Pole Dancing In The Dark

A Day Late

I wanted to post a heartfelt blurb about what Memorial Day means to me yesterday, but I never got around to it. That’s just typical “wait until the last minute – oh, you mean it’s all ready gone by?” me. I know that I take for granted the freedoms I have. I guess like many, I want to spend more of my time selfishly invested in me. I don’t want to have to think of the sad things or the hard things or the nasty evil spiteful things that make up this world. It’s a coping mechanism to prevent me from short circuiting from the pressures of what is going on lately.

But every now and then, I sit down and assess the things that are my life and the things that go on in the world, outside of my small narrow perspective. When ever I have a really craptastic day at work and feel my blood pressure rise and think about how horrible my job is, I sit and read the news. Lately I read, “Another solider died today in a foreign country" type headline, and I think about how lucky I am, how truly blessed I am, because there are so many men and women out there that are far from home fighting an enemy that doesn’t play by the rules of engagement. And then I think of their families and what they have had to sacrifice. It humbles me.

Hubster’s father is a Vietnam Vet. Both of us are too young to remember much about that war. But his father was in a foreign land for the first few years of hubster’s life, fighting for a cause and a country he believed in while his young wife began to raise this child on her own. I cannot even begin to imagine how fraught with worry she probably was the entire time he was there. I cannot imagine myself in those shoes. Her love for her husband and her belief in the ideals that both of them stood for humble me.

I have had a good life, an easy life, a strife free life because of the men and women felt the same as hubster’s dad. These people that knew that sometimes there are causes worth fighting for and worth dying for. These are the people that really understand that freedom isn’t free.

So, I just want to say Thank you to those that have gone before us, who sacrificed their lives for a belief, a love of country and to the families that love and miss them. I know that it seems inadequate, but it’s all I have. Thank you.

Joining the Dark Side

Oh yes, they will be mine....

Ooohhh, shiny...

I promised Lucy a few days ago that I would get back to her on the top five things that my circle of friends are crazy about which I just don’t get. Seeing as my circle of friends is relatively small, I am not sure if I can come up with five, but I will give it a whirl.

1. American Idol – seriously, I know that everyone confides that this is a “guilty pleasure” because they all know how inane it is, yet every single one of them watches it. If I really want to watch someone make an ass out of themselves while trying to sing, I would spend more time with the hairbrush in front of the mirror singing cheesy 80 songs. Oh, you mock me now, but you haven’t lived till you’ve witnessed the cheesiness of my “Stray Cat Strut.”
2. Mountain Biking - Ok, I don’t spend any time with these people anymore because they are always either on a mountain bike, or recovering from some heinous injury they have received while on the mountain bike. I’m running out of money from all the get well - heal up soon wishes and gifts because of these nimrods. I had a girlfriend that honestly tried to talk me into spending money on such a bike when she all ready knew that I had a hard time walking and chewing gum. No thanks, if I ride a bike, I want to make sure that both tires stay on terra firma the entire time I am riding it.
3. Atkin’s Diet – I am so glad that this little trend is finally on a down turn. I don’t care if you all think I eat too many carbs, I still know that my little bowl of pasta with tomato sauce on it is still much healthier for me than that big honking steak with some odd heavy cream sauce. Any diet that doesn’t allow me at least a cup ‘ joe in the morning with my liquid crack isn’t any diet I want any part of. Besides, Splenda? ASS! Give me saccharine over Splenda any day of the week.
4. Caviar and Dom Perignon – I have all types of caviar – from the really cheap crap to the really expensive Beluga stuff and I cannot say I am impressed in the least. Do rich folk just pretend to like this stuff, or is it an acquired taste? The only kind of Caviar I like is Taramosalata – which is a local Greek restaurant’s “whipped caviar with olive oil and selected herbs.” Is very tasty on pita. Dom fits the same category. I had it at a wedding and I wasn’t overly impressed.
5. Michael “asshat” Moron – yes, I actually have friends that like him and believe everything he says. Even if I have incontrovertible proof that he is wrong or lying, they will not listen. And I just don’t get it… I mean, look at him… he is not the least bit charismatic, his jokes aren’t that funny and I don’t think he has ever had an original idea. Ugh… I just think he is gross. He doesn’t even look like he bathes on a semi-regular basis.

Well, Lucy, that is all I can think of, off the top of my head. I know that a lot of my friends and most of my family don’t get me and don’t understand why I love to do the things I do, but variety is what make the world go round, eh?

In other news, life has taken a seriously wide turn into insanity-ville. It’s a good thing this weekend happened when it did, because there were a few days where I felt like my self control was going to snap. (It actually did at one point, and poor hubster took the brunt of the tyrannical mood swing.) I really can’t talk much about what is going on with work, other than to say there is a type of downsizing going on. It doesn’t really affect the official headcount, but a lot of contracts are feeling the brunt of it. And now we are supposed to do the contracts’ jobs on top of our own with everything else thrown on top of it. Sometimes I just get the feeling that this is all part of some sick experiment to see which one of us will be the first to snap. But I am lucky to have a job, especially around here. The image capital of the world is going blind.

So the work driven insanity is mainly the reason I haven’t been involved with blogging recently, and things are going to get even worse. Mandatory overtime with 50 hours during the week and at least 5 during the weekend. During the summer… again. I keep telling myself “I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.” The sad part is that used to be true. And it wasn’t all that long ago. But this too, shall pass.

Also, I have played around a little with CSS and managed to get a new look for the place, so all I need now is a banner. I even have general idea of what I want for the banner, but I have no artistic ability whatsoever… so, I’m toying with the whole contest idea. I just have to come up with a good “award” for the winning entry. Any ideas?

Not what was expected

Since work has been hell and I have been coming home downright exhausted, I've decided to cheat for today's entry.

Priest You scored 57 Holy, 61 Tactful, 42 Natural, and 65 Arcane!

Salvato himnu equis domini... my apologies to those of you who speak Latin, as I'm sure that means nothing... which is probably for the best because only a small fraction of D and D Gods actually have much to do with the Christian God, and so it could just have easily been "Dorroh muestra gah gah tormah" or whatever blows your hair back... the important thing is this... you are a man of your God. So much so that you are actually able to call upon favors directly from Him/Her/It... such as heavenly smites and whatnot. Moreover, you and your God are so tight that He/She/It doesn't even check to make sure you're putting them to good use before the favor is granted... well, for awhile at least. Some of your powers are pretty slick, I guess. Since priests are generally boiling over with suppressed violence and whatnot, and since your God-given powers never seem to measure up to the little tech-demos you see those arrogant mages doing all the time, you spend just enough time weilding a mace or other such weapon to ensure that you can kick one of those mages' butts if you ever find one alone in an alleyway. You are most likely found trading in your hard earned boons for a couple more hitpoints for the ranger to squander hunting his current pet peeve.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 58% on Godliness You scored higher than 74% on Tact You scored higher than 9% on Harmony You scored higher than 87% on Arcane

Link: The Which D & D Class am I Test written by effataigus on Ok Cupid

No one is more surprised than I.

Stolen shamelessly from the Muse.

My eyes hurt

Hubster woke up with a brilliant idea this morning. He thought that today would be a good day to play hooky. I was all for it, after playing devil's advocate for about 2 seconds. I'm not the type to feel all guilty about calling in pseudo-sick every once in a great while, mostly because when I do it, I really don't feel well. It's usually nothing serious, like high fever, malaria, flu, plague or blood gushing out my eye sockets. It's just the assorted aches, pains and slight wooziness that usually signals an oncoming cold. I find that most of the time that if I "play hooky" I can usually sidestep the infectious onslaught by copious amounts of napping. I'm all about copious amounts of napping…

Of course, seeing as it was a brilliant idea, it was never allowed to come to fruition as when he tried to call in, well, let's just say it didn't go well. See, he works with family, in a very small family business - extremely small… as in there is hubster, dad-in-law and mom-in-law. Mom in law was already taking the day off to baby-sit her grandson (my drool machine nephew) because sis in law works odd hours and days (she's a per diem music therapist - I am so glad that I never pursued that major…) So, there was no way for hubster to stay home. (And not for nothin', but the poor guy is extremely tired, extremely stress and also not feeling that great himself. He really does need some serious time off…) Since he wasn't playing hooky, I decided that I could manage to trod through the day at work as well.

So, hooky with the hubster wasn't meant to be. It's ok though as it is a short week anyway as I get the Friday before Memorial day off as well. Is anyone as surprised as I am that it is already the end of May? When did that happen? Wasn't it just the New Year?

~~

Outside of my personal life, I have decided to petition the UN to help me with my lawsuit against the London Sun and any other British rag that ran pictures of everyone's least favorite dictator dressed in his tighty whities. Good Bog people, where is your sense of decency? This is against the Geneva Conventions, right? What the hell did I do so wrong that I have to have this image branded in my brainpan for the rest of my traumatized life!!!! I had to look up my sources because unlike some publications that shall remain nameless – Newsweek- I actually care about the few facts that I publish on my blog right. So, I had to look again...

Oh dear gods, NO!!!! I’d rather be gouging my eyes out with this.)

~~

Here is the main reason why I hate living in NY and why I believe that some Medicare and Medicaid reform needs to be in place: Viagra for Pedophiles

You know, I had a lot more to say, but have since run out of time and ambition. I should have played hooky...

Alone: A Rant

Warning: There is a copious amount of swearing ahead, including a hefty volume of the F word. If that's not your thing, please stop now.

I’m cranky.

I’ve kind of sequestered myself away from the rest of the world for a little bit, because every time I come up for air, something truly awful has happened, and I get this overwhelming desire to just start beating people senseless. Actually, most of the people I want to beat have no sense to start with, so perhaps there is a deep seeded desire to beat some sense into them… but I am fairly certain that is a lost cause.

I hate Newsweek. As much as many may jest, I know that they are also seriously pissed. That scandalous magazine should be held accountable for each and every death that was caused by their lies, they should be held accountable for the property damage that was due to the riots that libelous story caused. As should the assholes that rioted. Personally, I could care less if copies of the Quran were desecrated. I would actually love to see a copy flushed down the toilet as I don’t think it is physically possible. Hell, my toilet would explode at the mere thought of choking down a copy of Ayn Rand’s ‘Anthem’. Think about the physics involved in that one people! Seriously, unless GitMo has toilets that have larger dimensions than the average North American toilet. Do GitMo’s toilets suck harder?

And you know what, fuck you, you terrorist assholes that motivated the peaceful protest into more violent extremes. You freakin’ burn the American flag pretty much hourly…. You don’t see us getting all huffified about it. Get over it. Just because someone “supposedly desecrates” something doesn’t make the meaning behind it any less true. It’s a freakin’ printout of words. I don’t honestly think God cares what some infidel does to it. Does the desecration challenge your beliefs? Does it change the way you feel about your religion? Perhaps the problem isn’t with the desecration, but with your strength in your faith. Deal with it, you whiny babies.

And did I forget to mention the pictures of these asshats demanding an apology from Bush because of the supposed flushing? Excuse me, but did Bush flush the Quran? Then why the fuck should he apologize for something that he didn’t do? Perhaps you should all apologize for your animalistic behavior in rioting instead.

FUCK!

Assholes, the world is filled with them. One would think that the media would pay more attention to the details of their stories after the freakin’ CBS scandal.

Random interjection (the word asshole reminded me): Has anyone heard anything about the autopsy of Terri Schindler?

Another thing that has been getting under my skin lately are those freakin’ magnetic ribbons. I am so sick and freakin’ tired of seeing them on all these different cars. And I am not just talking about the “Support Our Troops” or “God Bless America” ones. I’m talking about the “Breast Cancer Awareness”, “Diabetes Awareness” and “Down Syndrome Awareness.” I am beyond aware on all these topics and seeing a freaking magnetic ribbon isn’t really doing anyone a bit of good. Oh yeah, I am sure that the proceeds from the sale of said ribbon goes to one of the charity organizations (probably less than a dollar) but what is the point to the ribbon? To show off the fact that you gave money to charity?

Seriously, I have no problem with the idea behind the ribbons, but the fact that so many have to display that they have given to a particular charity or that you bought it at a 7-11 and they just ripped you off… well, I can think of many other ways to prove that you support the troops, and if you look over there  you can see what I mean. (I don’t know why I am so hostile towards the ribbons, perhaps it is because they have lost all real meaning when they are every where and about everything. It’s like those rubber bracelets. They kind of annoy me for the same reason.

Other things that annoy me lately:
Brit Hume. I’m sorry Brit, you just irritate me. Perhaps it’s your sign off tagline, or it could be that fact that you look like the Calamari dude from Star Wars, or the fact that you stutter worse than I ever did and you get paid huge bucks. You stole my career! Bastard! Oh wait, I never wanted to be a journalist… that’s why I went into radio. Well, that, and no one could actually see me (see, closet exhibitionism again.) Also Brit, you just keep inviting that idiot back again and again…. What’s his name? Mister mega most irritating man - Oh yeah, Juan Williams. He annoys me more than you, which is a good thing for you.

I hate the fact that right now, I feel like one of the “unwashed masses”. I vaguely remember taking a shower this morning. I even vaguely remember using soap, but here I sit, certain that Kerr-McGee is libel to set up an oil derrick right on me noggin’. At least there is the possibility that a shower when I get home helps...

I absolutely despise those assholes that find that it is so important to talk on their cell phones that they nearly run me off the road every single time I drive on it.

I hate the fact that every time I start to make a small dent in my work load, more shit gets piled on. I hate the fact that I do engineering work only to get paid technician pay and that if I complain about it, I could lose my job.

And frankly, I am tired of fighting a possible winning battle if it means I’ve lost the war.

I don't wanna be

There never seems to be enough time lately for me to do the things I want to do. Also, it seems as if munu hates me lately. I haven't been able to log in the past two days. But enough with the bitchin'.... here's Friday's quiz for the lapsed catholic in all of us. :)

Your Deadly Sins

Sloth: 40%

Envy: 20%

Greed: 20%

Pride: 20%

Gluttony: 0%

Lust: 0%

Wrath: 0%

Chance You'll Go to Hell: 14%

You will get bugs, because you're too lazy to shoo them off. And then you'll die.

Hat Tip to Gir

I'll be back

Yup, it's official,Carnivale has been cancelled. Now there is no longer a reason for me to pay for HBO, or Showtime. Time to make the cable bill a teensy bit smaller. (I don't care for Deadwood one bit, really.)

I also happened across a blog that I now highly recommend. Winter Songs. I clicked through just because I liked the title, but the reading is incredible. A good storyteller who seems to have a fondness for vinyl (albums, that is) who also remembers 8 tracks. I don't feel so old anymore.

Go. Read. Now!

DAMN YOU M&M / MARS

You (the brainchildren of M&M Mars) are officially on my shit list. What you have done to me is beyond all depths of evil. I hate you all. You are evil and you should have to pay for your eeeeeeeevvvviiiilllllllllll crimes against me and the rest of chocolate eating humanity for the wrongs that have been done upon us all. You forced me to choose, light or dark. I chose dark and ever since I have been under the perilous spell of the dark side of the force…

And then suddenly… you took away all meaning to my life by carelessly ending your evil Star Warian promotion and all my chocolate dreams have been dashed against the rocks of reality. Oh, the humanity! Oh, the dark side goodness never to be passed through these lips again. I miss you all ready, my lovely, my beautiful… my prrreeeessssssioussss…

I hate you M&M / Mars… You will pay… oh yes, you will pay… (preferably with some nice tasty dark chocolate peanut M&M’s)

MMMMWWWAAAAHHHHAAAAHHHHHAAAAHHHAAA!!!!

Also, in other bad news today, it may just be possible that Carnivale has officially been cancelled.

I really hate Mondays.

Random Fridays

So, my unleashed fury has made The Unrepentant Individual repent. That should show you all to tremble at my mood swings!!! (Just kidding, thought it would be nice from time to time for you to faux tremble in my presence… but that is just a dream, a lark…)

Seriously, although his entry sort of hit a nerve, I was never really angry at him. There was never any animosity in the land of HCBA’ers. When he clarified precisely which women he was talking about, the ones that use the old “I’m storming out on you and this wedding unless I get my way” trick (not to be confused with the Jedi Mind trick – I am such a geek), I could completely agree with where he was coming from. Those women give the rest of us semi-sane ones a really bad name. Oh wait, I cannot really include myself in the semi sane category, can I?

Anyway, it’s impossible to stay angry at anyone that owns puppies as cute as his. I mean, just look at this face and try to stay mad about anything. Oh yes, that dog is as good as puppy-napped. Now I just have to sneak him past the evil Triumverate of Kitties. Maybe his size will confuse them...

In other news, this was kind of, no actually, really really creepy:

Your Birthdate: December 21

Being born on the 21st day of the month (3 energy) is likely to add a good bit of vitality to your life. The energy of 3 allows you bounce back rapidly from setbacks, physical or mental. There is a restlessness in your nature, but you seem to be able to portray an easygoing, "couldn't care less" attitude. You have a natural ability to express yourself in public, and you always make a very good impression. Good with words, you excel in writing, speaking, and possibly singing. You are energetic and always a good conversationalist. You have a keen imagination, but you tend to scatter your energies and become involved with too may superficial matters. Your mind is practical and rational despite this tendency to jump about. You are affectionate and loving, but very sensitive. You are subject to rapid ups and downs.

Really creepy.

Lastly, because it's Friday and I am really lazy, I will answer the questionaire I received from Mister TF Stern (mind if I just call you TF?) via email last night.

1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER

Sin City – Hubster’s turn to choose. I actually kind of liked it. A lot of people did get up and leave during it however. But if you have ever read a comic book or some cheese 1940’s detective novel, you pretty much have the gist of the dialog. Neat concept though.

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?

Just finished Ender’s Shadow by Orson Scott Card. He’s a personal favorite of mine. Sadly though, I have been reading this series completely out of order (because I am an idiot.) So, when I have finished, I am going to have to read them in the correct order. Highly recommended to those who like sci-fi / political /military type things. Start with Ender’s Game.

3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?

Hubster beats me at all board games (ok, just trivial pursuit, but that’s all we really own), so I don’t play him anymore. Sticking to my computer games.

4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?

Any cooking mags. Some gaming mags.

5. FAVORITE SMELLS?

vanilla

6. FAVORITE FOODS?

Gnocchi, Chicken Enchiladas, seafood and sushi. (All four go remarkably well with Margeritas.)

7. FAVORITE SOUND?

Hubster’s laugh

8. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?

The realization that I have just left my purse in the back seat of a taxi cab in the middle of NYC.

9. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?

"don’t wanna!”

10. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?

Panera

11. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?

Alexander or Alexandria, Max, Connor. I used to love Christopher as well, but some asshat ruined it for me.

12. FINISH THIS STATEMENT "If I had a lot of money....."

I’d pay off all my debt, and build a Victorian style mansion on some lake somewhere. I’d also open my bakery.

13. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?

Define fast…

14. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?

I sleep with fat cats that have usually just eaten, does that qualify?

15. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?

very cool

16. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?

1984 Chevy Citation, beater. Loved that car.

17.FAVORITE DRINK?

Coffee with Caramel Vanilla flavored liquid crack and one little package of Sugar in the Raw.

18. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD . ."

start all the projects I've talked about starting.

19. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?

Yup.

20. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?

Deep Purple or Midnight Blue (which song is now stuck in your head?)

21. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN:

Rochester, NY and Erie, PA.

22. GLASS - HALF EMPTY OR FULL?

There is no glass.

23. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?

Hockey

24. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?

TF seems like a solid nice guy and I really adore his wife.

25. WHAT IS UNDER YOUR BED?

Free ranging dust kitties and a few monsters that are conspiring with them.

26. TOILET PAPER/PAPER TOWEL-OVER OR UNDER?

under, so the cats can’t play with it and make a mess

27. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?

Night Owl – always and forever

28. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?

benedict

29. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?

in front of my computer, knocking guards out

30. FAVORITE PIE?

Pecan – and by the way – what is wrong with those people in Charleston, SC.. I was there an entire week and no restaurants – NONE – had pecan pie for dessert!!!! It’s a southern pie!!!! Oh sure, there was key lime a plenty – but NO PECAN PIE!!!! You all really suck. Really. (Whew, I didn’t realize I was so bitter nor repressing that anger…. Thanks. And sorry.)

31. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU E-MAILED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?

Didn’t email it to anyone

32. LEAST LIKELY?

So the point is moot.

Thank you and good night!

Runaway Bride

This is a long one, so you might want to grab a drink, go to the bathroom, get some food, whatever. Linda and her wonderful husband Shawn know most of this all ready, so you guys should just pass on this...

I was perusing some of my fellow HCBAers’ blogs last night, trying to get caught up, off work time, as well as trying to keep up with a variety of hobbies and house chores. Suddenly there are all these things to do with my time, other than watch TV. Anyway, I get to the bottom of the list, The Unrepentant Individual and I come across his post a couple of days ago about the run away bride. He makes an observation about other marriages he has seen where the bride also walked away at one point, but after going through with the ceremony anyway, having these marriages end in divorce. So, based on his experiences with certain types of people (particularly women, in this case) he makes the assertion that if his bride to be ever “ever called off the wedding or given back the ring, that was it. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200, I’m right out the door. I’m tremendously thankful I was never in the position where I had to make that choice. But I’ve seen it happen to others.”

And continues with “So my advice to anyone who is getting engaged, or is currently engaged, watch out. Someone who does it once is emotionally unstable enough to be a bad risk for your future.” Brad certainly has a right to express his own opinion (especially since it is his own webpage). But I will say that I was taken aback by the statement, nay, I was downright outright offended – but don’t worry, I won’t sue, and I don’t expect any apologies. (Although I do agree with Number 2 Pencil who made this statement “Myself, I think anyone insane enough to plan a wedding with 14 bridesmaid should be committed on the spot (and I believe the Manolo agrees with me),…”

The reason why I was offended by Brad’s statement is simple. I was *one* of those brides. Not quite to the extent of Jennifer Wilbanks and nor will I defend her actions. No responsible human would ever put their families through that kind of drama without at least letting them know that she was ok. And the heartache her husband to be must have gone through, knowing that he was the prime suspect of a murder he didn’t commit and not knowing what happened to the woman he loved. No, that wasn’t the kind of running way a sane person would do.

And, in fact, I didn’t really run way. I called off the engagement midway through the planning stage. I didn’t take the ring off and throw it at my wonder fiancé and storm off in a huff. I didn’t yell and tell him it was over, that I was done with him, nothing as dramatic as that. I told him calmly and tearfully that I wasn’t sure if I were doing the right thing for the right reasons.

It was a dark and stormy night in December, I remember it clearly. I was at the time, working retail, when he proposed. See, he wanted to ask me on my birthday (December 21) but I was working all sort of insane hours do to the Christmas shopping season (how I loath it to this day) so he asked me a few days before that. He did it in the old fashioned style of getting down on one knee, with a waver of nervousness in his voice and his gorgeous blue eyes wide with fear/hope tunneling laser like into my brain. The question, unexpected, the answer, easy. Of course I said yes.

But as the plans started to be laid for the wedding, it’s was like I was suddenly in this leviathan pressure cooker. Not from him, not really. But life was suddenly taking this huge downward spiral. I left my job at one retail store for another retail store that was going out of business (because there was huge money to be made quickly) to a string of retail jobs that I was fired from to the job with the biggest asshole of an abusive boss ever known to mankind. Things were also going on with the fiancé that were unexplainable. He had these weird headaches known as “Ice Pick headaches” where he was unable to move for days, weeks, months at a time. He started taking all sorts of horrific medicines, with even more horrific side effects. So, now in addition to planning a wedding, looking for a new job, being verbally abused day in and day out by an asshole boss, and having supposed friends turn their backs on us, I had to now take care of a grown man that couldn’t even move. (It was very fortunate that he worked for his parents, other wise he would have probably lost his job and had to find a way to pay rent with his disability and my miniscule paycheck.)

Also, at the time, I was still living with my parents. I was too old to be living there, but I had no money of my own (every cent I made went into paying for a car and credit card bills that were accumulated because of the previous car – really long ugly story as well) so it was that, move in with fiancé and risk them never speaking to me again (old fashioned catholic folk) as well as not attending or helping to pay for said wedding. Living with them was also pure unadulterated hell. I love my parents, don’t get me wrong, but I hated being in that house every second I was there. My mother was constantly grinding me down with her verbal abuse and my father – well, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? He’s an alcoholic, and not a nice one – at least he could use the excuse for his verbal barrages as he was pretty much drunk most of the time. My mother can just be mean. He finally got nailed with a DWI, and somehow it was my fault that I was right about him.

So, even though my mother was kind of rotten to me, I had no one else to help me plan this wedding. And the worst part was as soon as the planning started, everything else broke down, and suddenly I was caught up in this whirlwind of activity and I wasn’t so sure any longer why I was doing this. It’s like the moment the pageantry of wedding planning starts, the reason for the wedding in the first place flies out the window. And somewhere between trying wedding dresses and picking out flower arrangements, I suddenly had the thought “Well, if it doesn’t work out, I can always file for a divorce.”

That stopped me dead in my tracks.

Then I stopped and thought about all the reasons why I was getting married.
1. Getting out of my parents’ house? Check.
2. Some sort of financial stability? Check.
3. Some sense of security? Check.
4. Did I really love him? Check?

Did I really love him for who he was other than what he could provide for me? I thought I did, but was I just telling myself I did because of what he could provide for me? Would we just wind up being another statistic down the road because I wasn’t really sure?

I will also admit to being fairly unstable at that time. There was a fight, a huge fight, an ugly fight, a knockdown drag out neighbors threatening to call the police because we wound up on the floor in the hallway in a heap (no, he never hit me. Ever.) Then we made up. But something still wasn’t right. I was the unhappiest I had ever been and I couldn’t marry him like that. Matter of fact, the thought occurred that he would be better without me.

Days later, I honestly thought about suicide. I got as far as a knife, in the bathroom, his bathroom. I know, completely unstable. Then I thought about how he would have felt finding me dead with blood all over his floors, in his apartment. Sanity returned, I grabbed the yellow pages, and found a “payment scale” psychologist. I then called him at work, and told him everything. He came home, shaken, and we talked. We talked a lot. He offered to go to the appointment with me, but I felt it was necessary to do this on my own at first, and him later if warranted. I told him I also needed time to decide if I were getting married for the right reasons. He was loving and understanding and wonderful.

Then I told my parents that the wedding was called off. I told them about the appointment with the therapist. They were surprisingly understanding. Everyone was, except for the dirtbag asshole boss – he was what he was.

Fortunately, after starting therapy, things did start turning around. I found another job, which was better money, my parents stopped being so horrible to live with. My father couldn’t go out to drink anymore because his license had been taken away, he was ordered to some sort of therapy himself, and fiancé went on being wonderful and supportive. And I found something that I had lost. Some sense of self respect, self reliance and self worth. I realized that I was strong enough to make it on my own if I had to. I also realized that I did honestly love this person that wanted to spend their life with me, psychotic episodes and all. That I didn’t need him for his money, or his apartment or what he could do for me.

I needed him to be next to me every morning when I woke up. I needed him to hug me and kiss me and tell me how he felt about me every single day for the rest of my life. I needed to hug him and kiss him and tell him how I felt about him every single day for the rest of my life. So, we were “re-engaged”, then married and I haven’t looked back since. Hubster is the mac-daddy of hubsters, and I am one lucky woman.

Besides, he all ready had custody of the cats.

Fear ME!!!

Ethne is a Giant Dragon that Fears Nothing, Stomps Around a Lot, has an Extra Head, and is Covered with a Thick Slime. Strength: 9 Agility: 8 Intelligence: 9 To see if your Giant Battle Monster can defeat Ethne, enter your name and choose an attack: fights Ethne using Strength Agility Intelligence

Stolen from CheeseMistress.

I'm not sure how I feel about being described as slimy, though. I shower... almost on a daily basis, even.

On to other things... Joe, I have discovered, isn't a big fan of sleep. I was kind of hoping this was merely a phase, but every morning the man wakes me up at the butt crack of dawn with his little trumpet a playing Revele. And no, "little trumpet" isn't a euphemism for anything, get your minds out of the gutter people. Oh, so that was just me then, huh?

Anyway... here is yet another picture of Joe: (It's a dupe, I know...)

Joe saluting the sunrise, and seeing as it was a beautiful one, who can really blame him?

After a hearty breakfast of SOS, he decided it was time to scope out the situation. He started to patrol around some dense foliage in the jungle of the living room.

After ascertaining that there was no danger from the ground, he got to higher ground, where he ran into some trouble with a rabid poisonous attack conch. He took the enemy on and in a matter of seconds, the conch was subdued. (It’s a good thing he has better aim than his cartoon name sake… those cartoon guys on TV couldn’t hit the broad side of a large covered bridge – I blame it on the censorship of cartoons… bastards ruined Bugs Bunny… oh, sorry, tangent, huh?) Anyway, GO JOE!!!

After all the excitement, yours truly decides that she needs to take a rest from the weary work of documenting one of America's finest. As I rest, Joe continues his patrol, making sure that I am safe while I sleep. Thank you, Joe!

Personal Observation

Troy sucked a mighty breeze. It was awful and I want that 163 minutes of my life back. I could have been blogging, I could have been reading, or shopping or gaming or making something decent for dinner... for the love of all that is holy, I WANT THAT TIME BACK!!!!!

Ok, better now.

Now it is time to take my traumatized noggin' and go to bed.

ARG.