Sunday, May 29, 2011

Army Wife, Army Life

When I met my Husband, he had 8 years in the National Guard already. Shortly after we met, he joined the Army Reserves. 458th En Bn out of Brookville, Pa. We got married and had a child and shortly after that the unit needed a VP for the Family Readiness Group which helps family members of soldiers who are deployed or in a crisis. I agreed although I had no idea what I was doing. I slowly learned the ropes and what the Army was all about. I went on weekend tutorials on how to prepare soldiers and families for deployment, counselling, consoling.. Then deployment came. I handled it with grace, strength, and pride. He moved to Wisconsin a week after we purchased a new home. He did 6 months there preparing to go. He left on our anniversary. February 20th. Shortly after that, the mother of his other child filed for custody. He had 50/50, week on, week off custody. She tried to take her for good. I knew if she did, he would never get her back. So I filed for custody of a child that wasn't mine. I filed for custody and contempt of court for not following the current court order. I showed up at court to fight with my lawyer. The child wasn't even allowed to speak to me. I showed up alone. She showed up with about 14 members of her family. The judge made the lawyers work out a compromise. She wanted nothing to do with it. We went back to court. Same thing. We went back a third time. The judge said if we came back again, one of us would be very unhappy. He wouldn't even hint as to which one of us it would be. That night she called me. She said I could have the child every other Thursday for a 4 day weekend. I took it. From that point on, I worked as hard as I could keeping those kids happy. I did whatever it took to keep them from missing their father. We went on trips, we went shopping, we did anything they wanted. I also worked as hard as I could keeping our soldiers happy. One day, my husband sent me an email with a list of names. He said that he had more than enough packages and the list was a list of names of the guys who got little to nothing from anyone. The name at the top of the list was a kid named Rich. Rich was 19 years old and from Erie, Pa. He had received nothing at all from home. No letters. No packages. No email. Nothing. This tore me up inside. They had already been in Iraq for 3 months. 3 months is a fucking lifetime in that place when you have no one thinking of you or writing to you. I started writing letters and sending packages. I sent that kid everything and anything I could get in a box. I had no idea what to say in the letters, but I wrote until my hand cramped. I wrote pages and pages. He wrote back and told me his parents disagreed with his decision to join the Army and refused to even admit where he was. They just refused to talk about it at all. I happily took care of that kid for the rest of the deployment. When the year was up, they flew home on the same day. February 20th. They flew back to Wisconsin and had to stay there for 2 weeks before coming back to Brookville. The day finally came. People lined the streets waiting for the buses to come through town. I was waiting to see my husband. I was waiting to meet my new friend who had become so important to me through the year. My husband was the first off the bus. I hugged him and welcomed him home. Then I waited. I stood there beside that bus and watched every face that came off. I waited and waited. The final soldier stepped off of that bus. It wasn't him. My eyes scanned the sea of faces around me. I started asking the soldiers where he was. No one would answer me. Finally someone sat me down and told me that he wasn't coming home. No one knew how to tell me because they were all aware of the very special bond we had. He stayed for another year with a different unit. He said for them to tell me there was nothing for him to come home to. So he wasn't. I was crushed. I bawled and bawled. It was such a sick feeling to me that this now 20 year old kid had nothing except the Army. Nothing! I had no way to contact him at that point. His location changed. He was unreachable. He did finally come home another year later. We met up after that at an Army function where he brought a lovely young woman with him. He met her shortly after returning and married her. Love at first sight. They had a child immediately after. He joined the Army full time and is now stationed in Afghanistan. His wife and child live in Germany where they wait for him to return very soon. I tell this story to remind everyone who reads it that there are so many of our soldiers out there fighting for us and losing their lives for us. Please remember them. Those soldiers also have families who need help and support as well. A soldier can't do his job to the best of his ability if he is worried about the state of his family. Take the time to ask them if they need anything. There are other young men out there just like Rich who have nothing and no one to talk to them and tell them how important they are. Find them. Do your part. You'll make a friend for life who will never forget what you've done for them and the feeling is beyond any other in this world.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Marital Disaster

February 20th 1998. That's my wedding anniversary date. It's a shame that this year was the last one we'll share. I finally have the courage to walk. He's not a bad person. He's very well liked and well thought of by everyone that knows him. They don't live with him though. I've never done anything since we've been married without wondering if I'll be judged poorly for it by him. My house was never clean enough. My clothes too tight. My makeup too dark. My hair too blonde, too brown, too short.. My tattoos too big. My piercings made me a "freak". I didn't mop the floor correctly. I didn't iron the shirts properly. I drive too fast. My music is too loud. My voice is too loud. My laugh is irritating. My teeth are too yellow. I don't work out enough. I spend too much time on the computer. I spend too much time on the phone. I watch too much TV.
I've never complained. I've tried to be a good wife. One person can only take so much. There was actually a point in our marriage when he decided that his clothes in the closet needed to be color coordinated and hung according to article..of course only after being completely washed, dried, and ironed to specification. I had to be "taught" to mow the grass properly. I wasn't allowed to go over a certain speed on the lawn tractor. I was told years ago that I was not allowed to be jealous of other women. I was warned before arriving at a place where his friends or fellow employees would be, not to "talk their ears off because nobody cares about the stuff you have to talk about". I suffered the consequences if he had a bad day. I would go four or five days without being spoken to and I had no idea as to why. I would ask, believe me.. He would roll his eyes and walk away. He would watch me lie on the bed and cry for days and still say nothing.. Then one day, everything would be normal. We tried counselling. He felt the therapist was blaming him for everything, so we couldn't go anymore.
I can't say I'm completely without fault.. I would spend money to make myself feel better. It was all I had. Then I was in trouble for that. So he got a separate bank account. One that I still have no access to. I've not seen an income tax return in years. I have no idea how much money my husband makes. If I need money and ask for it, I have to pay it back when I get my check.
There comes a time when you decide that even if you have to live on the street, enough is enough. I had that day 5 days ago. I've never been so fucking free. I actually enjoy living in the same house with him and not speaking to Him. I love the fact that he has to sleep on the couch. I love that he refuses to eat anything I cook. I love that I don't have to tell him where I'm going. I love knowing that He knows he's lost the best fucking thing that ever happened to him. You know what I love the most though? Me. I love myself. Finally.

Monday, May 2, 2011

My Birthday Boy

In honor of my sons birthday tomorrow, I thought I'd take the time to tell about this wonderful young man I managed not to fuck up yet.. I never wanted kids, to be completely honest. I was never a good babysitter and really just had no interest in kids. Then I ended up pregnant, by accident of course.. He was born May 3rd, 1998, and weighed in at a whopping 9# 7oz. The poor thing had a major cone head from the birth.. crazy big!! Thankfully I knew enough to rub that head every day to form it into a nice round dome. His father was bald already, so I knew this would be important later in life! Since that day, I've said, "I love my own child. I can't stand anyone else's." That statement still holds true to some extent. He was such a joy to raise. He was a really good baby, although he ate constantly, and his toddler years were just as perfect. Once he hit school age all my own opinions were confirmed. He constantly got complimented on his behavior and manners. His 2nd grade teacher even wrote on his report card that he was "unusually mature" for his age. I never wanted a kid, like I said, so I never spoke to him as one. I always used adult words, never used baby talk, gave him responsibility at a young age. I also told him I would always answer any question he had honestly. All he had to do was ask. You'd be amazed at the questions I've answered! Most recently was "Hey Mom? What exactly IS a douche bag?" Ha! When he was in 4th grade, he started playing ice hockey. This soon became his passion in life. In his 6th grade year his hockey team won their division championship. This year, he played ice hockey 7 days a week for 3 teams. Some days we spent 5 hours at the rink after school! He had the game winning goal for his travel team this year which won him his second travel championship in 2 years. He also had the game winning assist for the high school Freshman team for their very first championship. Did I mention he's an honor roll student too? I am so proud of everything he's accomplished already. He has a level head and has decided that it will be hockey over girls. He believes there is time for that later in life, and I couldn't agree more. He has been working toward an academic and athletic scholarship already for years. That is what he wants more than anything, so all the girls and parties will have to wait until he's ready.. Of course this could all change, but I know he'll do the right thing in the end and continue to make this Momma proud! I adore and love him more than life itself. Happy 13th Birthday to my Baby Boy!!

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Drunken Daddy Dearest

My Father has been a drinker since I can remember. I remember being about 4 and going to the scene of an accident. My Mom had just bought a brand new white Sunbird. Back in the day, that was quite a car. He smashed it to pieces within 3 weeks. I'll never forget her trying to get her important papers out of it and telling me not to get too close because of the broken glass. They divorced shortly after that. I loved him then. I couldn't wait to see him. I would sit on the porch and wait. Sometimes he would come get me and take me to the bar. I spent all of my childhood sitting in the Moose Club, the VFW, and various others. I would get a pop, a bag of chips, and a roll of quarters to play pinball. We would spend the entire day there. If there was a band playing that night, he would make me get on the stage and sing Wild Irish Rose. I still remember what coke from a bar glass smells like. It's very distinct. There's an aroma of beer mixed with it that is unmistakable. One night after leaving the bar, we were on our way home. I was asleep in the back of his red Jeep. I woke up to him grabbing the fire extinguisher out of the back. I sat up and saw that someones car was on fire. He tried to help. The police came and of course he got belligerant and got arrested. Well, he told them he needed to drive me to his sisters house. They said no. Well, after punching a black cop and calling him a nigger, they allowed him to drive me up the hill to my Aunts house. ?? Can you believe that? Well, after we got to my Aunt's house he went to jail to sober up. That's it. No charges. He was always the luckiest fucker! I spent years sitting on the front porches of the various places we lived in waiting for him to come. It got to where he wouldn't come at all. I would sit on the porch until 10 o'clock sometimes, waiting. My Mom would have to drag me into the house bawling and screaming that he would come to get me, he's just late.. Once I got older, I started to see his issues more clearly. My Mom was awesome in that respect. She always allowed me to see him for what he was on my own. I never heard a bad word about him from her. When I was 21 I bought my first vehicle. A royal blue Chevy S10 Pickup.. right off the showroom floor. I was so excited. A few days after I bought it, I drove it to his house to show him. I knew as soon as I got there that something was different. It was only around 12, so I didn't figure he could be that wasted already, but apparently he was drinking whiskey that day. He asked if he could take my truck for a spin. I said No. He asked why. I said because you're drunk. He asked if I smoke in it. I said No. He said, Well, don't ever leave the windows down or the doors unlocked, because I'll throw a cigarette in it and burn it to the fucking ground. That was the last time I ever made an effort to be his daughter. I realized that day that the man had never done anything for me. He never paid child support. He never remembered Christmas or my birthday. The one time he did, I got a card that said Happy Birthday to a special Grand Daughter. Grand Daughter? When I was in the hospital my Mom asked him to buy me a robe. He brought me one of my dead Grandmothers robes to wear. He stayed for about 5 minutes then left. His luck did finally run out a few years ago and he got arrested for DUI. First offense, lucky bastard. He's wrecked 9 vehicles, at last count, due to drinking. His family protects him to this day and blames me for not having a relationship with him. Everclear sang it best.. "Father of mine, tell me how do you sleep? When you look back at your wasted life, and you don't see me? My Daddy gave me a name, then he walked away.. " Your loss Fucker.

Monday, April 18, 2011

The Sex Instructor

I was somewhat of a late bloomer. We moved a lot. I went to 13 schools by the time I was in 7th grade. Maybe that's why, maybe I just wasn't ready.. My body developed way before it's time, but my mind didn't. Then seemingly over night, it did. We changed schools one last time in the middle of 7th grade. Now I wish we had moved once more. I said before, that when I got to this school, I was completely developed, the girls hated me and the boys loved me. Well, I liked the boys too. The older, the better. I met a guy named Rob who lived not too far from me and was a senior. Rob was 18. I was 12. Rob and his friends and some of my friends would all hang out up the street from our crappy apartment and ride skateboards, talk, smoke.. the usual teenage thing. Rob decided that he liked me and made no secret of it to anyone including me. One night Rob and I are hanging out off to the side and he asks me if I've ever been kissed. Well, I said I had although I wasn't really experienced at it. I mean, I was 12 for cryin out loud! He tells me he wants to kiss me. I was over the moon. I was in love from that instant on. After a lot of kissing he tells me he wants to be my sex instructor. He tells me I need to learn to do it the right way to make him happy. I was in no condition to argue. I was completely head over heels for this guy who was so much older than me. I had visions of being the popular girl at school, we'd walk down the halls holding hands, we'd eat lunch together, he'd walk me home... So, the instruction began.. Over the next few weeks he taught me to kiss, he taught me how to give a hand job, he taught me how to give a blow job.. I was so uncomfortable. I liked him so much. I was going to do everything in my power to get to the part where we would announce to the school that we were in a relationship.. Then one day he called me. I'll never forget that day. It was drizzling outside. Dreary. He called me and wanted me to meet him in the woods near his house. I said that I would. Before he hung up the phone he said "I Love You" and my heart practically jumped out of my chest. I was fucking elated. I was stunned. I didn't know what to say. He hung up before I had the chance to respond. I rushed out the door to go meet him. I got to the woods and I heard him say my name. I went to him and he laid his trench coat down on the ground. I laid on it. I had no idea what was about to happen to me. He laid beside me and started to kiss me. Then his hand went down my pants. I tried to stop him and he wouldn't. I pushed him back and looked in his eyes. I said "I Love You Too". His reply was, oh, that.. force of habit. I'm just used to saying that to my girlfriend before we hang up the phone. I was in complete shock. I started to get up and he said where are you going? You didn't pass your test yet. He pushed me down and forced my pants down.. I struggled with him I said "NO" what seemed like a hundred times. There was no one to hear me, no one to help. I passed my test that night. The next day when I went to school, everyone knew. He told everyone. Soon word had gotten around that he fucked me on a trench coat. I spent the rest of the school year and the following summer being called "Trench". I was so fucking humiliated. I went to my friends house a few days after that incident. I left my purse at home. My Mom looked into my purse to get my friends phone number and found a note to Rob asking how he could do that to me in horrid detail. When I got home that night my Mom confronted me. I lied. I said that it wasn't the Rob she thought it was and that I said yes. I said it was a kid in my grade. I've still never told her, but I think she always knew it was him. When I was 19 and almost died in the hospital (see It's A Shitty Life) I had a young nurse. She was so sweet and so pretty. I caught sight of her name badge and saw her last name. I asked her if she was married. She said she was. I asked to whom, and she said Rob's name. I made up my mind then and there that I would never protect him again. I told her to pull up a seat because I had something to tell her and she was going to sit and listen to me. I told her to read my medical file and see what had happened to me. I made her do this to see what I had just gone through so that she would understand that I have no reason to lie. It worked. She sat and listened to all I had to endure because of her husband. She filed divorce papers before I was even released from the hospital. He took something from me. I took something from him. We'll never be even..but I'm happier knowing that I got to him. I saw him on FB recently. I hear he has a girlfriend.... I can't wait to meet her :)

Saturday, April 16, 2011

It's a Shitty Life

When I was little, probably about 8 or 9, I started developing issues with my bowels. I've lived almost every day of my life in physical pain since then. It would hurt, so I wouldn't go, and I was embarrassed about it so I wouldn't tell anyone. This led to bigger problems, having accidents on an almost daily basis, being made fun of by my friends.. it was awful. My mother finally noticed a problem and of course thought I was doing it on purpose. This led to her making me drink laxatives and literally holding me down on the bathroom floor and giving me enemas on the regular. Well, that fixed me for the time being because I would much rather have had pain than have to endure the awful embarrassment of an enema. This was when I built up a tolerance for pain. I learned then that pain was an emotion and could be controlled. That's what I did..until I was 12. When I was 12, I started having deeper issues. I was in a new school, I was built like a 25 year old with a 36DD chest and the curvy body to match. The girls hated me. The boys loved me. Not having a father in my life since I was 4, I naturally enjoyed this very much, but it took a toll on me mentally. The stress induced horrible pain that even I couldn't control. I ended up in the hospital where they said I had a stomach ulcer. I had to start taking about 4 pills a day, all expensive of course, which caused me more worry because we didn't have a lot of money. The medicine helped, but the stomach, stress, and other symptomatic issues stayed with me throughout high school. I started working at a KFC when I was 16. Once I hit my shin on an oil filter machine. My shins, yes, both, not just the one I hit, swelled up so big the skin started to crack open. I couldn't walk for over 2 weeks. I couldn't wear pants over them without wearing loosely wrapped ace bandages around them. I went to a doctor and she said it was "something young girls get." Nice, huh? So I went to an emergency room. They said it might be Lupus. All tests came back negative. Another time when I was 17, I woke up one morning with canker sores in my mouth. Thousands of them. Not just in my mouth. From my lips clear down my throat and in my vagina. I lost 35 pounds in 2 weeks. I couldn't eat at all. I could only take small sips of water. I went to the emergency room. They said I had Herpes. All tests came back negative. I went to the Gynecologist to see if the problem was female. They said no. I went to a surgeon who did a colonoscopy. Nothing. All tests were negative. Finally, on October 24th, 1994 I woke up on the couch of our living room. That day is so clear to me, I knew it was the end. I was completely immobile. I couldn't move at all. My mom had her friend come to the house and help get me in the car to go to the hospital. The pain was ridiculous but I was so calm and so clear. I knew what was happening. I knew I was dying. How do you look your mother in the face and tell her it's your time? The emergency room said I had a female problem. They called in my Gynecologist. He wanted to do an emergency laparoscopy. I said goodbye to my mom and went to surgery. I woke up 4 days later in ICU with a tube in my nose pumping fluid out of my stomach and my colonoscopy surgeon telling me I have Crohn's Disease and my bowel had burst open inside of me which had abscessed my appendix, right ovary and tube. He said there was feces throughout my abdomen and by the time they removed that, 8 inches of my small intestine, and appendix there was no time for the ovary because sepsis was becoming an issue. He said I was very lucky. Lucky indeed. I'm smart enough to know there are people out there who are in worse condition than I am. I never feel sorry for myself because of this. I like to make light of it as much as possible. I can honestly say my life is shitty and mean it! And my doctors? They are the only one's who can honestly say they work with a bunch of assholes all day. I have stock options with Preparation H! I have a card for my car that says, "I'll move my car in a minute.. I have Crohn's Disease and I have to POOP!" Now that shits funny ;)

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Deaf...Blind and Dumb??

I once dated a deaf guy. He had been completely in love with me for about 2 years, so I found myself single and figured what the hell.. so we went out. Now mind you, he couldn't hear at all, but he could speak and read lips, so it was all good..unless it was dark out..which I soon found out. Our first date, he took me out to a nice dinner, we talked, had a good time. The second date we went out to dinner, went to the bar, had a good time..The third date. The third date was a problem. We were getting along famously, we really were, and I was surprised that I liked him as much as I did.. Well, that night we took it easy, went for a walk around his neighborhood, held hands, kissed a few got to be dusk, which turns to dark quite fast. We were sitting on his front porch, I was on his lap, and I said, "I love the fact that you can speak despite your being deaf." He said, "I love you, too." Huh? Well, I was too embarrassed to correct him at this point, I mean according to him, I had just professed my undying love to him.. Long story short, we dated for 9 months before I broke it off. Yeah, I'm THAT nice.. xo

The OzzFest Coincidence

Back in 1996, I worked at a safety harness company and had a good friend named Kim. Kim and I had a lot in common, liked the same music and everything else, so we decided to get tickets to go to Ozzfest which was coming to Pittsburgh. The morning of the concert, we head out..Kim, myself, Kim's sometimes BF, and his friend..We all get into her beige Ford Tempo and start the 2 hour drive. We start smoking some pot about 1/2 hour into the drive, we're drinking, music up, having a great time..when all the sudden the car starts smoking through the dashboard. We got off at the next exit and pull into a Burger King. Well, we don't know what the fuck to do because we were all halfway to wasted. Next thing we know a car pulls into the spot next to us. Same car. Exactly. Beige Ford Tempo. Same style, same year..exact duplicate. This guy with a limp, his girlfriend and his young, probably 10 year old, daughter get out of the car. He just happens to know a little about cars, so he has us get a plastic bag, some water, and a rubber band from the Burger King. He McGyver's the car enough so that we should be able to drive it and asks where we're headed. We tell him we're going to Ozzfest. Turns out, so was he. So he tells us to follow him there and he'll watch us and make sure the car is ok. We get back on the interstate and a few miles down the road green smoke just starts filling the car. We pull over and he keeps going! So we all jump out of the car and we're just standing there wondering what the fuck we're going to do! All of the sudden, here comes the guy, in reverse on the berm of the road! He yells, put a sock in the window and hop in! So we make Kim's BF take off his sock and put it in the window and hop into the other car. We all get to talking and find out this guy likes pot too, so we're now smoking it in his car. Turns out, the guy is also from the same town we're from... so he offers to drive us home after the concert! We finally get there and there are 3 stages at this concert venue, so there are different bands at different stages throughout the day. The guy who gives us a ride whips out a handicapped sticker, so we end up parked right beside one of the stages. Well, since we were so close, we didn't want to use our tickets just yet because then we'd have to pay $5 per beer, so we stayed outside and drank our own. The bands start getting word that there is a war vet who lost his leg watching from the parking lot, so after they perform, they're all coming over to meet us and taking pictures and signing autographs.. it was great! We finally decide to go in so we can see Ozzy and I but a t-shirt. I had a really cute half top on, so I just tucked the corner of the concert t-shirt into the waistband of my jeans.. Well, I had to pee, very badly. I go to the porta potty, pee, and leave my $35 t-shirt in there. I had the fucking shirt less than 5 minutes. My friend and I see a new band coming up on one of the side stages, so we go get really close to the front. Which was great! Except when the music started, the crowd started to sway and the next thing we know, we're in the middle of a fucking mosh pit getting punched and knocked over..Crazy!! All of the sudden, this hand reaches out and grabs me, I grab Kim's hand, and we get drug to safety. Needless to say, we then had a personal security guard the rest of the night who got us right up front to see Ozzy and Black Sabbath. I ended up dating him for a while after that, quite a nice guy, but alas, distance is no good.. So we survived the day, our new friend got us home in one piece and I have the best Ozzfest story ever now.. You know what sucked though? I bought the fucking ticket to see Marilyn Manson. Just so happens the city of Pittsburgh banned him from performing because he pissed on the crowd at an earlier show.. Just my luck..

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Best Kitty Ever

When I was about 4 years old, I got a kitten. I loved this kitten. I lugged that damn kitten with me everywhere I went the first day I had it. I named him snowball. I remember this day so vividly. I was watching cartoons, my Dad was outside drinking beer, my Mom at work, and I had Snowball. Well, I got tired and decided it was time for Snowball and I to take a nap. Snowball didn't want a nap. I wasn't taking a nap without him. So I took Snowball and put him in between me and the back of the couch and went to sleep. When I woke up, well, Snowball must have been very tired it seemed because he didn't want to get up. So, I went and got my Dad and told him to wake up Snowball. Well, he picked him up and put him in front of his bowl of milk and Snowballs poor legs split, two on each side, and face down he went into the bowl of milk. My Dad picked him up by the tail, walked outside, and threw him into the cow pasture. I still remember him flying like a frisbee through the air...two feet, tail, two feet, head covered in milk, two feet, tail, two feet... Needless to say, I wasn't allowed to have another pet until I was 18 :(

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

A Limerick

When I was a child, I was a bit of a snoop.. a sneak. Not a thief, mind you, but I always found quite a thrill going through peoples things. I still do but have the sense and decency to keep my dirty little mitts to myself. My aunt lived upstairs from us in an apartment building several times in my life. We moved a lot, she stayed where she was, and we usually came back to live in that crappy apartment underneath hers..a need to be with family, I suppose. So every once in a while, through the years, I would sneak upstairs just to look around. We had a secret stairwell from the inside of the 2 apartment building and the door was never locked, so I could literally sneak up there and spend hours looking at her possessions.. never touching them or anything, just looking. I would look at the figurines she had and wonder where they came from and what compelled her to buy them. I would look in her refrigerator to see her groceries. I would look at her smelly soaps and wonder why they were never used.. Then one day I came across a book of  Dirty Limericks. I had no idea what a Limerick was but I opened the book and read one.. I remember it word for word to this very day

There once was a girl from Peru
Who had nothing whatever to do
So she sat on the stairs
And counted cunt hairs
Three thousand, Nine hundred, and Two

I loved my aunt Joanie. She was a hard woman jilted by the men and children in her life. I made her a sandwich the day after Christmas before her and my mother went shopping. She ate, got dressed in her new clothes, came downstairs, sat on my couch, vomited and died. Massive heart attack. I always knew I took after her, her ways, her strength.. and made some changes to give myself a softer edge than she had.. but she lives inside of me and I know she's somewhere.. sitting on the stairs..counting cunt hairs..and laughing her fucking ass off.

Master! Master! Master of Puppets, I'm Pulling Your Strings..

Well, when you're good, you're good.. I've got this Domestic thing down pat..Apple Cranberry stuffed rolled pork roast is on it's way to goodness..I talk a lot! Probably because for 13 years the only people I've had to talk to are kids. I've just recently found myself having more friendships. I never wanted my child to be raised by the nanny, babysitter, or I guess it was my choice to close myself off. I thought I was being a good wife and mother for it. It caused nothing but misery and regret. Not at the child raising, but at the relationship part. If I'm anything, it's an excellent mother. It may be the only thing, but I'll take it. As I said, I closed myself off for the kids. God knows nobody else was going to do it or offer anything other than beer drinking, pool shooting, vacations, and a constant military presence. (Left, Left, your Left, Right, Left...Attention.. I've been in the military for 19 years. When I ask a question I want an answer in it's simplest form. Yes or No will suffice!) And when I say vacations, I mean without yours truly. Trips to Mexico, Arizona, Tennessee.. all for fun. I went to Florida for a week once with a friend. Had to take my son with me, which was fine. I got in trouble when I returned home because I went to a club and a trained fire breather had me light a cigarette on his flaming zipper. Not like I sucked the guy off, and I was upfront and honest about it. That got me nowhere. I wasn't spoken to for 4 days. (one of the many day long stretches of silence) I hold resentments deep down. I feel I'm entitled to do that. I gave up a young life to be someones maid, mother, and whore. I even did it with a smile on my face. Revenge is mine..and I'm still smiling..


I'm a foul mouthed little lady with a heart of gold. I'd do most anything for anyone. Which of course means I get walked all over, all the time. Which also means I won't change because I haven't yet, so why start now? The only thing that has taught me is to pick my friends a little better. I once got fired from a job I didn't actually have and wasn't being paid for. I was just helping out a friend in her new salon, busting my ass for 4-6 hours a day and someone mistook me for her as the owner and the next thing you know, I'm being fired! Remember that Seinfeld episode? I'm going to have to let you go...but I don't even really work here!... I know, that's what makes this so difficult. Yep, that's me. But I wouldn't change it for the world. It's gotten me this far, and hell, I actually like me, so fuck it. More later. Domestic Goddessness calls. Oh yeah, I like to make up words, so be aware now and don't bother fucking commenting on it. I will not put up with your incontolerances. xo