Lacking a Mothers Intuition

Behind her the noise escalated as she slowly closed the front door. She tried to sneak in, but they were waiting for her, what sounded like a herd of animals ran up behind her. The 3 of them stood there jumping up and down for attention, crying, and yelling seemingly all at the same time. She couldn’t deal with this again today, she comes home to this every day, and the story is always the same.

“After the day I’ve had, you’d think these kids would give me 5 minutes of peace to just recover from my day,” she thought.

The girl was crying the most, she could barely breath. Forcing out a few words in between the desperate gasps for air, “But.. Daddy.. Hit… Me..” and then she was crying so hard the words were no longer clear.

She couldn’t help but think how much she’d like to smack them all right now, they are always over exaggerating.

“You probably deserved it.” She climbed over the girl who was now crying harder. “Stop crying before I give you something to cry about, ” she yelled as she climbed up the stairs to change out of her work clothes and try and get a minute to herself.

By the time she had changed and poured herself a drink, she didn't hear anymore crying, just the normal fighting of boys, who had easily gotten over the events of earlier that day. She never noticed that the girl was changed forever that day, all she noticed, was that she was quiet, finally.

10 Rules I've Broken

Oh Blog, I’ve missed you.
It seems that I haven’t had much to say lately…I don’t want to sit and talk about pending court cases, and now I have a whole separate blog to talk about my surgery. I have little to talk about besides the fact that I’m doing really well. I’m really happy, most of the time, I’m dealing with a few things but I’ve talked about them to much, and I’m dealing with them, so there is no point in further discussion. So I know this is corny, but I needed something different. I'm working on expanding my blog topics, bare with me...

1. Stolen a car
2. broken into a mini-mart
3. skipped school
4. ran a red light
5. drove over the speed limit
6. cheated on a test
7. hit my brothers
8. Secretly gotten married
9. Secretly gotten tattooed
10. Kissed a girl?

I started to run out of ideas at about #2, but I pulled through with some good stuff, any broken rules I've missed? or even better, can you top me?

Pool Party Pandemonium

So we've had a handful of pool parties this summer, they have been a lot of fun. I honestly at this point couldn't tell you what happened at which party, because they have all blurred together in a sense.

At one party, Jim actually came, which was a pleasant surprise, so did a lot of rather random people. Chris came, because he was trying to sleep with Lauren. The whole Travia band came with Andrew. Meghan actually came too! Cristin gave a toast to Carol and he man getting married (one day, because we decided they were perfect for each other) which was rather embarrassing, but very entertaining. We poured out some booze for our homies who pasted away....No one got naked, and Ali and Meghan slept over, followed by a morning trip to the Cracker Barrel, because they were the only thing that was actually open on the forth of July.

There of course was the night of the Wet Whistle. Alexis, Cristin, Ali and I were out having a few cocktails, it had been a rather long week, at least for me. We were sitting around and told Paul that he should come by and visit us, to stop bullshitting because we hadn't seen him in so long. So Paul finally comes to the bar, and brings his tall stacked friend Austin. Who else do we run into at the bar but Jack and his girlfriend (who seemed to hate us, for no reason at all...), plus Travis/Trever/Trevis, (depending on who you ask) and the loud fat kid. So in no time we decided to head back to my house, and a party took place. There was naked boys and drunkness messes. Some kid got his boxers thrown into my neighbor's yard, I found a pair of torn boxers the next day, along with some other random clothing....The fat kid trashed my kitchen because he decided that it would be a good idea to start cooking, not cool, and not welcomed back. I definetly remember being up until the sun came up, because Ali and I had a rather hard time making a wawa run. My car was blocked in, we tried to steal Paul's truck, but ended up getting stuck with my brother's wannabe gangsta altima.

The last party was pretty random. It started off on a weird note. I was sitting in my backyard having a cigarette with Ali and my dogs, when Carol opened the back gate, walked into the backyard, and a dog walked in with her...very weird..at first I thought it was her dog, which I should have known better because Carol doesn't have a dog. We hung out with the dog most of the night; we named him Sprinkle. That was the night of many minors and the night my mom decided to call the cops to report that we found the dog. Thankfully no police ever came (even though we had at least one cop there anyway). The ungrateful owner of the dog did show up eventually and took the dog, which made me very sad. He was so well trained and got along really well with Moose.

This is also the party that Carol punched Dave in the junk because he kept throwing her cigarettes in the pool every time she (or anyone else for that matter), which made him stop throwing cigarettes in the pool. After most of the party people left, Carol, Ali, Pete, Bill and I decided to make a late night trip to IHOP. That was interesting because Pete decided to go outside and expose himself to us through the window. Would normally have just been histerical, but we were not the only people sitting in the area....That night Pete slept in my bed, Bill slept on the floor, and my dad woke us all up at 9am, that also went really well...

Oh pool parties, I love you so...we'll see each other again soon...

Blood Clot and the ER

I started getting this really strong pain in my leg, it was affecting my ability to walk, and making me miserable. My aunt, who is a nurse, took a look at it after I started crying at our Fourth of July BBQ, because I couldn't take the pain. She said that I didn't have any of the tell tale signs that it was a blood clot. I suffered through the pain and called my doctor bright and early Monday morning.

I couldn't get an appointment until Tuesday. I had spent Monday night freaking out that I had a blood clot and was going to die, and looked forward to my appointment. My doctor immediately said I needed to be rushed in for an ultrasound. The first place she called couldn't see me until Wednesday, and she said that wasn't soon enough, and off to the emergency room I went.

For being the smallest hospital in Abington, it was pretty nice. I didn't have a flat screen in my room like I did when I went to Jean's, but everyone was very nice to me. My nurse was super nice, I said I was going to need a pimp cane because of my limp. She said that if I got to leave that day that she would get me a cane, it would be an old man cane, but we could always bedazzle it.

After I peed in a cup to prove that, no, I'm really not getting laid, my ultrasound technician came and got me. We discussed how based on my name she expected me to be darker skinned, something like Mediterranean. Then we discussed our hypothesis on where the name of the Baker's cyst came from. Which it would seem would depend on if it's spelled Bakers, Baker's, or Bakers'. We decided it was because you get it from standing for a long time, and bakers stand for a long time, that was the reason.

I enjoyed the pain killers, and didn't mind the waiting. It turned out there was no blood clot, there was no obvious trauma to the knee or leg, and they decided that I had sciatica. I'm not completely sure what it is, but I know that there are only two ways to treat it, with a chiropractor or surgery. I'm going to go for the chiropractor and pain killers. The perks aren't actually helping as much as I hoped, it still hurts quite a bit actually, but they take the edge off. I'll keep you posted to how that situation goes.

Thursday, Power Name

So I'm on my only break, an amazing one hour, of my 10 hour day of classes. I had to sign on and leave comments on all my favorite blogs because my blackberry is being hate filled. I hate Thursdays, and Tuesdays, but on the bright side, I have a long weekend. I'm working tomorrow in the early afternoon, and then heading home for some poolside socializing with whomever decides to come over early and hang out, followed by a party with 50 of my closest friends. hahaha, not really. I have no idea who is coming, but we will most certainly see who actually shows up.

Now, on to boys...First of all, the boy I'm in love with has a girlfriend. (booo) Which is fine, I'm used to that. I helped him pick out the perfect outfit for his date over the weekend, and I figure he'll have to come around eventually. I try and ask him regularly when we're going to get married, but as of late, no date has been set.

As for boys with Power Names, it would seem that boys with power names don't have cell phones or people who answer their home phones. Therefore, when you accidentally fall asleep because your sick on an evening that you were supposed to hang out with the nicest guy ever, who can hold an amazing conversation for hours, it's impossible to get in touch with him again. Even though you didn't mean to and you with there was someway you could set the whole situation straight. I'm not gonna lie, I almost cried about it last night. I'm becoming crazy and obsessed, I wanna drive to his house and leave him a note or something, but I just don't think that would go well. I'm feeling a little stalkerish and I wish that I could figure something out. He really was almost perfect.

How about that...

Well I'm going to make this quick. I'm not really sure what I wanted to write but I was really excited about coming here to write something. Hmm...I need to think about this a little bit better, or at least try and make a note of what I was going to talk about. Well, things are going well for the most part. I met a boy, who doesn't have a cell phone, which makes my life rather difficult. I'm having a party this weekend...what else...I'm a little wound up today. Maybe if I could wrap my head around a single though I would be more useful. I will be back with intelligent things to say. Also, as per my most recent facebook status, I'm kinda sad that now that I can use a certain word to describe a certain person as freely as I wish, that person is not going to stay that thing, nor are they really much of that thing. grr.

Free Time

I am still waiting for my textbooks to come in the mail, so I have very little to do in the 5.5 hours of free time I will have between classes today. Currently I'm updating my grade tracking system, mostly just to do something school related. None of my teachers have posted any information online yet so I have very little that I can do. I want to make sure that I keep on top of everything this term so that I don't get to crazy when finals roll around. Right now I'm just bored and don't have much to say, but I don't want to stand outside and chain smoke, because I'm trying to cut back on that. Hopefully I'll find something interesting to do/talk about. Well I guess I'm going to sit and watch True Blood to try and kill some time.

New Happenings

Finals ended on Friday, they did not go as well as I hoped. With all of things that have changed in my personal life, it has affected my ability to perform at my full potential. I managed to get some decent grades, but overall my grades were not terrible, but the grades were not up to my standards. My week consisted of a celebratory pool party, followed by two days of sleeping, then two days of being sick. The rest of the week was a little bit of going out with friends, and a little bit of working.

I've been doing really well, and I've been really happy. I got my motorcycle permit on Saturday, I got a perfect score on the test! I did not get to go rock climbing, but that is just something I will have to plan for this weekend. I know I'm going to get more of the stuff done that I want to, it's just going to happen a little bit more slowly now that I'm back in school.

I changed my background because I feel like it's happy and represent my personality, and I want a happier outlook, and part of that was getting rid of my angry black background. I've made a lot of progress, I've started to hang out with some new people and get some new stuff done. I've been keeping myself pretty busy, which is always good. Plus, now that I have a new term started at school, and I have my personal life under control I can actually keep a good grasp on that, while still enjoying my personal life, and reaching all of my goals.

Time really flies by when you're doing things you love, and making and reaching goals every day. I think I'm doing a thousand times better than I have been in a really long time. I'm really taking care of myself, and I never realized how important that is. Well I have to run and find my next class! I hope everyone is having a great day!

PS-I lost another 8 Pounds!!
16 pounds in 5 weeks and counting!

Up and Down

I've been feeling pretty weird lately, just trying to focus on my school work and get stuff done. The term is almost over and I have so much to do! I'm just in the midst of a break at school, mostly because my first professor didn't show up to class. I have to try and get myself back together. Since I've been so depressed and stressed, I've been having a hard time sleeping because of the stress, but I'm tired all the time because of the depression. I'd say in the last three or so weeks I've missed more classes than I ever did my entire time at the culinary plus my entire time at drexel so far. Ugh, just another day.

Act like Your Heartbroken

Boy, she don't need you and she don't need me
She can do just fine on her own two feet
But she wants a man who wants her to be herself
And she'll never change, don't know how to hide
Her stubborn will or her fightin' side
But you treat her right and she'll love you like no one else
Yeah, how 'bout them cowgirls
Boys ain't they somethin'
Sure are some proud girls
But you can't beat their lovin'
And I'll tell you right now girls
May just be seven wonders of this big, whole round world
But how 'bout them cowgirls
How 'bout 'em boys

So all things considered, I'm going okay. I get depressed, obviously. It's starting to get ugly. Bobby and I were fighting on Sunday, he's trying to threaten me, and that simply isn't going to happen.

He actually said to me, "Don't even pretend like you're heart broken." I was dumb founded. He is basing my mental stability on my status on facebook. Then he told me to not blame Jenn because she didn't do anything. I kindly told him that I can hate whomever I wish, and that he should be ashamed of himself.

I have a feeling this is going to get much worse before it gets better. Considering this isn't a regular "break-up." I'm glad I got most of my stuff out of his apartment. We still have to sort out everything with the lizards, and the TV.

I think the hardest part is knowing that he has been lying to me for months. That I can no longer believe a word he says because he's lied about everything. Then, to rub salt in the wound, he brought another woman into our bed without even giving me a hint that there was a problem. She was moved in before we even broke up. When he begged me to take him back all her stuff was still at the apartment, and she was probably just busy that night.

This sucks...

Over Over Over...

It's really really over now, I'm going to get my stuff this weekend, we'll have to see how that goes. He promised he would be there. I really don't want to deal with it, I don't even want to do it. I'm going to have to, because that is the only way I can get past it, but I will be miserable about it until this whole mess has past...

I think every day it becomes more apparent how little he cares about me. He loved me..once. Then yesterday I realized that I am in fact losing more than just bobby. I'm losing Tammy, Jessie, Megean, and especially Aiden. That is what actually made me cry. I know Bobby is a cheater, and I'll meet another guy. A lot of people have been suprised that I can even get out of bed, nonetheless be so calm about the whole thing. Sitting in my car yesterday is really when it finally came crashing down on me, what was really going on...

Depressed

Bobby is cheating on me. I'm miserable, beyond all description. Sometimes I'm fine, and then there are times like now, where I want to do nothing more than lay in bed and cry. I'm failing all my classes, I'm failing at life. Everything is ruined, and I can't seem to pick up the pieces.

Strange

I laid there feeling sorry for myself
In a bed of kleenex
Stuffin chocolates in my mouth
On the phone with my best friend cussin my ex
He broke my heart
Felt like the world had ended
I cried myself to sleep
Thinkin I cant get over him
Strange
Talk about luck I woke up
And the sun was shining
Strange
I oughta be in bed with my head
In the pillow cryin over us
But I aint, ain't love strange
Got half a mind to spend my whole paycheck
On one of those dresses
Those strapless black ones
That are famous for teaching lessons
Dropped by his place
Picked up the rest of my things
He'll tell me I look good
I'll laugh and say yeah isn't time
Strange
Talk about luck I woke up
And the sun was shining
Strange
I oughta be in bed with my head
In the pillow crying over us
But I ain't, ain't love strange
Strange
Strange
Talk about luck I woke up
And the sun was shining
Strange
I oughta be in the bed with my head
In the pillow crying over us
But I ain't, ain't love strange
Strange
Talk about luck I woke up
And the sun was shining
Strange
Strange
Strange

Update

First off, and the most recent topic of all entries, Bobby and I worked everything out, and everything is back to normal. We are both going to try and be more honest about our feelings.

From all of the stress from that situation, and all of the exams I've had, and am having this week, I got sick. It hit me pretty hard on Friday with a fever, cough and sore throat. I sweat out my fever on Friday night but woke up feeling even worse. I got strep throat, and got antibiotics, but I still wake up every morning feeling terrible. I'm slowly feeling better. It hasn't helped that Philadelphia is in the midst of heat wave.

Regardless that it's going to be in the 90's today and tomorrow before cooling down, I'm counting it as a heat wave. It's no fun for me because I only own one pair of shorts. It's unacceptable.

I have been going through phases of being stressed about midterms, at the moment, I'm feeling pretty good. I had issues with a bunch of questions for my material science midterm so I e-mailed my TA. She eventually got back to me and I ran to meet up and get my questions answered. Upon arriving, she met me in the hallway with a packet of papers. She looked at me and said, "Look, I have a report due, and here are all the answers to all the homework questions." She went on too make me swear that I wouldn't show them to anyone/tell anyone/share them with anyone. I kindly explained that I am older than everyone in my class, and I am not really friends with them, nor would I want to help anyone because I consider myself in competition with everyone in my major. She was happy to hear we felt the same way, and let go of the papers.

I'll keep you posted on my other exams because I still have statics and linear algebra this week.

Easy Situation

So I think that Bobby has decided our relationship is over. I think the reason he keeps telling me it's not official is to let me down slowly. He acts like we're friends in texts and what not. I just don't think he fully understands how hard this is for me.

He has had eight months to get comfortable with the idea that we're not together. He thinks our relationship is going to slip into friendship and everything will be hunky dorey. I wish I could find a way to show him that ending our relationship isn't that simple.

The other problem is that he's been lying to me for months about happy he was. Just to one day crush my whole world and say it's all been a lie. If he did change his mind, how could I ever believe him again.

Today he said that he was sorry that he was happy without me. I always thought he was happy, so I never had a chance to make him happy. Lately, I'm just going through phases of crying, followed by rage. Fun is had by all.

My Enemy #1

My mirror.

I can't deny that I am miserable. I want to be happy, but I think that I'm a long way from that if I am not with Bobby. I know that nothing is official yet, but like I said before, I'm bracing myself for the worst. This morning simply was not a good start to my day.

I wasn't feeling so great when I got out of bed. I scratched one of my mosquito bite scabs and was bleeding. When I walked into the bathroom to take a shower, I of course looked in the mirror. Without a towel on, or even with one, really, I disgust myself. Then I thought, who would want to be with someone who looks like me. I have a gross stomach, massive calves, all muscle or not. Disgusting thighs. I'm covered in stretch marks, from my chubby arms, to my boobs, stomach and thighs. Plus, my boobs look ridiculous, even compared to my fat body.

How will I ever find someone who can love a person like that? I'm covered in scars, on my legs and arms the most, ranging from mosquito bites that were scratched open too many times, and from working in kitchens, to the <i>very old</i> self induced cuts. I have always dated fat guys because I always figured that was all I could get. Bobby is the only person who made me feel good about this body I walk around in, and that even I find repulsive.

I don't like dating fat guys, because honestly, they disgust me. It's because I'm so unhappy with my own body, and yet I don't just date chubby guys, I date ridiculously overweight, unattractive men. That's all I feel like I'm worth. I've been with attractive men, really attractive men, but none of them wanted to be with me beyond the closed doors of a bedroom.

I never thought that I had a poor body image, at least not in years. Now I realize why, when you have a beautiful person telling you all the time how great you look, and that they would love you at any size, how could you feel bad about yourself? The trick now is not to do anything rash, not to become so obsessed that I develop an eating disorder. I can assure that when I ate breakfast this morning, every bite was forced. I didn't want to because I'm so disgusted with myself, but I know eating breakfast jump starts you metabolism

Visit to the Shrink

To say the least, it went as poorly as I expected. I don't know how much detail I can go into without making myself cry. I'm assuming the worst, which is that Bobby doesn't love me anymore, and our relationship is over. I'm hoping for the best, which is that we will somehow work this out and we will be okay. I don't think that is going to happen. Bobby has been unhappy in our relationship for a very long time. The therapy session helped me to get a little bit of closure on the situation, but I don't think that I will ever truely be okay with it, because as I mentioned in my last entry- I really thought Bobby and I would spend the rest of our lives together.

I don't think I can really talk about it anymore. I want to, I want to get everything out of my head, but I'm afraid that if I write, it will become really real, and the perfect man, who was too good to be true, will walk out of my life forever. Maybe when the situation comes to some kind of closure I will be able to write about it. But for now, consider me broken hearted. Losing not only an amazing man, and the man I thought would raise my children, but the amazing and supportive family that came with it, because they are everything that a family should be, and that mine is not. I hope that I can one day understand what has happened here, but I don't think it will be for a very long time.

So in the mean time, I will try and mend my broken heart, and pray for strength, and hopefully if I'm really lucky, Bobby and I can re-build our relationship, on more solid ground.

Prayer and Strength

Bobby has told me that he needs time to think about our relationship. He says he isn't happy and hasn't been happy for a long time. He never acted unhappy because I was happy, and he didn't want to make me unhappy. He tells me it's not my fault and that he's sorry. He tells me that his unhappiness doesn't have to do with me. If that's the case, I don't see how leaving me will make it better.

Before going to bed last night, I said an Our Father, and prayed for the strength to get through this trying time. I asked that if it was His will, to bring Bobby back to me.

I'm so sad, I could barely stop crying. I could barely breath I was so hysterical. During the night he had texted me, and I told him that I loved him and that all I want is him to be happy. He asked me, "Ya well what if in the end us being apart will make me happy? What then? I'm not saying it will but what if?" I told him that I would have to come to terms with it. That it's so hard because just last week we were talking about wedding rings. That I don't think I would ever find someone I love as much.

So now, I'm just prayer for the strength to be strong, and be supportive of the man I love. Regardless of what happens.

I just can't help but think of all our talks about moving away together. We narrowed it down to southern california, kentucky, and pretty much anywhere in the south. We talked about having kids. The amount and genders always changed, but mostly boys and about four, give or take. He wanted to be a stay at home dad, he doesn't want strangers raising his kids. We would talk about different things we would do for them, and discipline, and manners. We would even talk about growing old together, and sitting on the front porch somewhere. Every time we would see an old couple he would tell me that's what we would be like when we got old.

Now, all I can do is pray, and know somehow this will all work out.

Falling Apart

The man of my dreams, the love of my life, is upset with me, and needs time. I'm trying to keep myself together, because I have so much school work, but if I lose him, I will fall apart

Lab Partners and Kids at School

I'm not the most social person in the world, so when I walked into my Experimental Data Lab, I just sat at an empty table and let people come to me. I ended up with the worst lab partner ever. He did the bare minimum during the lab and it only got worse for the lab report. The class is on a Friday so we agreed we would both have our parts done by Tuesday. At least I had my part done. When he finally sent me his part, I spent a half an hour reading it and sending him a detailed e-mail on how he could make it seem like a real college student wrote it as opposed to a 7th grader. Or even one of the smart kids on "Are you Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?".

After he sent me his changes it looked exactly the same as the last one. I did my part, fixed it up, made it pretty, and was done with it. It wasn't worth dealing with my extra special lab partner any more than I had to.

I got to my lab today and made sure I was social. I found a girl who I used to be partners with last year and joined her group. My now former lab partner showed up late to class, (big surprise), and tried to join my group. My group already had the max people, and the TA booted him to another group. My group finished the lab and the lab report with time to spare.

Of course that stupid kid tried to be in my group-I DID ALL THE WORK!!!!!!

Bad Day

After the bright and optimistic blog I wrote this morning, today has been terrible. It started off pretty good. I didn't do that well on my linear algebra test, but I know when I think that, I do better than I thought. Then I had about four hours of free time between classes to catch up on homework.



I figured out how to do all my statics homework by myself, and I got them all right. After Statics, I went to the computer lab to work on my linear algebra. Almost immediately after starting it, I realized I didn't actually know how to do anything.



I went to get help from a teaching assistant (TA) because one was supposed to have office hours. I get there and by office hours he means class. I try to tell the teacher why I was there, and then in typical fashion, I start welling up like I'm going to burst into tears. I'd truly love to know why I do that, I can't control it, but it always happens during one on one conversations where I'm asking for help. Regardless, the teacher trying not to make me cry, quickly starts explaining the lab to me.

After that whole escapade, I have statics. I'm feeling pretty good, I know what I'm doing in that class. Every class we have a quiz at the end. Somehow after my TA explains all the stuff I already figured out how to do, she gives us the quiz. She explained it in the worst way, and I unlearned/no longer understood any of it. Regardless, I'm quite sure, I bombed the quiz.



Lastly, I went back to take the quiz on the linear algebra lab that I recently has explained to me, and I'm locked out. So as I'm sitting here on the train, I'm praying that my TA will get my e-mail sometime soon and rectify the problem, otherwise, it's one of many bad grades I've gotten today

Anti-Depressants and Update

I think I've come to the decision that I no longer need to take anti-depressants. I stopped taking them a while ago, and have been planning on taking them again. With the help of my new shrink I don't think I really need to take them again. It's probably the greatest thing ever. I have had so many terrible shrinks, and I finally have a good one.

Even with school as crazy and hectic as it, I'm keeping it together. I still can't wait until the weekend. I still strongly dislike family holidays, but I deal with them 1000 times better than ever before.

I'm currently in the process of joining The Society of Women Engineers (SWE). I haven't been a part of any extra curricula activities since I was at the Culinary. I used to be the President of the Women Chefs and Restaurateurs, which is kind of like SWE. Plus I was a member of Alliance. I've been slacking at Drexel, but I have more work to do at Drexel outside of class than I ever did at the Culinary.

My New Shrink

So I went to see my new shrink yesterday. He is the same shrink who worked with my brother when he was a teenager, and is currently working with my brother. I have had more shrinks than I can remember, and I can honestly say I think this is the best shrink that I have ever seen. Most of them just sit there and everytime you say something they ask, "and how does that make you feel?" and that makes me feel pissed off. I hate when they do that. This guy doesn't do that. He listens, and waits for me to tell me things, and if while I'm talking a reach a point where I just have nothing else to say, he'll ask me a question, but not the standard question, and actual question about what I've been saying. It shows he's actually listening.

I also like the fact that he already knows my family. He knows my dad is abusive and insane, and that both of my brothers are mean and self centered, and that my mom is passive and dismissive. It makes a big difference, because I don't have to waste my time explaining the level of crazy that I deal with on a regular basis.

I also really think that this time, this is going to work. Not just because he's a good shrink, but because I want this more than I have ever wanted it before. Not only that, he gives feedback, and I think that between my trying and his skill, we might be able to break the cycle of abuse that I put up with and have come to accept as an every day part of life.

Feeling Shitty

I'm usually pretty indifferent while I'm at work. I usually just go through the motions with no real care about what I'm doing. I'm sitting at work now and I feel terrible. I hate my body, I hate everything. My mind keeps getting away from me and thinking about things that make me more depressed. I mean, just hypothetical situations keep going into my head, these scenerios, with no bases for anything actually happening, make me feel even worse. Nothing is actually wrong. It's making me crazy. I should be happy. I've started walking and all that, I got approved my surgery, it's scheduled and everything. I should be crazy happy. I just want to leave work, because I know when I go home, I'll go walk 2 or 3 miles and feel a lot better, hop in the shower, and hopefully that will last the rest of the night. In the mean time, I just have to deal with these feelings and images and all the other shit I'm thinking about.

I just hope that one of these days I won't be so depressed that I can call my doctor and get a shrink. I know I need a shrink, but at the same time, I don't like going. I usually just don't like how the interfere with my plans for the day, and then that makes me unhappy. I just don't like them..it's stupid. My day is stupid...

12 days until my last day of work....

Rages

My mom has said for years that I have "rages." I'm an angry person, and quick to jump to violence so solve my problems. Growing up in my house violence was just an accepted part of life. My brothers and I learned how to box when we were young, so fights just became more violent. I have broken a variety of things in fights with my older brother...kitchen chairs, eggs, computer keyboards, phones...and that's only stuff that actually broke while we fought.

I have often been able to control myself from getting physical with a person, in clubs and bars years ago, I never had to fight anyone because for some reason people found me intimidating. I have hit 6 foot something guys in clubs. A few weeks ago, I grabbed some guy by the throat in a bar for fucking with Jil. Every time something makes me angry my immediate solution is to beat the crap out of someone.

I have known for a long time that I need something to do about this. My mom has been saying it for years, and I have known it for a long time. So I have an idea...

I called my dad..

Dad, so, I've decided..here is what I need you to do..

Okay..what?

So I need you to find somewhere for me to box at. I mean, not just a gym full of little kids, I need to get in fights and need to get hit.

Are you sure you don't want to be someone else's kid?

What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Nothing..nevermind...consider it done.

So my goal, is that I'll be able to control myself, because when I get hit in a fight, I'm gonna be angry, and fighting regularly will help me to control that angry. That, and I think that I will good to get my ass kicked. It's weird, but I think that it would help. Anyone wanna box with me?

Domestic Abuse

Gunpowder and Lead

Miranda Lambert

County road 233, under my feet
Nothin' on this white rock but little ol' me
I've got two miles 'til, he makes bail
And if I'm right we're headed straight for hell

I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
If he wants a fight, well now he's got one
And he ain't seen me crazy yet

He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll
Don't that sound like a real man?
I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of
Gunpowder and lead

Well it's half past ten, another six pack in

And I can feel the rumble like a cold black wind
He pulls in the drive, gravel flies
He don't know what's waitin' here this time

Hey I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
If he wants a fight well now he's got one

And he ain't seen me crazy yet

He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll
Don't that sound like a real man?
I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of
Gunpowder and lead

His fist is big but my gun's bigger
He'll find out when I pull the trigger

I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
If he wants a fight well now he's got one
And he ain't seen me crazy yet

He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll
Don't that sound like a real man?
I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of
Gunpowder and,
Gunpowder and lead

*In case you didn't notice, you can listen to that song, there is a box towards the bottom of the page*

So I'm really pissed off about this whole Rihanna/Chris Brown thing. I think my biggest problem, is THAT WOMEN ARE STUPID. I mean, most of the stuff that we hear are rumors, but there has to be some merit to them, because they had to come from somewhere. I have heard that Chris Brown had been becoming increasingly abusive, yet she stayed with him. Then he beat the shit out of her in the car, and she married him? Really? That's the kinda girl I want to be a role model for my children. She's a winner. That is why women are stupid, who doesn't wanna stay with a guy who beats on her regularly, I'm sure it's just to keep some excitement in their relationship. She never knows when it's gonna come, but gosh darn it, we know it will.

The police report said that she was looking at his phone reading out loud texts from some other woman, and then Chris Brown tried to force her out of the car, then when he couldn't because she was wearing her seat belt. Then he pushed her head against the window, and then started punching her. He told her that he was going to beat the shit out of her when they got home. He bit her shoulders and fingers, and punched her some more. He also, threatened to kill her.

To top it off, Chris Brown's step dad used to beat the shit out of his mom, and he always thought he would end up in jail because he wanted to kill him. Yet, here he is beating the shit out of his girlfriend. I'm sure his mama is soo proud of him.

If a man ever lays a hand on me, I can almost guarantee, if I don't kill him, my dad will. Rihanna's parents, are apparently happy with however Rihanna decided to handle the situation. I think that Rihanna is a MORON, I hope she never has kids, because Chris Brown will probably beat them too.

Either way, my favorite part of that song is when she says, "you ain't seen me crazy yet," because no matter how crazy I am now, how many meds they try to put me out to regulate my mood. God help the poor son of bitch who lays a hand on me, because then you'll know what crazy is.

Update: Here is the link to Perez, with a copy of the detective report from Chris Brown's beating of Rihanna... http://perezhilton.com/2009-03-05-a-must-read-2

Moving Out?

I haven't had time to explain my moving out situation, but I will. Either way, I asked sent my dad an e-mail regarding moving in with him. My two questions were...

What would the rules be at your house?
Is there a closet in that room that I could hang up my clothes?

This is his response...

• No kite flying indoors.
• No guests above the first floor except for a bathroom break.
• Must take all medicines prescribed
• no smoking except on third floor
• 2nd floor tv on mute or headphones (provided)
• reasonable, sane conduct
• learn and use burgler alarm
• clean room and bathroom.
• Yes there is a closet
• Don't move stuff that is not yours
• Don't eat other peoples food without permission
• No off street parking provided but may be periodically available.
• Be nice to the animals.
• You get no pets. Too many now.
• No guns other than those provided, same for ammo.
• You may be terminated at any time with notice

...If I had more time I could think up more


My dad is a very special fellow. That is copied directly from the e-mail, I got it on my blackberry and came online to put it here, because I think he's funny.

Update, Anonymous, Landlady

I'm registering for classes today and then I have to go to the doctor. Very exciting. I've been so tired lately. I think my body is just used to the amount of sleep that it was getting while I was sick, and now that I'm a normal functioning member of society again, I don't have time to sleep all day.

Anonymous, thanks for the notes, I'm pretty sure I've figured out who you are, and thanks for stopping by. Your not the first, nor the last person who has/will tried to talk me out of the surgery, but I don't need to live with anyone but myself, and it is my choice.

Bobby's landlady stopped by yesterday. I never found myself referring to an old woman as a cunt until now, Jane is a cunt cunt cunt cunt cunt. Sorry, had to get it out of my system.

Jane just knocks on the door once and barges in. For all she knows, one day we'll be fucking on the couch, I'm sure that will be a fun suprise for all members involved. Regardless, after letting herself into the apartment, she hand Bobby a piece of paper (typed on a typeriter), saying that whenever she decided that the water bill is too high, Bobby has to pay it. She wanted Bobby to sign the paper and give her money. I told her no. In the lease agreement it clearly states that we pay heat and electric, and she will pay the water bill. It ended up turning into a rather big arguement, manly because she is scenile.

We have three fish tanks at the apartment. Two of those tanks are filled with lizards who are used to living in the desert, hence, the have a small bowl of water in the tank for when they are feeling extra hot. No more than 2 cups of water per lizard. We have a third fish tank that we have been trying to sell since we bought it, that has never been filled with water. Jane started claiming that the last time she was over all of the tanks were full of water, and that's why the water bill was so high. If the lizards tanks were full of water, we would no longer have lizards, they can't swim that long. Anyway, she got mad because we refused to sign the paper, and told her she couldn't do that, but if she wanted to leave a copy of it, we would have a lawyer look at it, and then we'd get back to her.

That just made her more mad. She started bitching about she had just spent all this money fixing the roof. As if that was our fault, her cheap roof was leaving above the $2000 TV and at the opposite end of the house on top of the brand new computer. Really? That's our fault? She's lucky we have renters insurance. Then she just stared for almost a whole minute before I walked her to the door, as she bitched about how we're slobs, which is ironic because the apartment is damn near empty. The second she got to the door, she turned to make another smart ass comment to me, and I closed it. Cunt...cunt...cunty cunt.

Roux en Y (part 3)

I met with my nutritionist again, and this time she sees that I am willing to make changes in my life, and she supports my decision. I'm working hard, I changed my eating habits, I'm eating more fruits and veggies, and I have cut back dramatically on my smoking. The meeting went very smoothly. The doctor is now submitting to my insurance to see if they are actually going to pay for it, now that I went through everything else.

I also feel the need to comment to my anonymous commenter... first, I'm sure I know this person well, but I'm surprised at myself, that I can't think of who it would be...

"hey, so it's not really my place to say this, but you should really consider life after that surgery.
Dumping syndrome will make you feel like death if you eat too much food, or if you eat the wrong things. Dumping is like... the worst acid reflux that you could ever imagine, combined with diarrhea and vomiting. and- eating too much isn't like binge eating. Eating too much after you've had this surgery is about as much as a well balanced meal. You won't be able to eat more than... oh... half a chicken breast and some vegetables.You are so young, and you are a culinarian."

I am young, but now is the time to get the surgery before I get any life threatening illness. I have spent a lot of time thinking about this, and I know the risks, and I know what life will be life after. I know that I won't get to gorge myself on creme brulee and truffles, but I got the opportunity to go to culinary school and to eat some amazing food, expensive food, and exotic food. It was like touring the world every meal. I also can still enjoy amazing food, just in moderation, like a normal person would eat it.

You won't be able to enjoy food nearly as much. Rich foods, spicy foods, large meals... I don't know what other health issues you have that are forcing you to make this decision, but if they aren't life threatening, i agree with the nutritionist. You haven't exhausted other options.
what happened to the Claudia who "would never get lipo or weight loss surgery, because it's a cop out- because i can do it myself"? That's what you used to say.

I almost remember saying that. It still is a cop out. After all of the diets, the personal trainers, and the stress, and the endless failure, some people just have to admit they can't do it on their own.

You are depressed, and feeling shitty. So it's easy to give in to the visual imperative of our time. But it won't make you happy. No it won't. The pain pills may help for a while, but I believe in the girl who used to throw for track. I believe in the girl who was the only one on the team who could do their 100 leg lifts. I believe in the girl who would drop it like its hot and drop down and get her eagle on (you do realize that those dance moves are strength training exercises?)

I am often depressed, which of course is pretty shitty, but my unhappiness does not stem from my weight. I have spent a good amount of time having a shrink explain to me that losing weight isn't going to solve my problems. Luckily for me, my depression stems from abuse, not weight. I have never really loved my body, but I have liked being a thick girl, not a typical tiny girl.
I loved doing track, being the strong girl. I still can do a disgusting amount of leg lifts, and I can lift hundreds of pounds with my calves. I can still do all those things, but the muscles that I have from track, and dancing, and personal trainers, and everything else, is unfortunately, covered in fat.

Well, i hope you read this, although i know that the process has started and it won't be stopped. I'm sorry things are tough for you right now, but you can get through it!

The process hopefully won't be stopped. It's incredibly hard for some people to realize, that the hardest part about getting weight loss surgery isn't the tests and the doctors, it's having a personal realization that you just can't do it on your own. You spend months feeling like a failure, and trying harder and harder to do it without help, and you can't. You'll try starving yourself, and weird diets, and maybe, like me, hire a big mean black man to force you to work extra hard every time you exercise. Except nothing works, and that sucks, and that is when you hit that low, low, where you finally come to terms with the fact that you need the surgery. That doing it own your own isn't an option, because you've repeatedly failed doing it your way.

To my anonymous commenter, I know I must know you, and I know it must be well. I can't imagine anyone remember when I did track, or that all the girls on my team were weak (they couldn't even do real push-ups), but I'm glad you spoke your mind, but I'm sorry I don't agree. And if for some reason you decide to leave me a note saying who you are, that'd be pretty sweet, because I kinda feel like an idiot not knowing someone, who I actually know well.

Devil Dog

Let me start by saying, my dad's girlfriend gets whatever she wants. If she doesn't get it she finds ways to punish my dad endlessly. Diane is an animal lover. She had a room full of rabbits when I first met her. She had some personal issues and wasn't able to take care of them and had to get rid of them. When she was better she was determined she could convince my dad to get her a dog.

My dad had decided long ago, that if he ever got a dog, he wanted a big, mean dog, that loved him, but would sit next to him and growl at people if they came near him. After my mom got our little dogs, he decided he wanted a big dog, a great dane. He told Diane that he wanted to rescue one because he figured there was no chance that the SPCA would ever have a great dane.

Diane would buy my dad collars and leashes for Christmas, with tag's on them that said "Loring's Dog." [Loring is my dad, pronounced like boring, but with an L] One day, Diane is going to the SPCA because they recently got some horses and Diane wanted to take them hay. My dad knows the area, and told her there was no way she was going without a small arsenal, so my dad went with. While there he asked if they had any great danes, and in fact, they got one the day before, and my dad took him home, and named him Gunner.

Now that my dad had his dream dog he was happy, but Diane wanted a dog too. While on one of the many vacations, in the Virgin Islands, Diane saw a dog that she wanted. My dad wouldn't let her bring it home, but after coming home and some tough love, Diane convinced my dad to let her have the dog. The dog was a while dog, an outdoor dog. It had a pack of dogs that it stayed with and fought with. They were never inside, but had a house that fed them.

Not to long after my dad gave in again, and as usual, which I only think is good, if I'm the one reaping the benefits; arrangements were made to get the dog. My dad flew both of my brothers to the Virgin Islands to get the dog and bring it home. The dog did not do well in house. It had a giant cage for when it was home alone, and after attacking various family members, he spent most of his time outback.

His name was Sprout, and then, it was Sprocket. Sprocket seemed loving an innocent, he was lay his head on the fence and whimper like he wanted you close, and wanted you to pet him and give him lovies. The second you came in his range, his kind demeanor changed, and he was doing his best to bite you. My dad has scars and scabs from where the dog has bit him, and Sprout only seems to love Diane. Just the other day when I was over he almost took my arm off, and if he hadn't been held back on a leash, he probably would have.

Only days after Sprocket attacked me, he attacked someone else at a dog training class. He also did it in front of a lot of people, and hurt the person. Now, he is considered "a vicious and dangerous dog" and has to be put down. Ironically, I was saying to Jil, days before, that I thought that he would attack someone and have to get put down. On top of the fact the Diane is already a mess about the whole thing; on top of the fact that they have to put it down; they have to get it's head cut off. The only way to test the dog for rabies is to test the brain tissue. It's really a shame, and that dog is the devil, I feel bad that he has to get put down, because he could be enjoying himself with the rest of his pack in the Virgin Islands.

EP Murder

While on facebook today, I see that tomorrow is Christina Rubin's birthday! So that made me think that perhaps I should right a little story about how Christina, ingeniously, killed her father, and then got busted. I'd like to add, before I weave this tale of murder, lies, love, drugs and money, that I thought Christina was a really nice girl. In fact, I saw her not to long ago, and she was happy and friendly as ever, just, not to bright.

Christina is going to be 23 years old tomorrow.
She graduated from Abington Senior High School in 2004.
She graduated from Penn State in 2008, with a BA in Psychology.
She was going to Chestnut Hill College, to get her masters in Psychology.

Christina also worked at the Finish Line in Plymouth Meeting.

She was always really outgoing, and super nice to me. Her mug she is truely terrible, so I thought I'd put up a nice one.

As the story goes, one day, Christina's father, Marc, was yelling at her about something. She was annoyed and said to her boyfriend, Jeffrey Leinheiser, she wished she could kill him. Jeff thought this was a pretty awesome idea, and said they should do it. Whether he said that in jest or not, Christina liked it. She went out and got a carry permit, and then legally purchased a Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum snub-nosed revolver

good taste in my opinion, small, chic, sexy, and perfect for a lady

and will probably never jam, so if the first bullet doesn't work

don't worry, the second one will :)

When "Black Friday" rolls around, Marc is passed out on the couch in the apartment that Christina lived in with him. He had recently lost his job, he's lounging in his shorts, and was out cold by 11pm when Jeff came over. Christina hands him her sexy pistol, he walks over and shoots him in the head, execution style.

The love birds decide to lay low for a few days, a week techinically. They rent a hotel room at the Holiday Inn in Horsham. This is where the couple first passes under the radar. One of them decides to make a call down to customer because one of them shot hole in the bed. That isn't there story to the front desk, they just called to complain about it. The front desk manager calls the police and they come to check out the situation. The police confiscate her .357 (the murder weapon, helllooo) as well as some ammunion and a tazor. When asked why they were staying at hotel since they live so close, they claim that their apartment is being fumigated for bugs. The cops make no arrests that day.

The couple goes back to the apartment with a chainsaw, and employ the services of another local boy. They attempt to cut the body up with the chainsaw. They manage to get through the first leg, but get stuck on the second, when Marc's shorts get ripped up into the chainsaw. Seeking a new plan, they go to a liquidation store, and purchase I large sectional rug. They rap the body in trashbags and roll it up in the rug. The three of them carry the body down from the ninth floor of their apartment building.

After loading the body in the car, they make a very early morning roadtrip to New Jersey, the armpit of America, where all trash goes. They arrive early with a bag of cement to make some concrete to sink the body. When they arrive at there destination, they attempt to rent a boat, but unfortunately they are too early, and they can't get one. Another plan foiled, and they head back home to glorious Pennsylvania. On the way home, Christina has an idea, they pull over at a random location, and toss the body into the woods.

In an ill-fated turn of events, this perticular day, was the first day of hunting for white tail dear. Hours after the body was dumped, it was found by a hunter. Since Marc had no criminal record, and there was no other way to identify the body, the Hamilton County Police removed his hands and sent them to the FBI to see if they could identify the fingerprints of the body, this was about December 5th.

On December 10th, Jeff was down by K&A trying to cop drugs. He gets carjacked (because he's a white boy in the hood). He calls the police to report his girlfriend's dad's car missing. It's a 1997 Oldsmobile Cutless, license plate MOBBUFF, and registered to one Marc Rubin. Remarkably, this doesn't get him arrested. The identy of the body has not yet come back, but Jeff is now closely tied to Marc in the eyes of the police.

Jeff and his hired accomplace are arrested on January 7th in Cheltenham township. Not for murder, they both had outstanding warrents for theft and other criminal activity. The very next day, the FBI gets the identity of the body. When police realize that Jeff had recently reported the same man's car missing, they ran his prints to compair to the finger prints lifted off the body and the trash bags, and it was a match. Busted.

I would like to add, that even though the police are saying that it's just because Marc yelled at Christina, but in fact Marc abused her, often, and for a very long time.

"Christina was in my Psychopathology graduate class at Chestnut Hill in the fall of 2008. She gave a presentation on Oppositional Defiant Disorder in which she stated that she personally had ODD and talked about how her father had physically and mentally abused her every since she could remember. She even told the class that her father had broken her arm in two places once. " Stated a Classmate

Mistos...mistos...

Brought to you by Rich-Jerks.com

Roux en Y (part 2)

My cardiologist, took a fun filled background of me, involving where I went to high school, how many siblings I have, and where I go to school now. He did another EKG, and after struggling around my boobs for sometime, though never actually touching them, thankfully, he managed to hear my heart. He decided that the root of my problems is that my boobs are too big, but made me get an echo of my heart anyway. An incredibly nice woman performed my echo. She came in joking and smiling. Considering that I was pretty exposed, I like that she kept the door shut and the lights very dim. When it all was done, I felt less violated than I expected, and wiped off all the goo off of my stomach, chest, and boobs.

My pulmonologist seemed to me like a waste of time. I came in, the listened to my heart, asked a few questions, and said I was good to go, and sent me on my way with a prescription for nicotine patches and gum. Unfortunately I did not get off that easily. He also set me up with a another list of tests. I'll let you know how that goes after next Friday.

My favorite appointment thus far, has been the nutritionist. First let me just say, who the fuck wastes their life getting a degree in nutritionist, I mean really, your gonna spend your life explaining the food pyramid to people, that's a joke, her life is a joke. Anyway, upwards and onwards. I arrive after being sick for several weeks, I had taken the day off of work because I felt like death, but managed to roll out of bed for this appointment. I sit there and she asks me if I ever tried dieting and all that (even though I've explained them to everyone else already). I find she has a bad attitude from the jump off, she doesn't think that I've tried other alternatives enough. She tells me that what I eat isn't good for me, she doesn't think that I'm ready to make changes in my life and that I'm not ready for the surgery. I look at her and kindly tell her that I have been to more doctor's appointments over the last 3 months than most people go to in years, I've been sick as a dog, and I'm sorry if I'm not super excited about the food pyramid.

My tolerance for shit at this point is pretty low, I've been dealing with these people for quite some time and this wench is the last person I have to get through before they ask my insurance company for the money. She makes me want to kill people. I wanted to jump across the counter and jam trans fats of any kind down her skinny little throat. Regardless, I kept myself calm for the most part and she told me that I should come back in two weeks. You have no idea how excited I am for this. Her other issue with me is that I don't like mushy foods, and after I get my surgery I have to eat mushy foods for a brief period. I think I can handle a week of mush, god forbid, and they have sugar free water ice at Rita's, what more do I need in life?

Roux en Y (part 1)

I started this process when it was still warm outside, I don't remember the exact date, but I remember the beautiful weather. I had finally decided that it needed to happen, I'm so unhappy with my body that I have spent a lot of time crying about it.

So for starters...The mental process of getting to a point where you know, in your heart of hearts, that you have put forth a good effort to loose weight. You have done everything in your control to lose all those extra pounds. I've tried diets, weight watchers, Alli, and I even got a personal trainer. Some of us just weren't meant to be thin. My dad weighted over 300 lbs when he got his surgery around the age of 30, which was in the 1960's, so his gastric bypass was much different than what mine will be. My mom's idea of losing weight is a strict diet of running, grilled chicken and vodka. She went from a very large woman to a zero, until she busted her ankle, and now she's fat like me.
grilled chicken.

Either way, that first step, is the hardest, when you know that it is all out of your control, and you have no other choice. It's a hard truth to come to.

My first doctor appointment consisted of me finding out that I was two inches taller than I thought I was, and therefore, I fell just under the minimum weight requirement. I cried and balled hysterically, I'm not sure for how long. My dad's response was much more relaxed. He felt that it was the greatest thing that could ever happen to me, because I should eat milkshakes for days until I got my weight up those few pounds I was short. I quickly learned that that particular doctor would not see me again for another 6 months, so I gained the weight, and found a new doctor.

You sit through a long, long drawn out presentation on all of your surgery options, you mentally decide which of the surgeries your interested in, and make an appointment to meet with one of the nurses. At that meeting, you chat a little bit, she gets some history from you, and then hands you a lovely stack of prescriptions for a day of tests.

This is another fun part of the process. You arrive at the hospital and are poked and prodded. You show up with your stool sample, they take blood, multiple times from different parts of your body, you get an EKG, probably the easiest of the tests. The chest x-ray isn't too bad, followed by an ultrasound of your stomach. So after you feel kind of violated you head back to your doctor with the results. This is actually the first time you meet the man whole will perform the surgery. My doctor, was awesome. He came in and told me I was going to have to see a specialist for a variety of the test results that came back abnormal. Then he told me that I was a perfect candidate for any other surgeries, so I was excited to hear that I was getting the Roux en Y, just like I wanted.

Unfortunately, it was not over yet, I had a rectal exam coming. Of course they tell me this about an hour before it happens so I get to sit there and think about for that whole hour, not cool.

Sick and Lonely

The thing that makes me more depressed than anything is doing nothing. When you're sick, the fastest way to get better is to sleep, rest and pretty much just lay in bed, until you feel better. I've been sick for almost a month now, and my doctor first thought I was just sick, then she thought maybe it was allergies, then I came down with pneumonia. Today I got a call from my doctor saying that I am allergic to everything. F'ing sweet.

Since I've been sick, I lay in my bed and watch "Bones" on my computer. Occationally I can sleep, usually for only 3 or 4 hours at a time. Sometimes I can't sleep at all and I just lay there for hours until I become so madly unhappy and depressed that I drug myself up until I pass out.

I just don't want to be sick anymore, it makes me so depressed, I just want to be with Bobby watching TV and cuddling. That's not so much to ask....

Cigarette

Fort Minor

"Cigarette"

Man I love this rap game

Mainly cause its cool

To add a little spice to the life you've been through

Everyone exaggerates a tiny little bit

To make that shit sound more gangster than it really is

You can't appear weak man

We wanna hear street

Wanna hear you spit your thug over this here beat

Dont take it as sarcastic

I can't get enough

Im telling you

You can call my bluff

If it's not rough, then I really don't need it

I'm not even ashamed

I got too much reality thats filling up my brain

so sell me on that chronic, I'm addicted to the game

Suck it up like a cigarette, light it up

Its just like a cigarette, its something that I do<br/>

Once in awhile but between me and you

Its just like a cigarette Nobody's really fooled

I dont want the truth, I wanna feel fucking cool

Let me tell you something that I realized tonight

My hip hop radio is like marlboro lights

They're both selling stories and they sound about the same

Cigarettes say their safe, wrappers claim they really bang

We dont care if it's true when we lay the money down<br/>

We don't believe the words, we just love the way they sound

They're acting like we're idiots, They're lying to our face

Maybe we are idiots, we buy it anyway

I'm runnin out to get the next rapper's CD

Just suckin up the guns, drugs, and misogyny

The same way that I suck up all the stories

When I breathe that little bit of death supposedly cancer-free and

Everything they say's got the truth twisted up

But twisted up's what I want man, I can't get enough

Cuz even though we know it's all just a big bluff

We just light another up, what

We don't give a fuck

Its just like a cigarette, its something that I do

Once in awhile but between me and you

Its just like a cigarette Nobody's really fooled

I dont want the truth, I wanna feel fucking cool

Listen to the words, Listen for awhile

Lip Service radio, dont touch the dial

If you're in the car

Turn up the track man

Give the whole neighborhood some second hand rap

Matter of fact

Listen to the words, Listen for awhile

Lip Service radio, dont touch the dial

If you're in the car

Turn up the track man

Give the whole neighborhood some second hand rap

Its just like a cigarette, its something that I do

Once in awhile but between me and you

Its just like a cigarette Nobody's really fooled

I dont want the truth, I wanna feel fucking cool

So since I came down with pneumonia, I haven't really smoked. I think I've averaged one cig a day, and one day I think I had one and half, because I couldn't make it all the way through the second one.
I'm so f'ing sick of being f'ing sick that I might just go crazy. I don't understand why I'm the most unhealthy person ever.

25 Things...

I've decided to add this here too, because I never right anything as it is...

...Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. (It's really not as hard as it sounds). At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.
To do this, go to “Notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.

1. Sometimes I regret leaving the food/cooking industry
   
2. I'm afraid that after my surgery I'll lose to much weight, lose my boobs, or become one of those crazies who after they lose weight become obsessed no matter how thin they get they still "see themselves like they used to look"
   
3. I get depressed sometimes...a lot...but I've taken myself off my anti-depressents...in November
   
4. I miss Culinary school, it was soooo much better than hanging out with nerdy engineers
   
5. I don't think I have an real good friends anymore, I barely see/talk to anyone
   
6. I want to go to Vegas for my honeymoon
   
7. I can't wait to get my surgery (maybe next month if I'm lucky!) and I'm going to keep a photo-log of my weightloss
   
8. I'm afraid I won't be able to have kids, but I want at least 3, mostly boys, if possible
   
9. I'm greatful that I found the one person that I want to spend the rest of my life with
   
10. I didn't think it would be so hard to come up with 25 things
    
11. I love dancing, even though I suck at it
    
12. I miss highschool sometimes, just because at least back then my girlfriends and I would go to clubs and stuff
    
13. I want to live in Arizona, Southern California, or anywhere south of the mason/dixon
    
14. If I live in the south, I want to own a plantation, like a huge one, with a cool name, and seperate guest houses, and all that shit
    
15. I want to make enough money in my career that I can retire early, or if anything happens I can take care of myself and any children I might have
    
16. I'm conservative, like really really conservative, and I really don't care that people are bothered by it. When I have a plantation I will keep a shot gun in case someone comes on my property and exercise my right to bear arms, just for fun, because that's the kind of person I am, hehehe...
    
17. As conservative as I am, I support gay rights
    
18. I didn't vote for Barry Obama, I think it's ridiculous that he was raised by all white people but black people think he's special or something. (and don't worry, I assure you my kids will know I didn't vote for the first black president, because it's not about race for me, it's about politics)
    
19. I still cry everytime I get down to pray at church when I think about all the friends and family I've lost, especially Tim, and my aunt Gerrie
    
20. I wish I was more adventurous, Less shy, more outgoing...and mostly, less self conscience.
    
21. I want to work with women who have been abused, for some sort of shelter or something
    
22. I love country music and hip hop, and that's about it
    
23. Even though it's 7:35am, I'd kill to be in a bar with a white russian and a cigarette
    
24. I'm going to quit smoking... I got the patches and the gum and everything, I just need to actually pick a day, and start using them...because I don't really wanna quit, I'm procrastinating.
25. After I get married, I want to get lots and lots of tattoos, lots of tattoos, but I want wait until then so I can look nice in a wedding dress...and I want something like this for my next one, on my calf or my side...

Sex, Hookers, Strippers, Big Girls

So I like sex more than anything. Literally. You could probably name anything, and I'd rather be having sex than doing it.

That is, except if I was a hooker. Now this seems random, but I don't think that I could enjoy sex if I did it for a living. I think all hobbies and things people enjoy can be ruined by doing it for a living.

"They" always say that, "if you do something you love, you never work a day in your life." I think that's nonsense. I loved baking and cakes decorating, I loved learning all about it at culinary school, I hated doing it for a living. Not right away, but after a little while.

I think being a hooker could be fun in the beginning, but after a while, it would take the fun out of sex. I mean, if it didn't include the random beatings/raping by John's and getting shorted on cash and all that shit.

Strippers on the other hand, kind of have it made. They don't (necessarily) fuck anyone.

After going to a strip club not to long ago, it seems like a pretty sweet deal, especially for some of the girls that were at the club I was at. The standard was that you had to tip every stripper. After each girl danced they would come around and collect money from you, and maybe shake there ass/tits at you.

Being a stipper must be AMAZING for your self esteem, in a way, besides the whole low morals, selling your body for money thing. Think about it, you dance around in almost nothing to nothing, and people throw money at you because they are so happy to get to see you naked.

Personally, I don't think super skinny girls are attractive, I don't like heavy girls, like maybe not as heavy as I am but they have to look "healthy," as they say, just heavy enough...

For example, no smaller than this girl

So everyone knows, the media makes everyone think they have to be super skinny.. blah.. blah.. blah, blame the media, Americas fat, all that good stuff. I'm not getting into that, but yeah, you know this jist. I was surprised to find that the heavier set strippers, of which I really only noticed two or three, were walking away with giant wads of cash, I mean, so much money. All for dancing for about three minutes, and then walking around to collect there cash and shake their ass. They easily had double the money of most of the skinny girls.

So I'm surprised, maybe because there weren't that many big girls, or maybe more men (and women if you count all the dollars I was throwing at those girls) than we realize like bigger girls. They looked healthy, they didn't look like a stripper who's done so much crack she can't see straight and hasn't eaten in days, she looks the way women are supposed to. Marylin Monroe style.

FACT!

Never tell anyone that you're writing a book, going on a diet, exercising, taking a course, or quitting smoking. They'll encourage you to death. - Lynn Johnston