If that's the case, I would rather be home reading.

I've mentioned sex here before, pre-separation. Here we go again. This time I am not so enthused about the topic.

I recently started dating. And by dating I mean one date. Though it has only been one date I have spent time talking to other guys. I just got to a point where I figured, hey, why not?

Most days I'm not sure what I want. Dating is a scary prospect on any given day but even more so when you have a child. It's almost like I'm sneaking out sometimes even though I'm only attempting this when Abi is with her dad. I still feel sneaky though.

My first date was fine. It was laid back, everything I thought it would be. I was happy that my date for the night was nervous like me. It made me feel comfortable.

I love sex. I think about it probably more than any girl I know. When it comes down to it you can bet that I am pretty much always ready to go. That doesn't mean I will though. While I have considered a "friends with benefits" relationship I can't actually go through with it. I don't need a relationship with sex but there does need to be some substance there.

What do men not understand about women? It's not hard really. For example, I am more likely to engage in sexual intercourse with a male if he wants to know what's on my mind....what I think and how I feel. If the only conversation leading up to sex....is about sex then it probably won't happen. And I want sex more than any girl I know. All the time. At least fake that you are interested in knowing what I think about.

Men assume that women want to tie them down in a relationship as soon as possible. The fact that I would become irritable very quickly about a guy's need to talk only about sex or the possibility of sex with me doesn't mean I want a relationship before we have sex. I don't even want a relationship. I don't want anything close to it right now. It doesn't mean I don' want to talk first though.

I wonder......I know that physical attraction plays a strong role for both males and females. It seems to me though that it only gets you to a starting point. I have to know what someone is thinking. And if they don't think, or think only about sex then that is a major turn off. To me, actions and thoughts make up most of my attraction to another person. I need someone who thinks.

It should be sexy to a possible date that I cry after reading 1984 every damn time....that Nelson Mandela and Lee Iacocca rock my world....that I want to save children....that I worry about not doing enough for the enviroment...that I can change my own break pads and rotors...that I can grow and can my own food......when a guy finds that stuff more sexy then my double D cups....hey, I will be ready to go.

Calm down....deep breaths...and get yourself dressed instead...of running around and pulling your threads and breaking yourself up....

I know what it feels like to be hated.
To know that no matter how hard I tried I would always be disgusting to you.
And I would never be her….
Because when you look at her you see brilliance and beauty.
When you look at me you see dumb and ugly.
And did you think I might not catch on to the view,
When you spent so much time making me believe I would never compare to her?

And I don’t mean to sound bitter so much.
But I get tired of saying I’m sorry because I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.
I wouldn’t resume things so I know it shouldn’t matter so much.
But I know what it’s like to be hated now…
And it’s a little harder to forget that than anything else.

I think though…that if for a short time I stop worrying about how my feelings will make everyone else feel….
Than I can sort through it all.
When so many years are spent forgetting who you are and what you believe,
It’s harder to find an original thought or a firm opinion.
I have to remind myself, that I’m aloud to think anything I want now.
And the things I think and feel aren’t so stupid.
They might matter to someone….somewhere….someday.

But it’s harder to remember that once you know what it’s like to be hated.

All I need is a strong cup of hot tea, a good book and my darling child running beneath my feet.

Wow. It's amazing how a mind can change so fast. The last time I wrote "All I need..." in the title of a blog I think there might have possibly said something about nyquil, mexican tequila and a knock upside the head. Eh, I still might need that every once in awhile but not lately.

The other night I sat down at the kitchen table with my mom, my grandmother and Abi. We had decided to make hot tea and had a real tea party with Abi. Afterwards, I sat there, drinking more tea and enjoying a good book. I actually took a picture of my book and huge cup of tea and sent it to a couple of people. Emilie texted me back telling me it was a beautiful sight. I know, I know.

My family, they aren't horrible. Living with them since the flood and now the separation has been difficult but mostly because I'm so independent. I don't want to make it habit, living with them though I know my mom would keep me there forever if she could. We have learned to enjoy each others company and that has taken many, many years to do. I credit it to her being clean and sober for a couple years now.

Abi is starting to freak me out. She is growing up and I don't want to admit it, I don't want to believe it. Yesterday she asked me if she could get a pedicure. What? My first instinct was to shout no and curl up in a ball and cry over her growing up to fast but I didn't. Mostly because I was driving at the time. It gave me time to think though and I eventually told her I would take her to get one soon.

I have always cherished the fact that Abi is a tomboy. Some would say that I have fostered that in her but the girl has her own mind. If she wanted to run around in a tutu all day while listening to Hannah Montanna I wouldn't be able to change her. She doesn't though...thank goodness. I can only hope that she will still want to catch frogs even with her toenails painted and polished all nice.

I want her to be who she is, whoever she wants to be. I just don't want her to do anything because everyone else is. I want her to be an individual....a good individual. I have a dislike for girls. They spend so much time being dramatic and gossiping and tearing each other down. I want Abi to be the girl that befriends the loner, the girl that sticks up for the kid being made fun even though all her friends joined in on all the bullying, I want her to knee or punch the first boy that makes an unwanted advance and walk away smiling. It's not so much to want that for her. Hopefully a pedicure doesn't tear down what I have been building for four years.

Until then I just need a few good books and a strong cup of tea to get through all her growing up. As long as she still wakes up making faces at me and laughing it will be okay. As long as every once in awhile I still wake up covered in marker because she drew on me after I feel asleep it will be okay. As long as she still listens to Wilco and The Beatles with me we will be just fine. As long as she still lays on my arm while falling asleep the world will keep spinning. As long as we can dance wildly while singing Lauri Berkner songs at the top of our longs we will be okay. As long as she still makes faces in the rearview mirror to get my attention in the car we will be fine.

I'm not so stupid. I know how lucky I am to have her. She is a miracle because somehow I was chosen to be her mom. I don't let myself forget that.

Testing, testing, 1....2....3...LAUGH!

Man, what is up with people? I think my sense of humor is okay, Emilie laughs at me anyway. John and Matt laugh most of the time. People laughing these days is a hard thing to come by. I'm starting to think that there aren't many people that want to laugh.

Where is this coming from? Well, I have to tell you....it is work related. At work, social networking sites such as myspace and facebook are used often. Perhaps it's the times, I don't mind so much though. There are people in my company that I just don't get to see that often and the sites let us connect...joke around a lot.

I've asked it before though and I'll ask it again....what is up with those addictions staff? Nothing I post or say comes across funny to those guys. I'm starting to think that maybe Jesus is to blame. Sorry Jesus.

More than once I've posted something on one of their walls that was obviously hilarious to find it deleted soon after. And let me say this...they did not embrace Rod Stewart at all. Who didn' think that shit was funny?

Recently one of the staff wrote a blog praising the Twilight movie and saying more specifically that Edwards character was the best actor. I disagree, totally. You can look back a blog and see that. But I think different opinions are a grand thing so I posted a comment jokingly saying how I disagree and I almost got beat up by angry 12 year olds while lauging my ass off during the entire movie. She then posted a short reply saying she disagreed totally. Where is the fun?

If Emilie would have loved that movie and posted a love blog about it I would have done the same thing. You know what though? She would have went with it. She would have argued her different opinion with me just for the sake of arguing and it would have been good times for the both of us.

Those addictions staff. They just don't know a good time. While I respect how Christianity has led them to a sober life and the fact that it helps them teach their clients that a sober life is better I just don't get why more fun can't be involved.

Of course I am sure if they knew the extent of my lifestyle they wouldn't even be able to look me in the eye. I think it's about celebrating differences....fostering a different point of view. How boring would it be if we all lived the same way?

When I was younger I used to get so pissed off that people didn't think and feel the way I did. I was stubborn. I still am. The difference now though is I love exploring different people. I love discussing different ideas. I know that my way might not be the best way and I know that you have to have fun while you can.

About that pesky religion....we all know I'm agnostic. It doesn't mean I don't believe...just that I can't settle on one belief as the right one. I believe in something higher out there. I just think that higher power probably has a sense of humor. I also believe that it's up to us to learn what we can while we can and what better way to learn than by learning from the variety of people around you.

Let's give them something to blog about.......

I am so ashamed to say it; Emilie and I went to see Twilight. Let me take you on a journey through this horrible movie experience.

I will admit that I was a bit curious to see the movie. I read everything and because of that read all of the Twilight series. I didn't at first. I said I wasn't going to. I did though and I can't turn back. Unlike most of my books I don't think they are something I will pick up again. I read them at a time when there was a lot going on in my life and I just needed something mindless to read. Kind of like when people have bad days and watch stupid girly movies. Which, I am sure is what must have happened when Emilie watched "Bring It On"....yes, she did watch it!

Emilie and arrived at the movies a bit late so we had to see a different showing. After Emilie made me climb over people to get to the best seats we sat there chatting. I don't remember about what. Suddenly a girl turns around to face us and exclaims "Oh my God! Do you guys like Twilight? Oh my God! I am going to see it like three times today I love it so much!". Not kidding folks. I wanted to laugh and tried to think back to a time when I was young and was so excited about something so cheesy. The only movies I watched like crazy were "Matrix" and The Doors movies with Val Kilmer. I still don't believe them to be cheesy. I stand by my many viewings of them to this day.

The previews roll and as usual I see nothing that I think would be worth coming back to see. I've been in a bit of a movie slump. I just can't get into them. Why was I here to watch Twilight again? I'm going to blame it on Emilie.

I could describe the whole movie but I won't. Let me just tell you though, I had to supress the urge to laugh out loud at parts that weren't supposed to be funny. The only thing that got me through was knowing that I would have been mobbed by several thirteen year olds if I ruined this movie for them by laughing at it the whole time. Instead I just kept hitting Emilie in the leg when I wanted to laugh. Sorry for the bruises Em.

Edward was all wrong. All wrong. He was to serious. The acting was horrible. It made me laugh. I get that in the book he was intense at times but I don't think he cracked a smile in the whole movie. He was not how I pictured him at all.

Bella was how I pictured her. The problem I had was not with her or the acting, but just her relationship with Edward in the movie. It happened so fast. In the book you knew she was thinking about him, trying to decide how she felt and what to do. In the movie you didn't see that. It just happened so fast.

I think some of the roles were filled perfectly.....Esme, Charlie, Alice, Billy Black and even Emmet. These characters actually made me laugh at appropriate times. I was at ease with the movie at those points.

Jasper freaked me out. What the fuck was going on with that hair? He was to intense, much like Edward. He had perhaps one line in the movie. Perhaps he was so uptight because in the book his character feels everything....and is able to change the mood in a room. The movie didn't get that across. It was weak.

I do not know what was up with Rosalie. In the movie she had the attitude she was supposed to have but I didn't picture her character to look like she did in the movie. I won't even go into Jacob. I can't.

There were things that made me happy. The Cullen's house was exactly as I pictured it. The scene where Bella get's the shit beat out of her by James was exactly how I pictured it. But they were not enough to make me a fan of the movies. I know though, that Emilie and I will be there again when the next one comes out. For that, we are idiots.

I don't understand movies these days. I have a strict rule that if I love the book I never see the movie. Always they dissapoint me. I haven't seen a decent movie since Lord of The Rings. Perhaps, my standards are to high.

I think, I shall stick with books. They are always more exciting.

All I need is a bottle of nyquil, some mexican tequila and a club upside the head.

It's been a funny week. And by funny I don't mean hilarious, it's been almost sad in a way. I feel like I can't quiet get a handle on my emotions and that's new to me. I've always been emotional but I learned to hide everything well. Now they are just there...and I'm not sure what to do with them or how to act.

I had some tough conversations this week with Matt. It was so crazy just to sit and talk and that's something I usually reserve for Emilie. It just came out though....like emotional vomit and there was no controlling it, no turning back once I started talking. Once you open up like that though....there is no going back and that is scary to me.

I feel like I'm at a point in my life where the decisions I make now are going to have a huge impact on my future. The funny thing is that I can't quiet narrow down what decisions I'm supposed to be making. I'm not sure they are all that visible at all.

Even writing about it is almost paralyzing in a way. I got sick this week. I never get sick. Some would blame it on a virus but I think it's because my brain won't stop working, not even enough to get decent sleep. I wish my body would shut down, that I could sleep more than a few hours at time. Mostly I would welcome that so I could stop thinking.

All this thinking isn't even productive. In the past I would have gotten it out by writing and it would have been good writing and it would have made me feel better. I always write a lot but it's just shit now. And when writing didn't work I could bury myself in books but I can't focus on them. They all seem to true now.

I just don't know. Oh yeah. To top all this off I have a job interview coming up next week. It scares the shit out of me. I don't know if I can leave my job now. I know I should. I just don't know if I can. I'm a coward. I know that.

This is Rebecca, signing off for now. If you want to find me look for the chick rocking herself in the corner and slobbering over indecision.

Hello, tell me you know. You figured me out...something gave it away.

I've been working to much. I tried to convince myself that my next check will make it all worth it but we all know it will be a big dissapointment. I am in fact, at work right now. I can quiet remember if I am still at work or if I left and arrived at work again. I'm that far gone. You can see that besides grocery shopping for work, I have not been that productive. Emilie, please forgive me.

Today is Andrea's funeral. I'm still in shock and pretty numb about her death. She was so young, her kids were young and it was so very unexpected. In a way, I refuse to believe that she has actually died so I can't ever imagine how her family feels, her parents, her children....her fiance. If, at work, her loss has hit us hard it must be even harder for her family.

I always try to be good people (that was for you Emilie) but I have to take some time here and wonder how good of a person I really am. I don't know, I really don't know. I get that I am probably my biggest critic and I'm not sure where to draw the line. You should want to be a better person but you probably shouldn't beat yourself up to much.

I feel like people can spend so much time disliking each other, but for what? I'm guilty of it. Ask me about those kids at work. But I have to wonder, how does fostering a dislike for anyone do anything productive for anyone? Maybe hate starts with a negative thought. Sure ignorance plays it's part but isn't being so negative in the first place ignorant?

In the end, what good does it all do? While I don't want to be that fake smiling person that loves everyone I don't want to be so negative anymore either. And I get that some would say I could be more negative where Mike is concerned, that I'm to nice as it is but it just doesn't feel that way.

It's been a crazy year. That damn flood started it all. Joking.....hmmm not really. I don't know. I'm going to make the best of it. I had a long conversation with Matt today about how I'm not sure I want to be single but I don't see myself ever getting married again. I like the freedom I have right now to focus on myself and figure out who I am. I like knowing that I can hang out with my guy friends without someone getting jealous. Single sounds good.

I'm good people.

Wow, it has been awhile. I've neglected this blog because I was tired of writing about crap, aka my separation and work crap. Did I mention crap?

I'm going to do something unheard of for me. I'm going to write about positive things. This of course being inspired by Emilie and her blogging adventures. It's funny that I would say that because Emilie and I only write this stuff for each other though my page tells me other people have been looking. Don't do it people. I'm telling you now this is the kind of shit only Emilie can understand.

I was thinking a lot about work last night. I have had a good couple of work days mostly brought on by the fact that I got to work with Emilie on Monday. My good mood has carried from there. Here is what I thought about......I love working with the mentally ill. I realize it isn't a job I should focus on forever and that isn't my intention but man I love those crazy clients. Sometimes.

Beyond that there are a select few coworkers that I am crazy about as well. You build that connection after awhile and though it will pain you to hear it I must say it reminds me of Royal Fork in that aspect.

Let's make a top ten list! Here are my top ten favorite memories of Hamilton Center thus far. Pay no attention to the order. It ain't a thing.

1. Getting punched in the face by my favorite client of all times. Don't let his small size fool you people. When the boy isn't well mentally he packs a mean punch. I had the blackened face to prove it.

2. The night of the Terre Haute tornadoes at Ft. Harrison. I was stuck in a small laundry room with ten mentally ill guys all night. I never saw any tornadoes but had to stay hunkered down witht he clients all the same. After a few hours of no smoking they got pissed. Thanks to that night my vocab of bad words tripled. I've got the foul language to prove it. I've never been called a god damn whore so many times. Good times, good times.

3. Playing Uno with Matt and falling out of my chair for no reason at all. It's what I do. I walk, I fall. I sit, I fall. I wake up in the morning and I fall down the stairs. I've got the bruises to prove it.

4. Hamilton Center Softball. We never won but we always drank a lot. It was even better after Emilie joined. One game Matt, Sarah and I made a pact not to drink. That pact lasted all of the work day. We got to the park then quickly turned around and found a liquor store. I've got the beer belly to prove it.

5. Book club....all two times. Book club with John's whiskey and Emilie's coping skills was the best. As usual Emilie and I were the only one's to talk about the book. I've got the knowledge to prove it.

6. Handing out presents to the clients with Cody one Christmas eve only to discover a client bought Cody and I gifts as well. I watched Cody open his gift and saw that he received a beer stein with two pairs of silk boxers stuffed in it. I will never forget it, ever. Cody has the boxers to prove it.

7. One birthday a client came back from free time toting a bag from CVS. He then told me he had a birthday present for me. I tried to explain to him for what might have been the 20th time I couldn't take gifts from him. He gave me my gift anyway. Two sticks of deoderant. I've got the smell good armpits to prove it.

8. Cowering in the kitchen with Emilie as a very irate client threw plates at us. This is the same client who pretends to kill me on a daily basis. Subacute is short about five plates to prove it.

9. Lunch time rewind. Enough said. I have a vast knowledge of cheesy 90's lyrics to prove it.

10. Listening to the radio while watching Matt play mobsters yet again only to find that we are both dancing together. He was executing a very fine robot while I was raising the roof. We both agreed never to speak of it ever again.

It's not really a top ten list. Just the first ten that came to my head. I need to do something now, like medicate the mentally ill while picturing Emilie naked. What? Whoa....I didn't just think that. I'm good people after all.

Maybe the sun will shine today.....

Oh man. I have not been in the right state of mind to write for a little bit. I’m not sure I am now. I have so much going on in my head and I feel like it might be a good idea to get it out.

Mike and I are going on two weeks of separation. The separation thus far has been a roller coaster ride of emotions. It would be like that under normal circumstances but as usual we manage to complicate it as much as possible. I suppose, I am more dramatic than I like to think. However, with each passing day we come closer to knowing where we want to be with this separation; which as apart.

We don’t function well together. The bitterness of trying to function well together is such that we make each other miserable and hurt each other in the worst imaginable ways. It just won’t work. I don’t know if it ever will again. I don’t think we are ready to fill out divorce papers but we definitely need time and space. If we can manage friendship at this point then…well….good for us. It is all I have the energy for.

It is hard with a child involved. I have to admit that if we based our choices on what is totally right for her then we would just tolerate each other and stay together. One can only hope that she is as resilient as we make her out to be. One can only hope. Time and future therapy bills will tell us in due time.

So now I have had almost two weeks to adjust to this separation. And it has taken that much time. I have done not as well as I could have but better than I would have thought. Perhaps I am more resilient than I thought. Perhaps we all are.

Though Mike and I are free of each other I have no desire to date anyone at all. I want to focus on myself and what I need and want and I don’t want to be dependent on a male to provide happiness for me. I want to find it on my own first. I don’t want to feel like I have to change for anyone or fear of what someone thinks of me. I’m just too tired to do that. Is that selfish? I hope so. I feel like being selfish. I hope Mike feels the same. That is what a separation is about…after Abi that is. She should always come first.

I don’t want much for myself. Just to know that I have attempted to do everything I ever wanted to do. I have plans, oh yes, I do.

What is my heart’s desire? Well, it is quiet simple. I picture myself in a house filled with books. I love books and I can’t live without them. They have to be in every room. I want a house bursting with books. I want the pantry filled with things that I grew and canned with my own hands. A cookie jar filled with cookies Abi and I made our selves.

In the yard should be lots of flower that Abi and I worked together to plant. A clothesline with fresh laundered linens hanging to dry. Did I mention chickens? Oh yes, there should be chickens that we collect eggs from. Chickens that I can feed everyday.

I want home cooked meals three times a day. I want friends and family to walk in on a regular basis and never have to knock. Is this vision to small or too big? I am not sure. I am not sure why it was not attainable before.

The more I look at my marriage the more I realize that it was not the fault of one (man do I want to say Mike here) but of both. Could we have tried harder? I’m sure of it. However, I’m not sure it would have yielded a different result in the end. We were not that sure when we got married. We were still two kids just having fun. Just doing what was expected.

The best thing I hope to get from all this is to be friends again. To be there for each other and to be the best parents we can for Abi. Traditional separations and divorces dictate that it should be messier. I don’t think so though. I think if we keep our heads on straight we can do this right and in the least hurtful way, I hope.

Lastly, I have come up with a new business adventure. This is not new for me. Lauri and I used to sit around dreaming up these things….we just never implemented them at all. And there were many, many, and many of them.

For some reason I like to clean other people’s houses. It’s weird and stupid because I don’t like to clean mine all that much at times. So I can’t explain it. When my great grandmother was dying I used to go clean my grandmothers clients houses all the time for her. She spent years cleaning houses for people and I loved tagging along. It is something I thought of doing on the side. Then, I totally shocked myself by coming up with an original spin for this business. I should go green with it and offer people a cleaning service with environmentally friendly cleaning products. The environment wins and it will be safer for children, pets and adults living in the house. Wow, I amaze myself. Not to mention that the products will be less inexpensive.

Mike also mentioned that I could help interested clients set up recycling areas. I could do that! Mike and I fell out of recycling but we were hard core over it for the longest time. I even went as far as refusing to buy baby food in the plastic containers because I could not recycle them.

So I lined up two work friends at reduced rates to try this out. I want to make sure that my products work, the clients are satisfied with them and I’m not going to kill myself before I commit to this hardcore. However, I am pretty damn excited about this. Rachel Carson would be too!

I might need a backup job if I keep pissing my boss off (Thanks a lot Emilie!). I think I am going to start making small goals for myself. A plan of action. I am only functioning well about every other day. That is no way to live. I think I can do better. And…I would like nothing better than to piss my mom off by showing her that Mike and I are doing the right thing by separating. I’m moving on with my bad self. Woohoo!

Why yes, I would like some vodka with my OJ.

Shit. All I really want to do is curl up in fetal position in the corner and cry. I kind of want to be dramatic about it as well. I picture myself with eyes so swollen that I look like I have been beaten up and tears that won’t stop saying over and over again “Why doesn’t anyone love me?” Are you feeling sorry for me yet? Don’t be. I refuse to pull any of that dramatic shit.

It has been one hell of a week. I’ve survived the first week and if you even knew the half of it you would be handing my sorry ass a Grammy right now for the best performance of my life. And because I haven’t broke down completely with all the bullshit going on I’m going to get all high and mighty and coach you how to get through this if ever it should happen to you. Ready, set, go!

This is Rebecca’s sure fire way to survive a separation.

Step 1: Let Go. This is important. You can’t move on without doing this. Don’t try to tell me you love him and you know he will get around to loving you. Let go. This makes for a more civil separation if there is such a thing.

Step 2: Separate living spaces ASAP. Don’t be staying in the same house like idiots. With separation comes bitterness. By the time you get to this point you will have spent so much time beating each other up so surely you can both execute this move without trying to hold on to much.

Step 3: Purchase a big fucking bottle of vodka. Go ahead and make it Smirnoff. You deserve it. Don’t drink it now. You are still okay. However, you are going to need that shit the first night your kid stays the night with the ex. If you don’t have a kid then by all means get to drinking.

Step 4: This is the step where you realize you need to stop calling the ex. You won’t realize that though until he stops answering your calls and texts. A friend after separation probably isn’t going to be a big hit at first.

Step 5: Convince your family that this what you need by turning into some cleaning, smiling, singing control freak. They will think you are getting back to good. You will know it’s because if you stop moving for one second you will loose it and may never find composure again.

Step 6: When you exhaust yourself from cleaning and everything is spinning and you feel like you are going to faint because you haven’t been sleeping then go to a dark room, lay down in the bed and tell yourself that you are not going to fall apart over and over and over again. When everything stops spinning and you have blinked back any tears then you may get up and continue putting on that good show.

Step 7: Put down the god damned cell phone! Didn’t we already cover this? You will not call people. You will get used to being alone. Understand that there are people who care for you but if you are going to get past this and move on it will need to be alone.

Step 8: Do try to remember to eat something every once in awhile. You need to take care of yourself.

Step 9: Do not dwell on everything you are loosing. Think about what you want to gain.

Step 10: Write a about it. You’ve got to get it out somehow :)

The quote goes something like, "The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can never end".......

It’s only the middle of the week and already it feels like it’s dragged on. It has been a most unusual week. It has been a very hard week. Mike and I have decided to separate. We have decided that we are no longer good together, that we no longer exist. It was a very mutual decision. One that has taken years to recognize and months to decide. It is what is best.

I’m okay with all this but I’m also very on edge. I have had no time to myself since the decision. I’m either at work or taking care of Abi or at the beck and call of my family. I feel like I’m going insane. A separation under normal circumstances would be hard but one where you aren’t given any alone time to deal with everything and cry is far worse. I took the day off of work to try and deal with everything and have been up and have been busier than if I were actually at work. My family really sucks right now.

I gave them notice that I would need to go into town to run errands and hoped against all hope that it would provide me some alone time. Then my mom informs me that I need to pick up my crack head brother and run him around. I have to think that if I can survive this without any time to deal than surely I am a lot stronger than I thought.

It makes it harder that Mike is still here. I don’t want to tell my family until he moves out. So I stay out of my usual hiding places to give him some space and have been forced to interact full time with my family. I do love them…I think. Someone is always yelling here. Even when they are talking they are yelling. I fell down the god damned stairs yet again this morning. Maybe I have already hit the point of crazy and just haven’t recognized it.

Fuck it…I’m going to Canada :)

I have a torrid love affair going on.........

With books that is. I fear that no one, not no one loves books as much as I. I'm dealing with it and moving on. Let me tell you though that you are missing a great deal when you don't make a proper habit of reading. However, I'm moving on.

I just finished another book today. I won't go into detail but it was good. I thought a great deal after I finished reading the book. I kept wondering what it is was that I liked about the book so much and then it hit me. Though the book was dry in some places there were moments where the words were perfect. They could stand alone from the book and still have a great deal of meaning.

I don't need books to relate to my life so I can relate to them. It's nice when it happens from time to time but I don't need it. I need them to teach me more than anything. I can't relate to people sometimes, a lot of times. Along the way I find a few people that I can learn from but I understand words more than anything.

Words so beautifully contained in books are always there. Sometimes I don't understand what they are saying and I have to mature a little and then come back and read them. This happened the first time I read "1984". I thought it was rubbish the first time I tried to get through it. The second time I picked it up I didn't stop reading it until I was done with it, until I was pissed off and crying like a mad woman in the end. That's the way it is with me...I am moved more by words and less by people.

Everyone knows who Nelson Mandela is. One day I purchased his biography "Long Walk To Freedom" at the book store. It turns out I did not know who he was at all. I was so moved by his book. I learned how ignorant I was about the struggles of South Africa. I learned how ignorant I was as a person. You could have yelled at me before I read that and told me how ignorant I was about South Africa's struggles but I would have disregarded you. I get written words though. I get books.

It's why I get so dissapointed in movies. I can't take it when a book I love so much gets turned into a movie. After a few tries of trying to watch the book turned into a movie go around I gave up. Unless I didn't fancy the book so much I won't watch the movie. It makes me pissed off when vital parts are left out and characters are cast all wrong. I get irate when the acting is not passionate enough for the words. If you have ever read "White Oleander" by Janet Fitch do not ever see the movie. It is awful and all wrong.

I use books as an escape always. They are precious to me. I don't need to brag and say that I can read a book in a day or that I read so many books each week. It doesn't matter. Perhaps reading is a different experience for each individual. I am only concerned that books provide an escape for me when I need, give me an excuse to cry when I need it, and teach me something always. It is enough for me.

Is being nice the same as being dramatic? I guess so.

I took a long drive to wal-mart with Matt today at work. We had a loooong discussion about work. We both concur that it just ain't what it used to be. Besides Emilie (and okay some of the boys are okay....) work fucking sucks. I've never had to tiptoe around anyone at work. Never at subacute was there ever drama. Not since all the kids came along anyway. One might say that me writing this blog is just as dramatic. I say fuck you. Stop reading now if you don't want to hear the shit. This is my venting place. If you don't like it then get out....real quick like.

Rod Stewart showed up on facebook yesterday and he was quickly followed by Right Said Fred. I don't care what any moron says, that shit is hilarious. It has given most of us the good laugh we all deserve after a horrible week filled with to much tension. Facebook has always been drama at work....well it was okay until all the kids. I've made mention before how it's used to let you know if you are cool or not. Unfortunately yesterday I had to go there and delete a few fellows. It's to much. People scoping my page then texting my legions of haters to tell them what I'm up to in the facebook world. I made the choice to go there and I'm okay with it. It was refreshing but not without the consequence of the deleted person texting me to see if I was really mad and to see if I would take her back. I won't.

Rod decided to invite everyone to be his friend on facebook. He shouldn't have, I told him he was a silly bitch for doing it. But he was all like "Rebecca I love everyone and besides I saw Mary being cool with you in passdown, that bloody bitch wants to be my friend". So he invited everyone. There were consequences to be dealt with. Rod had no idea.

Abi is half asleep and we are hanging out. All of a sudden I get this text:

15743090479: did you create the character on facebook roderick david stewart?

Me: Who is this?

15743090479: alena

Me: Yes. It is not a joke on anyone though so please don't get mad. Its just supposed to be funnny...I didn't want it to look like I was making fun of anyone so I invited everyone. It's just fun so don't be offended.

15743090479: i know but what part of dont bug me did you not understand when i talked to you in the med room? if im not friends with you why would i be with some character

Me: Shit. I cant keep up. I was trying to be cool about it. I am not trying to be hateful with it. I am not the evil person you are trying to make me out to be.

15743090479: i just dont want to have anything to do with you becca..in all honesty. why would i? there is so much drama i just rather keep my distance from u.

Me: Sure. All the drama at work stems from me. You know nothing about me. I wont say i have never said or done things i dont regret. But its nothing more than anyone else has done. I have always tried to do that right thing. I am not any more dramatic than anyone else there.

Me: Got it already.

15743090470: im not friends with u on FB. i would think its common sense that i wouldnt add a character that you have made up we can talk on a work/need basis. all thats need

Me: Got it already. Chill.

15743090470: well i hope you do get it...i thought you got it last time we talked but apparently not. so to put it bluntly leave me the fuck alone....unless work related.

Wow. That was some texting. I've never had the angry texting before. It was crazy. Now keep in mind the whole time Mary was texting me her lackey Jami was texting me to ask if I still loved her and if I was mad at her. Crazy bitches. Sure I'm dramatic. I'm not saying I'm not. But I put an olive branch out there and Mary shoved it up my ass. It hurt a little. I'm being easy on my bum today.

It's crazy. I was at a looow place last night. I mean really low. I'm not worried about what others think so much but to have a group of people at work that thinks I'm the most evil person ever. Well, enough said.

I chatted with Diona online. And because I know she reads this I will say thanks for the chat. However, I would just like to send a big shout out to Emilie for telling me I was just trying to be nice (I was) and that Mary can shove it. And a double thanks to Ryan for cracking my shit up about the whole thing.

Thankfully at the end of all this I have Abi to cuddle with. Oh Abi. She's never going to be a Mary or Jami or a pussycat doll or a bratz lover. I know her to well. I really wanted to listen to the Beatles with her these past couple of days but there isn't any noise aloud in Shepardsville or something. I think her and I might have to go do something fun tonight. Girls night....sans drama.

All I have to say is bring Friday on. I'm ready to book club it up.

I'm not on drugs, I swear.

The other night Mike asked me if I was on drugs. He was dead serious about it. His basis for the question was that I was acting weird. I still haven't figured out how I was acting but surely it wasn't like someone who was on drugs. My guess was that I was acting like someone who was tired and was hunkering down for a long stretch at work because the stupid kids at work keep quitting without giving notice. What, no. It must be drugs.

I discussed this with a friend. I was and am still puzzled by it. The advice I was given was to "just be yourself". And then it hit me, I don't know how because I'm not sure who that is. I've had more than one person say that they see several different sides to me. I'm not sure when that happened or how.

I would never say I'm trying to please anyone with these character changes. I think it happens because I just want to get by as easy as possible. If it makes it easier for me to deal with other people by adapting myself a little then that's what I do. Mike included.

But the more I think about it the more phony it sounds; the more unfair to myself it sounds. Is it possible to just be me with everyone? Truthfully that would probably piss some people off. I think I'm ready to start though. This whole gig of figuring out what the people in my life want and need where my personality is concerned and then trying to give it to them...it's done. I'm a bit to tired. I don't think it would be lying to say that the whole act has created some drama along the way.

I'm not sure how or when but I'll figure out who I am soon enough.

Dig a little deeper and you'll realize all I'm building up you're tearing down.

It's official. I have PMS and I'm irritable and crampy and confused and frustrated and not at all rational for the next week or so.

Now that I've got that out of the way I'm ready to write. I'm old. Or at least that is how I feel after this weekend. I drank a lot of Friday night and I think it's official I need to lay off the shit. I never vomit or get hangovers and it happened. It means I'm old and don't you dare argue with me. I know my body. Only old age would make it respond that way. To be fair to my feeble body though it did hold a lot of vodka that night. And to be extra fair to it I took shots of some disgusting shit. I'm only equipped for vodka, that's it, the end. But the truth is I'm not even so sure about that anymore.

I've decided to be kinder to myself. I have been more abusive to myself than anyone could imagine. I'm a mess. My body is a mess. I think I'm finally tired of it. I don't know how it happens.

Little by little over the past few years I have opened up about my past. Shit, if you don't count those college kids at work everyone I know has had a rough childhood. Most of the people I know had it a lot worse than I did. But I let mine stick with me, a lot. Emilie and I chatted about it a little the other day.

I can't count the ways that I let the abuse in my childhood take over my adult life. It's there and each time I peel a layer of it off I find another crusty layer underneath. I don't blame anyone. Who's fault could it be? We all have so many issues. Perhaps my parents shouldn't have been aloud to reproduce but I am glad that I was born, that I am living. I'll take this life even if it means dealing with everything that did happen when I was a child.

It's funny. Today I was sitting in the living room just staring at a picture of my dad. He was so handsome in that picture. It's only been in the past year or so that I could look at his picture and not feel hate. Now I just wonder about him. If he can see me, is he okay with what I've become? I used to ask myself if he had the capacity to feel sorry for what he put us through. I think, if he were alive and well that he would feel sorrow for his actions. Though I don't think he ever wanted to hurt his children it can't be denied that he abused us and that he let us be abused. We got good at dodging his hand and learned to be silent when the hands of his shady friends and son would travel to my sister and I.

I know this is a bit serious. It's the mood I'm in. That picture of him is beautiful though. I think because I've finally forgiven him I can say that. I can also say that I miss him. I really want to see his grave again. I want to sit there and talk to him and leave him flowers. I'm going to take a road trip sometime when Abi is old enough to be without me for four or five days. I hope that wherever he is it is peaceful because he was never at peace when he was alive. I can remember when he was alive that we were never aloud to wake him up when he was sleeping. He had nightmares constantly and they were violent. I never thought about how hard it must of been for him, how hard his life must have been. And through all of his bullshit there really were some moments of clarity and peace. There were moments where I know he loved me and was proud. He always used to make me come to the dining room and would pull out my mom's huge chapter books when I was in kindergarten and first grade and would ask me to read for everyone. Because he couldn't read or write, he was so impressed that I could at such a young age.

I think that is why I've always held on to reading. He died when I was in second grade but I knew that me reading always made him proud. Not because I could at such a young age but because he never could. He left me with some fucked up memories but I find if I dig a little deeper I can find some okay ones. They aren't much but I'm holding on tight to them.

The issues that I have spent so much time running and hiding from really have taken a toll on my body. There are coping mechanisms that kick in when you need them that you don't realize. Obviously food has been one for me as well as selective memories. It took awhile to let myself deal with all the bad memories. I firmly believe that some children block out the really bad abuse until they can handle it. Those memories...they trickle out here and there. Good or bad, they are still part of me.

I've never tried to be a victim about any of it. I hate when abuse makes people attention seeking. But I'm sure it's happened here or there. I don't know. I think I'm setting out to find some new ways of coping. This shit that I do to myself just isn't working anymore. It's not for me or I'm not for it. Something like that.

Besides, I think I'm being a bit hypocritical at this point. It's getting really hard to teach my clients when I won't take any of my own advice. I hate hypocrites. I never plan on being one. It just happens.

That's it. Hopefully my blog never strays this direction again. I'm so not one of those girls, I swear. Hell, I try to be the furthest thing from sappy female there is. Just forgive me for this one.

There are no words for that kind of dumb but I'll try my best.

Oh this blog. I see where it's headed. I am powerless over it's current road. You don't have to tell me. I know that there is a lot more inside of me than pent up anger resulting from work. Just let me sift through the anger people. I'm sure there is something worthwhile underneath.

I'm a pretty ignorant person. I really am. There is so much that I can learn that I haven't and there is so much I need to learn about. Hell, I can't even speak a complete sentence out loud without sounding dumb and mixing everything up. And when it comes down to writing I don't do it that well either. So before I go on and start sounding like a judgemental asshole I just wanted to point that out. I know I'm an asshole. I know I'm judgemental. But it's not going to stop me from complaining about dumb coworkers. Shit, I'm writing to an audience of one here and she doesn't mind so why not?

It's been a rough couple days at work kids. It will be that way until after next week. I'm dealing the best I can which would be impossible without Emilie. Even my boss is starting to feel it. You know something bad is going on when your boss starts the bitch session for the day and buys you a cookie afterwards. Mmmm...cookies.

We survive. What choice is there? As far as my shift goes we are all fucked. That would be all three of us. That's three people doing the job that it normally takes six people to do. That's counting the nurse we haven't had for ages though. We make it work though. One may be suprised to hear that we make it work without bribing the clients to be good and do what they are supposed to do.

I was pretty proud of that. When our crisis staffing situation started Emilie and I talked to all the clients and told them what was going down and how it would all be played out. We made sure they knew that unlike techs of the past there would be no bribing or laziness involved on our part. They would be expected to do what they needed to do to participate in their treatment and for that we would work our asses off to make sure we are providing them with what they need while maintaining high levels of respect on both sides. It's not unrealistic. It's actually worked okay.

Well, that is if you don't count the client who's really sick and has been refusing meds. But we've been there before. We agreed that he would not recieve extra's until he started self medicating again. It's not an easy conclusion. It means we've been through a couple days of name calling and mild threats because he's not getting what he demands. But we decided to stick to the plan. This morning he took his meds so he was able to start receiving coffee again. It's a small step.

Then evening shift comes in toting gifs to bribe him into doing what they want him to. I'm not trying to be an ass here but doesn't that totally undo every fucking thing we were trying to accomplish. God damn morons. That's right, I said it. And no I don't fucking feel bad about it.

Then I hear that they spent all last night trying to bribe him with extra food to get him to do stuff. We've been here before. There was a group of boys that gave him whatever he wanted. When we don't do that he eventually becomes violent on our shift. I know. Emilie and I have dodged the plates he decided to throw when his demands didn't pan out.

I remember those evening shift morons saying that it was always the boys giving him what he wanted and they would never do that. Now the fuckers are dazzling us during passdown with tales of all the things they have been trying to bribe him with.

I won't lie. I'm pretty close to being okay with telling them off. Why didn't I just do that today? And where do we find these people at? I'm starting to think that human resources scans the mall offering applications to all the little college kiddies who just can't stop spending their dads money and desperately need their own cash flow just so they can say "I have a job".

Are you fucking kidding me? Someone, anyone yell "PSYCH" right now and tell me this has all been a joke. Tell me that I'm not leaving my precious clients fate in the hands of a bunch of attention seeking idiots each day at three pm.

And tell me why in the fuck do the dumb ones always seem to outnumber me? How can there be that big of a group of morons in one work place? And how in the fuck do they all manage to be working the same shift together?

I'm pretty sure my anger is valid. Maybe not. In any case it feels better to get it out. Let's move on. When I finally wash my hands of someone's ignorance and decide I'm not going to let it affect me anymore I celebrate by writing a short poem about them. I shall now share a few of them with my loyal reader. This Emilie, is for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

S.G

Fancy words don't make you cool.

Snide comments make you the fool.

Your insecurities put me at ease.

Are you really going to stop talking?

Oh please don't tease!

You bitch about everything you see.

Life really isn't as bad as you make it out to be.

Get up, grow up, move on with your life.

Laugh a little don't take everything in strife.

Here's an idea how about trying to be a little nice?

Oh wait, that's right, you don't want my advice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

M.A.T

I see you queen bee.

Waiting for your pollin gossip at the top of the tree.

Your workers march on giving you everything you want.

Behind your back they call you a silly cunt.

You rule your sheltered world watching everyone below.

Did you ever dream you could be so low?

Don't worry little one I'll just set back and see,

The look of frustration on your face because you know you can't affect me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If none of those initials resemble yours than you can rest assure that I probably think a few nice things about you. As we all know. My opinion is of the upmost importance.

I do tend to write. Not a lot of people know that. I fear though most of my attempts at "poetry" only make sense to me. So I only share the silly little diddies. My other stuff is just thoughts in the forms of attempted poetry that survived some of the darker times in my life.

What's that? Now you can't sleep without hearing more? I'll tell you though I wasn't always the pleasant ball of sunshine that you know today. I'll leave you with one more. This one is from a dark time in my life. It's hard to believe that I ever thought that way but that was before I met my hero. I don't think I was every really alive before I met Mike. I seem to have grown up a lot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suicide

I can't take the shit that's weighing me down.

A few more days and you will read about how I drowned.

No one know's what's going on.

Move me around, I'm your can't lose pawn.

Don't think I'll do it?

It's in my head it won't go away.

I just took a wrong turn, I think I'll kill myself today.

It doesn't matter you can pretend you really knew me once I'm gone.

Wasn't she sweet?

Let's let her memory live on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That one kind of makes me laugh now. No kiddies, suicide is not funny. But making it to the point where you can look at those empty threats and laugh your ass off at your insanity is slightly refreshing and something to be celebrated. I'm adding a point to my self esteem stockpile for being a person with some depth.

Well, that was nice.

I love sex. I bet you can't guess where I'm going with this one. Now don't jump to conclusions. I won't be blogging simply about my healthy appetite for sex. That would be rude for those of you out there who aren't getting any.

There have been times in my life where sex was neither here or there. If it happened, great. If it didn't then I was okay with that to. I'm a bit to selfish to have that nonchalant attitude these days. Lucky for me my husband wants to just as much as I. I think if I weren't married I could very possibly be a slut. I'd be okay with that as long as I enjoyed the sex and it wasn't just the male scoring.

When I think back to days of sex long before Mike arrived it makes me giggle, a lot. How naive was I? I don't miss those days though there were quiet a few of them. I can remember the first time I had sex. My boyfriend at the time was a bit older than me. I was pretty passionate and expecting a lot. I ended up being very dissapointed. Apparently I was all the rage during that sexual experience or at least his comments during the act led me to believe so. Afterwards, he kept asking if I was okay. Sure I said. But where the fuck was the orgasm? I wasn't dissapointed because I gave away my virginity; I don't see it as much of a gift or a prize. I just wasn't satisfied. If ever I were in that same position now I would have most definately told him off. If you don't notice that your partner didn't get off then you just don't deserve to have sex. If you did notice but don't care then you are an asshole. I've never faked an orgasm. I refuse to.

There were experiences after that but I never really understood the beauty of sex until Mike. It doesn't matter how much sex is had between us. I can never get enough. When I think about it I just feel bad for other women. Perhaps there is some other woman out there thinking the same thing about her partner. I'm sure people do but it seems hard to believe that people can enjoy each other as much as Mike and I do.

Today I commented to Mike that it's amazing we find the time to have sex as much as we do. It's not uncommon for it to happen several times a day and that's after six years of marriage and nine years of being together. It's still not old and it's still never enough. We work opposite shifts and have no days off together. We find the time though. I just go to work sleepy, a lot.

I don't mean this to sound dirty really. Although during the act there are some pretty dirty things said. But I think it's beautiful. Most likely because we are so attentive to each other during the act. At least I hope I am.

This shall most likely make Mike blush if he comes across it. It has to be said.

And please women, don't fake orgasms. It's not healthy. If you don't want to have sex then don't. But I would advise you to explore why you don't want to. If you do want to have sex and are just faking because you aren't satisfied then stop now. Tell your partner. They probably know you are faking anyway. If not then you have gotten really good at it and have been faking for far to long. Don't demean yourself that way. It's sad. It makes me want to cry for you. Don't make me cry. Go now, go get yourself and orgasm.

No Moron, you couldn't possibly understand. Here's a clue...go find some compassion.

And so here it is. I've been waiting for this one for awhile. It's been building just waiting for a safe place to explode. I'm going to have to talk about work here for a bit. Hell, if I didn't work where I work I wouldn't need a fucking blog in the first place.

It's hard not to get attached to my mentally ill clients. I love them. I do. We all have our certain ones that we get attached to more than others. We go home and think about them and worry about them and wish against everything that they can live as normally as possible someday.

But you know what? Beyond all that I spend most of my time being frustrated as hell. Because what do we do for them? I can offer them groups and talk to them but I can't offer them everything they need....and the people who can don't seem to give a shit sometimes.

I love Subacute. You can't imagine. There have been times when I wanted to leave but couldn't leave the clients. I don't know if I'll ever be able to. It was a hard blow the first time a former client died from Subacute. I loved her, she was a favorite.

I remember the day she walked out that door. I knew she was going home to an abusive husband and I knew that she didn't want to go. This client was one you wouldn't expect to be a client. Her husband was a professor at one of the top technical universities. Of course he expected her to look her best at all times and was very critical of her.

I had a long talk with her that day before he showed up. I remember telling her she didn't have to go with him she had other options. But her god damn therapist and everyone else pushed her to go. They kept saying "You can't stay at subacute forever..."

So he came. I didn't let her walk out the door without taking her head between my hands and telling her right in front of her abusive husband how beautiful and smart and amazing she was. She left tearful. I walked back in tearful. She went home and hung herself in her garage.

It hits me at ood times. The last time I lost it over her was pre-flood. I had just dropped Abi off and was on my way to work. I couldn't control the grief I felt. I had to pull over and get myself under control.

Another client, same story. I can't give her name. Her story is much worse to me. She was so much more neglected I feel by the place that was supposed to be working with her. She was a severe alcoholic. I feel in love with her bad ass attitude. We bonded probably more than was appropriate. Because I keep pictures at work she came to know my daughter. She became to attached to stories about Abi and how she was growing and how she was behaving. Constantly she was trying to give me money to give to Abi and when I wouldn't she would go on pass and by her something that I couldn't give her. I always pretended to take it home but it never made it to her. This blog is perhaps the raciest thing I've done against work. In all other areas I've followed their rules beautifully.

One day I sat her down and talked to her for a long time about why I couldn't accept her gifts for Abi. I don't think she ever understood that it wasn't appropriate. Midway into the talk it all clicked. I never realized that she was reaching out to Abi because she wanted to reach out to her own children. Abi was a safer bet. Her own children had suffered through their child years with her as a roaring alcoholic. She was afraid that they could never forgive her. I could relate. I told her how it took an impossibly long time for me to forgive my own mother and father. But I told her it's not an impossible thing and she had to try.

She didn't have a lot of fans as far as techs were concerned. She gave everyone to much hell. I watched her so many times throwing things and threatning and cussing at her peers and us. I don't know about the others but she always apoligized to me. I always told her that the next day was a new day and we start off on the right foot then.

It came time for her to move out. I was upset over the lack of services we had offered her. Wait, we hadn't offered her shit. I felt that someone who was as severe of an alcoholic as she was should have been going to AA meetings her entire stay at Subacute and should be followed heavily and been set up to attend AA meetings upon her discharge. It never happend. Some techs supplied her with as much information as possible to get her to those meetings.

She moved out. She died. All I know is they found her dead on her apartment floor surrounded by empty beer bottles. They think she fell and hit her head. My boss called me at home to tell me. I didn't let it sink in then, I had company.

When I got back to work after all this I about killed every one I came across. Everyone was playing the victim card acting so upset (Funny enough one tech was so upset when she received the call that she had to be taken outside, this is the same one that treated this particular client like shit most of the time...whatever....attention is attention I guess) but not one person was questioning if we did enough for her. So I started to.

When I asked why she was never set up with AA meetings I got the reply that she would have never went. What? Could you be more pretentious? This isn't a decision about your child's piano lessons this is someone's life. Can you really not offer someone a service they need because you assume they won't go?

I heard it all. I heard how sad everyone was...."I had to move her into her apartment, I cried when I heard the news..", "I was so upset Lenae had to take me out to smoke...I couldn't stop crying", whatever. It's a bunch of bullshit. The fucking morons couldn't possibly understand the hole that her death has left in this world. I can actually feel her gone. Everyday I wake up knowing that I didn't demand enough for her, knowing that I didn't make her demand enough for herself. Save your stories of grief for someone who actually believes them. She was just another annoying client to you assholes.

And the worst of all....all she got was a cremation. She didn't have enough money for a burial, for a service. Even if I was fucking rich I wouldn't be allowed to provide that for her but you can bet that the company that was supposed to be watching out for her won't hand over any of their precious money to provide that service. Sometimes I feel like rounding up the few people I know who cared about her and making my own service. She deserves that fucking much at least.

It hits me, a lot. My birthday was a really hard day to deal with her memories. For some reason every other second a memory of her would pop up. I didn't push it back. She would be sadistic enough to torture me on my birthday like that...dead or alive :)

Simple isn't always so simple.....

I've had a lot of thoughts running through my head today. It's hard to chase down one of them and parlay it into a suitable blog entry. I'm no blogger. But I'll give it a go.

My family and I spent some time at our flooded house today. It's coming along. I can't imagine a point when we will be able to live there again but our contracter assures us that it is possible. She sure does have a lot of enthusiasm for someone who hasn't been paid yet. That makes me weary.

I've put a lot of thought into going back home. I feel like the flood was so much more than just a flood. Actually it wasn't even a loss. It was cleansing....a wake up call. I can handle everything that was lost. I thought I couldn't at first but I haven't persished yet. If I have to stay with my family much longer that may not be the case though.

I'm a simple person. My emotions are pretty complex, I'll give myself that. But I live simply. That's my goal when I get back home, to live as simply as possible. I was eager this year to grow my own garden and can like crazy. I made my own jelly last year. I picked the fruit myself and did all the canning. I won't say I didn't have a mentor in that area but I did the work. It was spectacular. Best of all was that Mike loved it. We rationed the jars of jam like crazy knowing I couldn't can anymore until this spring. I seriously almost cried when I had to throw that last jar out because it was contaminated by the flood waters. Next year I suppose.

I don't want much. If I had to make a short list it of wants it would go something like this: I want clean clothes drying on the line outside my house. This happens while Abi is playing in her tree fort and I'm laying in the grass reading a book. Mike is inside cooking. No joke. I can't cook. He loves to.

Is all that blog worthy? I don't know. Perhaps blogs are nothing more than an online diary that can be customized to the extreme. It's still refreshing.

I'll never be invited to sit at the cool table.

I have been pondering the idea of a real blog for the longest time. When I say real blog I do mean a blog in which I can say whatever I want without offending anyone. That can only mean a select few people will be able to handle reading this. And even if I have to narrow that select few down to zero...I'm okay with that. I agree with Emilie when she said this would be a breath of fresh air. I like Emilie, she doesn't expect much from me.

That's something to think about. I feel people just expect to much from each other. It's binding really. Can't we just be who we are? I feel I've spent to much time being a different person for different people. I'm to tired and to old. Or could it be that I'm just grown up now?

To really understand my position on this I'm going to have to dive into my wonderful work enviroment here. I love my work. No, really I do. Lucky for me I'm lucky to work with a select few very cool people. I won't lie here....Emilie is probably my favorite. And I don't say that lightly.

The relationships between my coworkers are maddening at times. I won't lie. Most of them are a bunch of spoiled brats skating through college on their parents money but are still somehow stuck in high school clique mode. Disgusting. Each week there are new alliances and break-ups between friends. I can't keep up. I don't care enough to. When there is not quiet enough drama someone will eventually send out a shitty email to everyone that singles out one person (this is done in a meant to be "discreet" manner which is to say it is as indescreet as possible). Now when this happens one must choose sides asap. If you don't choose sides then you will be deleted or not added as someone's friend on facebook just to show you that the clique will always prevail. Again, I stopped caring.

While I won't say that I've never been caught up in that drama I will say that I am a drama free girl these days. And that's why I like Emilie. It is, in fact, hard to believe she is a girl. Though I've not seen it personally I am pretty sure she is equipped with a vagina. One wouldn't be able to tell though because drama won't associate with that girl. But this isn't the coolest thing about her. Perhaps the most enlightning thing about her is that she can work with the drama queens peacefully without feeding into their drama. I didn't think it could be done! And so she has won my respect.

I usually am not bothered if someone doesn't like me. Actually it's a relief...then they don't expect so much from me; you know conversation etc. But I have this chip in me that makes it painful for me to know that I've hurt someone elses feelings by not liking them. I tried to remove the chip by just saying whatever I felt whenever I felt like it. That removal (which didn't work) left a lot of scars. I won't try again...but a not so public blog couldn't hurt, right?

Let me urge you to just let people be who they are; even if it makes them annoying to you. Just don't foster a relationship with them if it makes you ill to be around them. But do find a few people you can appreciate and celebrate what they bring to your life. Take that and hold onto it for all it's worth to you.

I don't know what I think about friendships. I'm a loner where my free time is concerned. I appreciate it to much to crowd it with people and obligations to those people. But I do think you should appreciate the good people. The one's who let you be you and encourage your individualality with a force that is a bitch to be reckoned with.