to whether "N" has pulled a Dean on me or not, but by my standards, the clock is ticking and he has till Friday or out come the red high heels!

Mixing it up...

Recently I had the unfortunate pleasure to have a conversation with one of my ex's. Yeah we'll call him an ex.

He told me that he changed. And I'll be honest with you, my initial reaction was to say "Yeah right!" But I've been in a similar position a few years ago...

I was 15, new to the internet, and my mom had suggested I lie about my age, to keep weirdos away. I'm not sure how well it worked given that one guy wanted to meet me in a local park....but I did nonetheless and I met a great guy named Jason.

We dated for a year and 1/2 and he never knew anything different until one day, per the advice of my friends, I felt compelled to tell him. Needless to say "the woman before me" had done some major damage and to this day he'll speak to me through gritted teeth. I wish I could say my major change was that I quit lying, unfortunately that's not true, I still lie sometimes, but for the most part, as my friends now will tell you, I'm brutually honest. But I HAD changed in other ways, I had matured socially, and come a long ways emotionally. But no amount of excuses, or apologies brought him back.

So when my "ex" said he'd changed, for a moment I flashed back to that conversation where I tried to explain I too was different, and whether we were just too different, or he just couldn't forgive me, my life was forever changed. And I decided if I could change then anyone could. He sent me a link of his new terms of living, and I said the only thing I could, "Excellent".

He described our relationship as a "crazy" one, and asked where that left us. I explained that despite my love for him, which would always remain intact in some form or another, that threats he made to me crossed a line which could not be reversed.

Apparently his new schooling hadn't prepared him for that reaction. He told me that I betrayed him, (I unprofessionally backed out of a bad business deal), and I DESERVED every threat he made.

Well, I guess that put ME in MY place then didn't it? Just when you get comfortable with something, along comes fate to mix it the hell up.