Auld Lang Syne

Dear December, thank you for being a pal! You made up for the the previous 11 months combined. That wasn't an easy feat I know and I hope it serves as a precursor of what 2012 will bring. 2011 wasn't my best year, it's true, but now I can look back at mistakes made, lessons learned and my uncanny ability to fall from grace more times than I care to remember, with a smile on my face, knowing that you didn't break me. I will conclude this chapter of my life and forge ahead. With all of your cliche "fresh starts," "new beginnings" and another shot at "getting it right," I gladly welcome 2012.

2011, despite your woes, there are a few highlights that I will cherish. The bonds of friendship that were strengthened, the love and support of my family that never wavered; my health, my home, a job that I love (most of the time) and a spirit that just won't quit. You have reminded me on more than one occasion what it feels like to be immersed in total happiness. 

I am fortunate.

I am appreciative. 

I am lucky. 

I am loved. 

I am blessed. 

In a way I am thankful. 2011, you challenged me like no other year. I can reflect knowing that I am better, stronger and wiser than I was on this day 12 months ago. You left me bruised and bloodied, but in hindsight it may have been exactly what I needed. Sometimes you have to go through a whole lot of nothingness in order to appreciate all those little somethings that make this life worth it in the end. Although the quantity of the bad outweighed the good, the quality of the good puts the bad to shame.  

For now I will close the book and put you on a shelf with the rest of the annual volumes. Who knows, perhaps one day I'll pull you out, dust you off and relive the harrowing moments that changed my life, but not anytime soon and definitely not today. Today is about moving on. 

To my family, you are my heart. Thank you for being exactly who you are. There aren't enough words in the world to express my love for you and the amazing life you've given to me. I like you. I loke you. I love you to bits!

To my friends, you are my soul. Each one of you have helped to enrich my life in so many ways. Call it what you will, it's sickeningly, sappy rhetoric I know. Simply put, I am in love with every last one of you. 

So, on this last day of the year I say goodbye to the last 365 days. I'll watch you grow small from my rear-view mirror, until you're gone, but never forgotten. Tomorrow I will eat begrudgingly eat my black eyed peas and press play. I've been here before, but it's not the same, not even close! I look ahead with big, eager eyes, an open mind and a heart filled with gratitude. 

May the new year bring us peace, joy, a little faith, a lot of hope and more love than we could ever imagine.

Slainte!

Things I am Certain of

I might not be someone's first choice, but I am a great choice.
I may not be rich, but I am valuable.
I don't pretend to be someone I'm not because I'm good at being me.
I might not be proud of some of the things I've done in the past, but I am proud of who I am today.
I may not be perfect but I don't need to be
Take me as I am, or watch me as I walk away...
















-Thanks to my friend Kara O. for the reminder. 

Daddy's Girl

My Dad is not known for his Internet prowess. He send me a birthday greeting on Facebook that he posted as his own status. Good thing he is my "friend" or I might never have seen it. No matter how old I get, it is always good to know that I will always be his little girl. This message made me cry like a big baby, to which he said, "You are a big baby, but I love you anyways. 


Just like a Martin, tough on the outside, all soft and squishy on the inside. I am blessed!


Sept 26 is the birthday of my oldest daughter - old-what's her name - I of course know her name- it's Clem - you will know her as Kara. Clem (Kara) is real close to be the best thing that ever happened to me - bright, funny, hard working, giving, beautiful, playful,- an almost perfect person and daughter in every way. She has been the light of my life and at times a royal pain in my arse (ass for you Redskin fans) - She has never been dull and I love her dearly. She just ran 4 miles at her advanced age - Attaboy Girl!
Happy Birthday Baby
Dad

Getting Old Ain't Bad. Getting Old, That's Earned.

My birthday is in four days, a time to wave goodbye to 365 days past and start anew. It's like a personal "New Year's Day" celebration and the beginning of a another year to get it right. I've got the memories, but I won't look back. Instead I will forge ahead to the next chapter of my life with wide, open eyes and a big happy heart waiting to be filled with what is to come. I welcome the possibilities, the joy, the laughs, the tears, the ups, the downs, the faults, the fears, the good and the bad. I want it all.

In the grand scheme of things, I am blessed. Blessed I tell ya! It isn't always easy being me but I wouldn't change me for the world. I'm making it down my own path exactly as planned. Always a work in progress, but I'm a girl of few regrets and have so very much to be thankful for. Mine is not a perfect life, but good one nonetheless. I've got love and peace and the best family and friends anyone could hope for, my wishes and wants are few and far between.

On September 26th, I will forgive what needs to be forgiven and forget what needs to be forgotten. Simple as that, I can leave it all behind and focus on the what's ahead. That is my gift to myself.

So to those in my life who have made the last year so special, I thank you, I love you and look forward to this year being even better!

And to those who are already throwing out the "old" jokes, bring it, 'cause I know I still look good! ;)


"Hell, I've always been old. You know what though, I don't mind. I mean if my muscles ache, it's because I've used 'em. It's hard for me to walk up them steps now, its because I walked up 'em every night to lay next to a man who loved me. I got a few wrinkles here and there, but I've laid under thousands of skies with sunny days. I look and feel this way, well because I drank and I smoked. I lived and I loved, danced, sang, sweat and screwed my way thorough a pretty damn good life if you ask me. Getting old ain't bad. Getting old, that's earned."  
-Maggie McGlone "The Guardian"

Anger Management

Growing up I was always known as the calm one, my sister on the other hand was the hot head. I was the pillar that people leaned on and expected to hold it all together whenever there was a crisis. I was Switzerland. I rarely took sides or placed blame. I processed things logically and was a voice of reason. I was always cool and collected, almost laid back to a fault, just drinking it all in without judgement.

My sister's reactions to the very same things were always much different, almost comical. She can fly off the handle at the drop of a dime and cause a whirlwind of drama in seconds flat. She is the eye of the storm that takes out everything in her path. She is in no way a horrible person but when triggered can say some of the most heinous things imaginable. I learned quickly not to take any of it personally, it is just her way of dealing with stressful events. Who am I to say that it's wrong, it's just her way. I've come to understand it and accept it in the name of sibling love.

She was always the fighter in the family and I was the lover. I could impartially work out the difficulties and be the peace to her wartime. Push me to my limit, I can take it every time...well almost every time. I have a great ability to internalize stress. I'm like a great dam inside capable of holding back even the roughest of waters. But on occasion, even my so-called impermeable concrete shell fails for one reason or another and I find myself overwhelmed with anger and spite.

There is no rhyme or reason to what sets me off. It could be a deliberate act of sabotage by an outside influence, inadequate emotional maintenance on my part or simply because I've exceeded my capacity to hold it all back. Everyone has their triggers and individual boiling points. It's not something that I am proud of and I take no pleasure losing control, but sometimes even the mightiest fall.

When the breaking point comes there is no stopping the rage. It's an uncontrollable frenzy of hostility. It shocks me to know that I am capable of such contempt and disrespect. It's only when I become so frustrated with a situation that I resort to this kind of behavior. It is a point when I can no longer rationally "do the right thing." Usually that is all it takes, a few minutes of mayhem and it's out of my system for good. My reserves have been emptied and I'm free.

I never thought of myself as someone to hold a grudge or allow myself to become so consumed with negativity that it left me all black and sullen inside. It's not who I am, yet it is something that I've let become a part of me lately. I've allowed it to change my psyche and crush my spirit.

That's unacceptable and I'm moving on. I've surrendered and I've got to let you go. As much as I may love the idea of you, I love myself more.

Thank you Siddharta for reminding me that it really is that easy to forget.

"Anger will never disappear so long as thoughts of resentment are cherished in the mind. Anger will disappear just as soon as thoughts of resentment are forgotten."

Like a perfect little sunflower, you were meant to be enjoyed while it lasted.

Unlimited Text Messaging

Since October 12, 2010 I have made and received over 12,000 text messages.

That is roughly 1200 texts a month, an average of 40 texts a day, approximately 878,000 individual words and if I were to print them all up on 8 1/2 x 11 standard "letter sized" paper,  it would equate to 1119 pages. That's longer than most novels!

That seems crazy, right?!

Exactly just what did I have to say and what was being said in return? The conversations paint a picture of anything and everything. What makes this 21st century form of communication so much more exceptional is the fact that those 12,000 messages floating through cyberspace were between me and just one other person.

Just you and me living life on a Sim Card.

Is it the making of a modern day "Notebook" or a great Fairy Tale? Who knows, although there was once upon a time when starry-eyed little heartfelt messages were being sent and received, but those chapters have since turned the page.

It's interesting to go back and read, through 10 months of the past, to actually re-watch your life play out on a little screen. You remember things that got pushed aside to make way for current thoughts. A real time visitation of memories made. You see the words and are transported briefly to the time when they were originally said. You remember where you were and exactly what you were feeling the first time you read them.

Time passes, but the consciousness of it all remains.

For a moment you allow yourself to relive where the friendship began, where things took a romantic turn, the ultimate break down in communication, the split, the anger, the hurt, the disappointment, the attempt at recovery and back to starting anew. Your life comes full circle in 140 characters or less.

I See Dead People

Sometimes I talk to dead people. That's crazy, right? Before you judge me, let me explain. While I'm not an exceptionally religious person, as in I have not darkened the doors of a church in years, I do believe in God and heaven. I also choose to believe that when people die their souls live on and guide us from above.

Spirituality was something that I never really understood until David came along. It was only after he was gone that I began to view death in a different light. If you have read any of my previous posts involving feathers then you know that David was a dear friend of mine who passed away in October of 2005. His death consumed me, in fact it still does to this day but for more diverse reasons.

Throughout his funeral I was inconsolable. During the service, a small, white feather landed on the sleeve of my friend Trish who was seated next to me. Without thinking she plucked it off and handed it to me. She whispered for me to hold onto it and focus, somehow knowing that the distraction would help get me through. It worked. I walked out of the funeral home with it still firmly gripped in my hand.

For reasons unknown to me then, I felt compelled to keep that feather. I put it in my wallet to protect it and started my new life without David in it.

The next day I was the opening manager at the Pottery Barn where David and I had worked. It was quiet as I went through my morning routine of preparing the store for business. My associates had yet to arrive, so it was just me and my thoughts. I paused in the Design Studio where I had last seen his smile to say "Hello." And right there, on the verge of falling to pieces, I saw it...another feather. David had found a way to say hello back to me in a way that I could understand.

That was the day that I learned to accept the unexpected. Even though I found it impossible to comprehend, I opened my mind and heart to the fact that certain things defied explanation. All it took was a leap of faith on my part and I'd know that even in death, David would be with me always.

In the nearly six years since his passing, he still finds a way to communicate with me. I have found feathers of all shapes and sizes in the most surprising places. I always pause after picking them up and look into the sky and say "Hello" right back to my friend. The feathers serve as a reminder that with hope, anything is possible, even in the most impossible of circumstances. Where there is a will, there is a way.

In my line of work, I see people die right before my eyes. It is the harsh reality of working in the Emergency Department and unfortunately, it comes with the job. No matter how I try to man up and accept it, death still haunts me. Ironically, not only did I work in an environment where David was very much alive, I now work in the same place where he died. I was put there for a reason and embrace it for what it's worth. I help people in sickness and pray for those departed.

When someone dies in the ER, my emotions automatically go back to the Thursday afternoon in late October, 2005 when I first heard the news that David was gone. It is a natural reaction to put myself into the shoes of the family and friends who will mourn their own losses. Being in a room with a lifeless body is surreal, it's just not something that you get used to. We're not supposed to unless perhaps your profession is that of a funeral director or pathologist.

I always pause to say "Goodbye," remind them that they we're loved and the love they gave love in return was so appreciated. Their life touched the lives of others and they will be dearly missed, but it's not over. It's never over unless you make that choice. I hope that their loved ones find their own form of feathers in which to comfort and communicate.

In life it's all about the heart, we follow it and live by the emotions it generates. The soul is immortal, it survives death and lives on in spirit and in my world through feathers. That's crazy, right? Maybe...but to me it makes perfect sense.

Emotional Rescue

Have you ever emotionally fought so hard for something that it left you physically disabled? You exhaust your energy by trying to crack the core of someone, because you know behind that hardened facade is something so promising and good; that every amount of effort put forth was worth the toll it took to get there.

Sometimes you fight so hard that you end up exposing too much of your own self. The assault is so intense that you don't even realize the damage done until you look down and see your own flesh falling off the bone. There you are left standing naked and vulnerable, knowing despite your best intentions to unveil the soul of someone else, your own has been unmasked in the process.

It's frightening and cathartic all at once.

It's hard to be the hero when your own superpowers are filled with defects. It's daunting to reveal that underneath it all you are but a mere mortal, with nothing more than a loud mouth, a lot of thoughts and a big, sloppy heart.

So, what are you really afraid of? What others will think of you now or what you see in yourself? And what do you do now?

I don't want a foxy little face to tell me lovely little lies, so why do I expect you to be on the receiving end of mine? It's time to get pretty on the inside. Face the fears and forge ahead. We are bred to make mistakes, that's a given. But, it's all in how we go about recovering from them that makes the true difference. Once we are no longer afraid of those mistakes, only then will we begin to make fewer of them.

Once the truth comes out and you look up to see that your friends, your real friends, not just the ones who claim to be, are still there, accepting all of your imperfections without judgement is liberating.

You come to the realization that the exact same flaws that we see in others are in fact our own. It's strangely familiar and is the very reason behind why you recognized them in the first place. It forces us to make a choice, throw in the towel or be a better person, not only to those you care about, but to your own self.

Once you have broken down the boundaries and completely dropped your guard, everything becomes limitless and you learn to love. Not that ridiculous fairy tale love that plays out on big movie screens and not that superficial sickeningly sweet shit. We're talking hard, true, tough, messy, unfinished, imperfect, rudimentary, honest love. The kind that leaves you bloodied and bruised, but so worth the struggle it took to get there.

A wise consort recently said to me "You put other feelings aside and be a friend first. It's not gonna be a walk in the park, but anything is possible if you care about the person; that's love right there."

Yep, truth. That's love right there.

Cue the Gosling

"Well, that's what we do, we fight! You tell me when I'm being an arrogant son of a bitch and I tell you when you're being a pain in the ass, which you are, 99% of the time. I'm not afraid to hurt your feelings. They have like a two second rebound rate and you're back doing the next pain in the ass thing."

"So, it's not gonna be easy, it's gonna be real hard. And we're gonna have to work on this every day, but I want to do that, because I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me every day. Will you do something for me? Please? Will you picture your life for me? 30 years from now, 40 years from now, what's it look like? If it's with that guy, go! Go! I lost you once, I think I could do it again, if I thought that's what you really wanted. But don't you take the easy way out."

"Would you stop thinking about what everyone wants? Stop thinking about what I want, what he wants, what your parents want. What do you want? What do you want?"

"What...do...you...want? What do you want?"

Cocksure

I'm a bit of a handful, it's true. I'm loud and selfish and stubborn and quirky and cocky and outspoken and completely inappropriate at times. I make mistakes every day. Sometimes I learn from them, sometimes I don't. My expectations are high, but so is my tolerance. If you accept me for me, I will accept you for you, but there is a catch...you have to meet me halfway. I can't be expected to do all the work, because I will eventually tire.

I'm an all American rebel, tougher on the inside than I look on the outside. I can take whatever you dish out and will always give it back in return. I am cynical and sarcastic and jaded and bitter and have been burned more times than I have intentionally set the fire. You have to earn my trust and I expect your total honesty. If you want to be a part of my life, you have to follow through with every word you say. I won't hang on your empty promises.

I am big hearted and kind, but never misjudge that for weakness. Loving is easy, I will give you my whole heart. As a friend it is my job to love you, but I don't always have to like you. Just like trust, you have to earn my "like" if you want it in return. Show me the respect that I deserve and I'll repay it tenfold.

I am brilliant and beautiful and hilarious and imperfect and true. I spin out of control and my emotions often shoot off in all directions like a loose cannon. I'm head-strong and feisty and completely full of myself. I can be hard to handle and downright ugly at times. Some days I'm the blue pill, others the red.   I know that my personality is not for everyone and that's ok. "You take the blue pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes."

I am a walking contradiction. I'm overly confident and independent yet reek of insecurity. I will choke you out just as soon as I'd breath life back into your soul. Take me as I am or move along. If you can't handle me at my worst then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best!

I will give more than I receive. I don't expect the same in return, all I ask is for your appreciation and a little recognition. Putting a smile on someone's face for no reason at all is one of my greatest joys. It's the little things in life, the things that others might take for granted or not even realize are a big deal that matter most to me.

I'm not sure of anything and my thoughts change erratically from one moment to the next. What you construe as "crazy" might be my normal. Get over yourself, we've all been there. You will often find me standing right on the edge, walking a fine line between holding it all together and crashing hard. It's the rush, the adrenaline that keeps me going and reminds me to breathe. And if you are coming with me, I will push you to your breaking point and beyond.

I'm loyal to a fault. I'm transparent. I'm pessimistically optimistic. I'm in your face. I'm a nuisance. I would rather die living for the things I believe in than to die without ever taking the chance. I will walk until I'm able to run. I will stumble and I will fall. I will get up and do it again. My wounds will always heal. I am unbreakable and resilient.

I will argue with you because I care. I will try my damnedest to understand you, but you have to try to understand me too. Our personalities will differ, that is what makes us unique. It's our own individual personalities that attracted us to each other to begin with. What do you want to contribute? What will you bring to the table? What will you allow me to understand? Can you to sympathize with my needs? What will you allow to exist? What are you willing to do in the name of friendship?

Born Lucky

Are some people born luckier than others? Is there an algorithm that fate sets long before one's first steps are taken that determines just how fortunate that individual's life will be? Does karma really play a part in destiny? If so, then I must have been a really bad person in a past life, reincarnated in this one to pay for my antecedent transgressions.

Seriously, it's comical how ridiculously unlucky I am. In this particular life, I've fallen from grace too many times to count, but you know what? I get back up and I do it again every day hoping that eventually I will get it right.

Don't get me wrong, I have had a lot of good and when weighed out, it certainly counterbalances all the bad. I have a family who loves me unconditionally, who are healthy and happy; who would without question, walk to the end of the earth and back for me. I have made more friends than I have lost. Ones that I know will stick with me, not only through the sweetness, but straight through to the bitter end. I'm by no means rich, but am content in my possessions.

I have literally partied with Rock Stars and interviewed NASCAR drivers. I have traveled the earth and been immersed in cultures that many people only dream of. I was blessed with open minded parents who allowed me to see and experience the world through my own eyes. I have jumped from airplanes, climbed peaks and floated in the Caribbean seas. I changed careers midlife, went back to school and kicked it's ass. I was the first Paramedic student at my college to receive a full scholarship based on academic achievement. I have loved and felt love in return.

Not bad for a little girl from a quiet coastal Texas town. Truth be told, if I were to die tomorrow, I'd look back with little regret, for I have truly lived. Sure there are a few things that I have yet to do in this life, which is precisely the reason why I have no immediate plans of leaving this earth any time soon. I refuse to go down based solely on a little bad luck. Nope, you might be a temporary setback, but you're only an obstacle that I will always find a way to overcome.

When my 19 year old cat was dying from kidney failure earlier this year, I had to make the hard decision to end his misery and have him put to sleep. When I arrived for my appointment, I was told that the Doctor was across town dealing with a sick foal and was told that I had to reschedule his euthanasia for later that day. What?! How cruel and unusual is that?

On Christmas Day 2010,  as I drove across the state of Virginia to see my family on the biggest holiday of the year, I ran over something on the highway that shredded my rear tire at 65 MPH, leaving me stranded on an overpass for hours until help arrived.

In 2008 I had a pretty common surgical procedure that was botched terribly, which resulted in two additional surgeries to put me back together again. I was out of work for three months recovery time.

On October 20, 2005, I lost my fourth friend within a two year period to suicide.

I could go on and on, reciting stories that you wouldn't believe unless you actually knew me and witnessed it first hand, but I think you get the gist of it.

I have been on the brink of throwing in the towel on more than one occasion. I've wanted to curl up and just wither away, because what good is life if it isn't what you envisioned it to be? I'll tell you what it's good for...everything. All the meticulous planning and guidance never prepares you to roll with the punches and live. Really live.

Years ago for fun, two friends and I went to see one of those roadside "fortune tellers." She told them just what the future held for each of them and they left content in knowing that they would face no real hardships in the path set before them. When my turn came, I was told that she, the "psychic," sensed an unlucky aura that "surrounded my soul," a black cloud if you will and for just $500 she had the power to remove it. I laughed the notion of it and promptly walked out. Looking back over my life, I sometimes wonder if that might have been a small price to pay for absolution, but then I come to my senses and laugh about it all over again.

No one but yourself has the power to change your own luck, whether it be through the power of thought or spiritual beliefs or even a lucky charm of some sort. In my case, I am a combination of all three. I think positively, try to do all the right things and as crazy as it seems, I corresponde spiritually with my deceased friend David, who I lost in 2005, through our own form of communication. When I am feeling down or particularly sad or stressed out, he sends me a random feather that I stumble upon in the strangest of places. In the years since his death I have found over 200 of them and keep them safely locked away in a special shadow box to remind me that there are angels that look down on us from above and keep us safe and honest.

Now that lucky charm thing, well that is different for everyone. Some dangle a rabbit's foot from their keychains. Some carry a lucky penny in their pocket. We break wishbones at Thanksgiving, hoping to pull the side that counts, the bigger piece where wishes are often granted. We search for four-leafed clovers in fields of shamrocks and have "lucky" articles of clothing that we where when we want to win the big game.

My lucky charm was a well thought out plan, something that I contemplated for years until I was 100% sure of exactly what it should be and where it should be in my life. A little over a week ago, I chose to have a small horseshoe tattooed on the outside of my left wrist. I drew out the exact placement of where on my body I thought it would bring me the most luck. Points facing up so that none of the so-called luck would drain out.

I mustered up my courage, found a reputable artist that came highly recommended from a friend, bit the bullet and finally had it done. It was perfect, exactly what I wanted. A tiny little "U" shape with six nail holes, one for each member of my immediate family. I babied it and cared for it exactly as I was told and for the first couple of days it began to heal up nicely.

On the third day I noticed that it was beginning to come off. Not just the normal peeling and scabbing that a tattoo generally goes through. This little sucker was actually coming off in chucks, as if the bad aura of my luck was rejecting any of the good that I was trying to create!

By days four and five it began to look as if it had been drawn on with a magic marker that had gotten wet and was smearing and fading quickly. And by today, I can only see visible red scars in certain places where the black ink once was. My body is literally ridding itself of what it sees as an intruder.

How ironic is that? My luck is so defective that a purposely permanent piece of kismet is quickly sloughing off my own skin!

It's typical really.

Good things rarely happen on the first try, that is just how life goes for me. So right now half a horseshoe is better than none at all. I'll have it reworked in the next week or so, then lookout! With luck on my side, there may be no stopping me from anything that I set my mind to!

Sometimes a Little Reminder is All it Takes

"This is your life.
Do what you love and do it often.
If you don't like something, change it.
If you don't like your job, quit.
If you don't have enough time, stop watching TV.
If you are looking for the love of your life, stop; they will be waiting for you when you start doing the things you love.
Stop over analyzing, life is simple.
All emotions are beautiful.
When you eat, appreciate every last bite.
Open your mind, arms and heart to new things and people, we are united in our differences.
Ask the next person you see what their passion is and share your inspiring dream with them.
Travel often; getting lost will help you find yourself.
Some opportunities only come once, seize them.
Life is about the people you meet and the things you create with them, so go out and start creating.
Live your dream and share your passion.
Life is short."

-Author Unknown

Say What You Need to Say

Damn you John Mayer and your catchy pop ballads! Seriously, who do you think you are? You've got life all figured out in three minutes and 50 seconds, don't you?! As infuritaing as it seems to follow the advice of a top-40 radio song, I can't help but wonder if he isn't on to something here. Is it really as simple as just saying what you need to say?

Let's analyze, shall we.

In the song, Mayer repeats the line, "say what you need to say" about 298 times. Repetition is a good way to commit something to memory, so thank you for that.

Talking. It is something that we do naturally on a day to day basis. We talk to friends, family, pets, ourselves, even total strangers for hours on end during the course of a 24 hour span. We talk they listen, then they talk and we listen...or do we really?

On paper, I am a girl of many words. I can somehow take the time to process everything that needs to come out and effectively communicate my point, but when it comes to the art of fine, constructive conversation, the words and thoughts floating through my mind sometimes get lost on their way to my mouth. It is as if my IQ level drops 60 points and all I am left with is a blank stare and lips so numb they find it hard to even form the simplest of sounds.

When I do manage to muster up something, it often comes out sounding like like mental vomit. It's like buyer's remorse. I impulsively shoot off at the mouth then spend all future moments regretting everything that I said to begin with. Open mouth, insert foot, repeat, it is a ridiculous vicious cycle. Let's not forget  that I'm also a giant, sucky cry baby. So you can only imagine what happens next.

It is frustrating not to be able to say what I really need to say at the exact moment that it needs to be said. These late night musings are generally products of something that I have experienced during my day and only after hours of lying awake replaying said verbal disaster over and over again am I able to figure it all out.

"It's better to say too much then never say what you need to say again."

Is it really? I'm not so sure, I mean, I'm pretty good at saying way too much to try to get my point across, doesn't seem to help my cause. Perhaps it is more about timing. I should block out some daily time, preferably under four minutes, to say what I need to say instead of holding it all in waiting for my tragic Rock Operas to make their stunning debuts. You would have thought that I'd have learned a lesson or two by now, as they almost always open to bad reviews.

Ugh, what is the deal? Where is the translation getting lost? Seriously, The Who called, they want "Tommy" back!

Life in a Pop song makes it all look so easy, but it ain't got shit on a good heartbreaker of a Country tune. So John Mayer, you go on and "say what you need to say!" In the meantime, I'll stick with what I know. Just give me a little fire and gasoline and watch me burn like there is no tomorrow.

Inside the Actors Studio with James Lipton and Me

I love watching "Inside The Actors Studio" with James Lipton, it's a serious guilty pleasure. I look most forward to the part when he pulls out those index cards of his and asks the actor who he is interviewing those famous "ten questions."

The questionnaire concept was originated by French talk show host, Bernard Pivot, who was inspired by the personality driven Proust Questionnaire. For 26 years, Pivot submitted his own adapted version of the questionnaire to his guests at the end of each of his broadcasts.

Not only am I curious to hear what each actor's favorite curse word is, I secretly like to pretend that I'm the one up there on stage answering the questions in front of a huge auditorium of students.

Does everyone think that way or am I just that self absorbed?

Meh, who cares really. All I know is that I've been practicing my answers just in case I get that call one day.

What is you favorite word? Maritime. I'm not nautical or navigationally sound at all, so there is absolutely no reason for this other than I like the way it sounds.
What is you least favorite word? Chillax and all variations of it. It is a made up word combining the terms "chill out and "relax"and it's awful. Really awful! I want to kick people directly in their teeth when they use it in a sentence.
Me: "What did you do last night?"
Annoying word user: "Nothing much, just stayed home and did a little chillaxin' on the couch"
Me: "That word is awful, please don't say it again or I'll kick you in your teeth!"
Annoying word user: "Whoa, chillllaaaax!"
What turns you on? Honesty. I would much rather someone hurt me with truth than be lied to in an attempt to spare my feelings.
What turns you off? Disappointment. There is no worse feeling than to be let down by someone or something that you once had faith in.
What sound do you love? Laughter. Big, loud, legitimate, crazy laughter.
What sound do you hate? The Turbo Temp thermometers at work that obnoxiously start to beep when they are off their rechargeable cradles for too long.
What is your favorite curse word? Fuck! It's the ultimate in curse words. It can be used in all situations, good or bad. For example, "Would you like to leave work two hours early tonight?" Fuck yeah! or "Can you stay two hours late at work tonight?" Fuck no!
What profession other than yours would you like to attempt? Music Supervisor for TV or movie soundtracks.
What profession would you not like to do? Toss up between Janitor at a Porn Theater or Animal Masturbator. Both are legit jobs and both are ones that I would not want!
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates? "What took you so long to get here?"

It's Complicated

Remember when we laughed for no reason at all and spoke to each other like two people who truly cared? Remember when there was a time that you'd "swim across the ocean" for me or that I'd give you the chance to catch me when I spiraled down into a free fall?

We were friends then. All those things we did and said were all based on the foundation of friendship.

How did we forget how to communicate? We're adults, we know how to use our words, yet somehow we find it hard to really know what to say, when to say it and how to ask for what we really need?

When did it all become so damn complicated?

Why do we lie to one another and to ourselves? Because the truth about the truth is that it fucking hurts! Things don't end with the truth, it's just where you begin again with a whole new set of questions and that's not for the faint of heart. Life is already hard without the extra added bullshit that we bring on ourselves, why spend precious time caught up in deception? That time would be better spent in search of the self-destruct button!

The truth is just as hard as living a lie. But the truth is reality, it's validity, it's consistency, it's fidelity, it's integrity, it's sincerity. The truth pledges your allegiance to another person. The truth is faith and devotion. It's loyal and steadfast. It says to someone, I care enough about you to be honest, even if it hurts like hell. That pain that you are feeling right now, proves just how much I care.

This thing where we try to keep our distance and pretend not to care about each other is bullshit. We pick and choose who we want to keep close and once we've chosen those people we tend to stick by them. No matter how much we hurt them and they us. Those are the people that are still with us at the end of the day, they are the ones worth keeping. And sure, sometimes close can be too close. But sometimes, that invasion of personal space is exactly what we need.

Deep down we'd love to believe that we are hard and impenetrable. Our hearts can't break if we don't open them up to begin with, right? We're hardcore like that. But being hardcore isn't just about being tough, it's about acceptance. Sometimes you have to give yourself permission to not be so hard every once in a while. You don't have to be callous every minute of every day. It's ok to let down your guard. In fact, there are moments when it's the best thing you can possibly do, as long as you choose your moments wisely.

We're scared, but sometimes it's good to be scared. It means we still have something to lose. We want clarity, but the thing about clarity is that it goes away and we simply revert back into cowards. Cowards who lose the ability to tell people how they really feel. We try to practice the art of forgiving and forgetting. While it is good advice in theory, it's not very practical. When someone hurts us, we want to hurt them back. When someone wrongs us, we want to be right. Without forgiveness, scores never settle. Old wounds never heal. We want to wipe the slate clean, but can we really? We are left hoping that someday we'll just be lucky enough to forget.

We went for a quick fix by ignoring the past that brought us here and suppressing future complications that might arise. Despite the fact that I'm swallowing Antabuse by the handful, you're still intoxicating. I'd like to run. I'd like to escape you. I'd like to forget you, but I can't. You're in my blood. So please don't chase me anymore unless your real intent is to catch me.

I've had many choices to make in my years and sometimes I chose wrong. Opportunities and chances we're missed along the way. Take all the time you need because you have choices to make and everything between us falls firmly on those choices. However, we do not get unlimited chances to have what we want out of life. Sometimes you have to stop, look around and breath it all in. Life is fleeting, this is it. It may all be gone tomorrow.

After we clear our heads and all the dust settles, know that we're friends, real friends. And that means, no matter how long it takes, when you finally do decide to look back, I'll still be here.

Surprise me just once and find a way to take my breath away.

Come On Get Happy

If someone were to randomly stumble across my blog looking for "happiness" they might be a bit confused by the actual content. I mean, here is a girl advertising that she is in hot pursuit of the happiness, but on the surface it sure doesn't look like she is having much success finding it.

Just where is all this so-called happiness? I assure you it's there, underneath it all.

Happiness is a no brainer. When your heart is filled with glee everything is radiant. Not a whole lot of thought goes into feeling happy. Rarely do we ever question why, nor do we over analyze the reason for our euphoria. We just live our cheery little lives with a peaceful heart and a big dumb smile on our face.

Sorrow, well that is one that we really have to pay attention to. Sometimes we have to make sure that horse is really dead before we can move on. We are wired to deal with affliction, in a way I think we secretly love it. Without it we wouldn't feel real. Why do we keep torturing ourselves with painful stimuli? Because it feels so good when we stop.

As the saying goes, "Ignorance is bliss." What you don't know can't hurt you and not knowing something is often more convenient than actually knowing it. We try not to delve any deeper than we have to in fear of what lies beneath. We are fooled into thinking that we have found the bliss, so we float awkwardly on the surface with that big dumb smile on our face.

You can only tread superficially for so long, eventually you have to make the decision to swim to shore or face the fears and submerge yourself completely. It's paralyzing because once we go under we begin to anticipate failure, we shudder over possible rejection and are terrified of making a decision, because what if we're wrong? What if we make a mistake that can't be undone?

We heed the warnings but still yearn to see it for ourselves. We have to make our own messes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to wash our own hands clean, only then can we fully appreciate that knowing is better than wondering, standing is better than falling and even the biggest failure is most certainly better than never trying at all.

So we weather through the storm and emerge safely on the other side, knowing that real happiness is found in the courage to get back up and do it all over again. Appreciate the small victories and the struggle it takes to simply be human. Welcome the familiar and be thankful for the things we'll never know. Recognize what you have for what it is and be grateful.

Learn to Fly

I've been harboring a lot of negativity as of late and today was reminded by someone special that despite all of the hardship and broken feelings, with a little encouragement we can still learn to fly.


Sometimes we quietly wait, hoping that someone comes along to help us through our struggles but occasionally we only have ourselves rely on. The survival instinct kicks in and we find the courage to be our own savior.


We strap in, buckle down and take flight, hoping that with our own wings and a prayer we have the strength to soar across the skies on a solo mission. 


I foolishly allowed myself to believe that it took someone else's power to thrust me into the atmosphere, but now realize that all that time, I was actually being grounded. How many apologies can I accept before they genuinely sound sincere? Your feelings, if true, should have built me up, not destroyed me in the process. 


I'm not like all of the other girls, I am the exception to any of your rules. You just didn't see that so clearly and tried to change me to fit your mold. It turns out that I was nothing more than an intriguing piece of uncharted territory that you set out to conquer.


You looked so fine in your beautiful little package, wrapped up in charming intentions and empty promises. Yeah, it enticed me into thinking that the contents of the gift were just as pretty on the inside, so I faltered. I gave into something knowing the the odds were already stacked against me. Like those who came before me, I was flattered by your fascination with me. You caught me at the exact moment that I needed an object to crave.


I let you in under false pretenses, an understanding that you were someone whose personality I was drawn to, someone who was fun and inviting. I discovered after diving in that it all was a bit of a mirage. A delicious hallucination. 


It may seem that I'm placing the blame on you, but it's really not your fault. You are who you are and I am who I am. If we were truly meant to be, neither one of us would have required any emotional or physical remodeling. If we both weren't so stubborn, perhaps we would have recognized that from the start or at the very least worked with what we had.


On paper it looked so good. You passionately unavailable, me thrillingly fucked up. Meh, what can you do? Lesson learned and we move along, but you've got to let me go. You can't have more than you deserve. It's not fair to put me in the position of trying to figure you out. I need you to be both beautiful and true. Your words were so damn pretty and I was drawn in like a moth to a flame again and again, but true words often aren't pretty at all and pretty words aren't always true. 


I needed something to help me burn out bright and you were that complication. Now I learn to fly.

Feathered

You know that I saw you today, I heard you say hello in our own celestial form of communication and today, like every day, I was grateful.

You put a smile on my face, a lump in my throat and filled my heart with love with one single feather.

Even in death, you still manage to give me the strength to straighten up and fly right when my own quills are a little worse for wear.

I still miss you all the time.

A Piece of Cake

Sometimes the best times are spent doing close to nothing at all. A little red wine, video games and good conversation.

The thing that I love about "good" conversation is that it isn't always about the splendid, easy things in life. Sometimes the good comes from drinking Merlot out of a coffee cup. Sometimes the good is finishing in last place every time at a PlayStation game. And sometimes the good is all about getting out a little of the bad without discrimination.

That's seriously the good stuff.

All the rest is the icing, the sweet, luscious glaze that most people mistake for the good; but what good is a sugar coating if the cake has no substance, right? As someone who loves to bake, I know first and foremost that it's all about the cake! The best icing in the world can only help but so much, yep it's all about the cake!

Every relationship starts with all the proper ingredients but it's all in how they are mixed that matters most. Recipes are meticulous for a reason, try to fuse them together in the wrong order and you've got a cake that is nothing but flavorless, unfulfilling shit.

Rarely can you perfect a new recipe right off the bat, it takes some practice to do it actual justice. There are times when it isn't even worth the trouble, it tastes bad, it is always going to taste bad, so you dump it in the trash and move on. Other times you recognize that it's just a little off, but with some tweaking it could be super delicious.

What would they be if you didn't even try? Sometimes you just have to try.

As someone who has a long standing relationship with the idiom "cut bait and run," for reasons other than the fact that I hate to fish, I have a full appreciation in knowing that it's almost always easier to bail rather than to put forth an effort and that life experiences described as being a "piece of cake" really shouldn't be defined as "a very easy task." Unless you're being served a piece of cake and your sole responsibility is to eat it, there is nothing effortless when it comes to making a gratifying cake.

Who really cares what it looks like as long as you've infused it with your true heart and soul. It's not all about the pretty and masking the imperfections with a nondescript fondant finish. It's ok if it's ugly as hell, the undertaking will be worth it in the end as long as it tastes good.

Heart Shaped World

Of the tears that we cry for others, do you selfishly wonder how many you get in return?

It's not as if I wish hurt and sorrow on someone else, just having the knowledge that I meant enough to someone to shed a tear over is all I really need to know. It's so egotistical to actually read that in print, but seriously, could you turn the tables just one time and let me see you cry just a little for me?

You're always so stoic and unfaltering, would it kill you to show some true emotion, any emotion? You have a gorgeous mind and a divine soul, use them to their full potential. Skimming the surface of life only gets you so far and leaves a void of emptiness. Trust me on this one, I know.

I'm not foolish enough to think that we live in a flawless, heart shaped world, but what I do know about life is that everything that matters comes straight from the heart. Friendship, love, joy and pain...right there from the ticker! We were put on this earth to find people that we can connect with. They are the ones that we want to shower with refections of ourselves. Even the little things that we do to put a simple smile onto the face of someone we care about brings us joy in return and leaves us happily fulfilled.

In a perfect world, it would cycle like that continuously until the end of our days, nothing but happiness and joy, but that isn't how this so-called life of ours works. Hearts occasionally hurt for good reason. It allows us to appreciate the actual good that surrounds us that much more. It changes who we are for the better because we are inspired to do better and be better in hopes to avoid the crushing blow of heartache.

It is a sucking chest wound of a bitch to do something for someone when the certain level of appreciation you were expecting in return doesn't quite play out the way you had envisioned it. Precordial thump me the next time why don't you? The success rate is just as poor, but maybe, just maybe you will send my heart back into a normal rhythm instead of kicking a hole right through the center.

You see, it is in my nature to comfort and your gratitude is what I need to make me feel complete. Show me in return that I've done something that mattered. I need to you to need me in your life. That is what friendship is all about, not just wanting, but needing.

There are tons of people that I want in my life, but only a handful of those that I really need. They are the ones that inspire me to be a finer person. The ones that catch me when I fall. The ones that listen without judgement and wipe my tears with kindness. They are the ones that I can't live without.

We will no doubt act crazy and stupid and make regrettable mistakes along the way, but you know what, it's cool, this ain't about perfection. It's about the reciprocity of true friendship. You just gotta have a little faith, a trusting soul, an open mind, a receptive heart and sometimes an occasional tear.

I don't play the part of the mercenary often, I just want what is mine. I gave and now I'm wanting something in return. Could you cry just a little for me?

You Only Get What You Give.

Once there was a girl who packed up her whole life to move to the big city. She stumbled and fell right out of the chute; but she brushed herself off, held her head high and carried on. She met new people along the way, some that became structural parts of her life, while others stayed for just a while.

She pledged to keep in close contact with the good friends that she had left behind, they were the forever kind, the ones no matter the distance would always be there or so she thought. She took advantage of that way of thinking and forged ahead with her new, exciting life.

Her exciting, crazy, out of control, superficial kind of life. Oh there was fun to be had, but it came with a price and she neglected the bill until it was long past due.

Days turned to weeks and weeks to years, the fun continued; it was a party almost every day of the week. The girl was having the time of her life, it filled a selfish, shallow void that real relationships could not. No thinking, no feeling, no responsibility, no commitments, no pressure, no emotion.

Just emptiness.

Like all things, the party eventually came to end and it was time to carry on with the life she once knew, but it was a little too little too late. All of those "forever" friends that she pushed to the wayside and lied to through the years, on her quest for the frivolous; the ones that she thought would always be there when she finally came calling, we're gone. She had killed them all off one by one without even knowing it.

When they needed her, she hadn't been there and when her time came, they re-payed her by giving her back exactly what she had given.

Mistakes made, lessons learned and tons of soul searching. The girl vowed to be a better person and she is to this very day. Instead of pushing the tough stuff aside in exchange for a pretty, cosmetic existence, she learned to stay put and fight hard for the things that matter most in this life.

Honesty, truth, respect, reliability, consistency, communication, family, friendship, love.

She gives what she hopes and expects to get in return. While it doesn't always happen that way, she still gives without fault, because there was a time, not too long ago, that she wasn't able to "get" all of the good that she'd been given.

She accepted that life sometimes begins when the fun ends.

All That Shimmers

It is a terribly crushing feeling when something you believed in lets you down. I mean it happens, I am not naive. My own 14-karat gold plating has been rubbed off a time or two, unveiling nothing but cold hard metal underneath. It's the part of life that no one likes to talk about and tries like hell to avoid, but no matter what, it will always happen.

I've been through quite a few different emotions as of late. I was giddy and excited and hopeful and open to something new and beautiful...and although not a real word, I guess you could say I was feeling a little "smittenish"and for once in a long while, it felt like a good place to be.

I found myself smiling more and being silly for no reason; people took notice of my happiness. Oh my happy; it was indeed a good place to be. And then, without warning that a storm was brewing, the lights went out, proving once again that all that shimmers in this world is sure to fade.

When a serious step needed to be taken, a different path was chosen; leaving me standing at the fork alone with my tears and disillusion. It could be a classic case of "poor me," but not for this girl. Remember behind those weepy eyes, I'm tough...right?!

I'm made of cold hard metal beneath my skin, just like you.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, "Every wall is a door." For every obstacle that we encounter in this life, there is always a way over it. There is nothing that can prevent us from getting through it and moving on, knowing that at the point of impact, we are the ones that hold the key to it's door.

My pursuit has not been dashed, it just begins again.

I will never lose sight of who I am and what I want. I'm true to myself, but recognize those who come into my life for a reason and change it for the better. Even the hardest of metals have their melting point.

Build Me Up Buttercup

I think that disappointment might be the cruelest of the emotions. When you're happy, your body is filled with joy. When you're sad, your body weeps, but when you're disappointed, well that is a tough one to deal with.

By definition, the word itself means "depressed or discouraged by the failure of one's hopes or expectations." Fair enough, but to fully appreciate disappointment for what it is, you have to a clear understanding of the word hope, "the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best."

Hope is the angel, disappointment is the devil that puts the kibosh on all of those glorious daydreams and leaves you wondering if you weren't just hallucinating everything that happened up until the point the bubble was burst.

Hope is the free fall, filled with spontaneous butterflies and a heart so filled with glee it could burst at any minute and you wouldn't care. Disappointment is when you realize that you're strapped to a faulty chute, knowing that at any moment you might come crashing down and that every emotion that you felt prior is overcome with disillusion.

Disappointment is like a cancer. It is an unwelcome invasion that intrudes upon and destroys everything in it's path. Disappointment is the Mac Daddy of affliction, unlike other emotions that define a particular feeling, disappointment uses it's poison to combine a whole slew of singular emotions to feed it's disease. Anger, hate, resentment, anxiety, sadness, aggravation. I could go on and on, but you get it.

Back in the day the most effective way for my parents to "punish" me was to let me know just how disappointed they were in relation to some thing I had done. It cut like a knife and left me to analyze what exactly I needed to do so that they never felt that way again. I'm not sure what is worse, to disappoint or be the one left disappointed, either way it is a tumultuous shit show of disgust.

I figuratively went to bed with disappointment last night and awoke to find it still sleeping nest to me. Seriously, just who do you think you are? Please, for once, just make up some lame excuse, throw on your clothes and get the hell out! I don't want or need you in my life! I have been used and abused by just about every emotion out there, but you sir are the worst.

Hello Emotions, Meet My Sleeve

I am a hot mess when it comes to my emotional well-being! This isn't something that just happened over night, it has been a constant thorn in my side for as long as I can remember. For someone with such a confident facade you would think that I would be able to keep it all in check, but in stressful situations I turn into a sucky baby, complete with tears. And when I say tears, I'm not talking that misty-eyed, dewy look that you see in the movies, I'm talking full on eyes red and swollen waterworks or as Oprah would call it, "the ugly cry."

The ugly cry ain't pretty folks! It is often accompanied by lots of snot and hyperventilation, which really helps to seal the hot mess deal. The more I try to control it, the harder I usually end up sobbing. It is a foolish reaction on my part and frustrating because there is nothing that I can do to stop it. So I cry and I cry and cry some more. Sometimes I cry so hard that I can't even form a simple word. When it does finally come out it sounds as if I've been afflicted with some horrible form of Tourettes.

Not only is it uncomfortable for me, but for anyone on the receiving end of that shit thinks they've stabbed me to the core with their otherwise harmless words. It really isn't you, it's me. You aren't hurting me any more than you would if I were able to man up a little. I just look and act as if I were, so please carry on, I am fine dammit!

When it comes to crying, I am pretty consistent. I make the exact same face today as I did as a toddler. Same big pouty lips and one of the most tragically sad expressions ever. I'd feel sorry for me if I had to look at myself. Crumbling on the outside, shaken but stoic on the inside.

When I was little my Mom would often play the "Free to Be, You and Me" album for me, there was a song on it called "It's Alright to Cry and to this day every time that I cry I can hear Rosey Grier's voice singing, "It's alright to cry, crying gets the sad out of you. It's alright to cry, it might make you feel better." It really does! A good cry, in my opinion, is therapeutic. It may not take all the sad away but it sure does help.

Crying is such a normal reaction for me, it is hard to imagine someone not crying. Holding all that pent-up pain and emotional stress inside can't be healthy! It manifests itself into destructive behaviors and aggression. It is unimaginable to me how someone could bottle that all up inside. I also can't imagine a life without a stable shoulder to rest your head on and a sympathetic ear to listen. Someone who can ultimately reel you back into reality.

My father is a perfect sounding board for these kind of events. He loves to tell me in his slow, southern drawl "Sugar, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." My response is always, "Well then I should have the strength of 10 men by now!" I really hated that expression for a long time because although I wasn't dead, I sure as hell didn't feel any stronger! Not after the first, fifth or thirtieth time he said it to me. Why? Because I didn't actually accept the context in which he meant it. After years of reflection, I know that he means my heart, mind and spirit.

Sure hearts break, but they eventually mend. Minds get lost, but are found in good time and spirits crushed, but never completely stripped away. I will rebuild. My foundation will be stronger, my perception wiser and my affection returned to it's rightful owner.

I'm just not there quite yet, but it will happen. In the meantime, it's alright to cry.

Oh. My. Happy.

I have learned in life that good things don't come easy and the happy is one of them. Just when you find it there will always, always be something that tries to prevent you from keeping it. It's the struggle to hold on that makes it all worthwhile in the end.

The best happiness often comes when your least expect it. You don't find it, it finds you; often in places that you'd never even imagined before. You'll want to question it, but you don't because it just feels right, so go with it. Just close your eyes, take a breath and jump into the deep end without reservation.

A month ago to the day, I stumbled across just that. It was a tiny bit of accidental happy that I didn't see coming and I really wasn't sure what to do with. I could have easily put it in a box and quietly stored away on some dreary shelf as I've done with so many things in my past, but I didn't, not this time. I'd clipped my own wings for far too long, it was time to fly.

It didn't come without a certain level of conflict. There have been layers of idiosyncrasies to overcome and deal with, but in the end invaluable enough to do exactly that. Fight hard and fight well for everything good that you believe in, it's worth the struggle to hold on.

So, off I go. Where I fall is where I land. Loose ends may tangle down, but once they take flight they will never bind. Look out happiness, I got you in my sights.

Friends in Low Places

My Facebook page will superficially show that I have hundreds of so called "friends," but when it comes down to it, I choose to surround myself with an intimate group of people who define the true meaning of the word. Benevolence, favoritism, loyalty...call it what you will, these people fill my heart with unconditional love and support.

From the outside looking in, we could not be more different. Each of us comes from very diverse backgrounds and social stature. If we passed on the street as strangers, chances are our paths would never cross again, but somehow fate brought us together and we live happily in an imperfectly perfect world.

Life could not be more sweet.

These are the people that I'd risk it all for and without a shadow of a doubt know that they would do the same for me. Most of them have seen me at my very worst and still accept me without prejudice. They've picked me up, dried my tears, told me the things that I didn't always want to hear, but sure as shit needed to and held my hand until the sun shone again.

They are the ones who will bring you strawberry pancakes in the middle of the night, just because they were nowhere near an IHOP!

With me they celebrate the best that life has to offer. We share countless stories, the down and dirty ones that only a true friend can appreciate, laugh til it hurts, stop the world when we need one another and occasionally party like rock stars. Sure, there may be a little puke along the way, but I will always hold your hair back as long as you promise to hold mine.

It is a sickly sweet love affair.

I can genuinely say that I am enchanted with each and every one of them. It took me years to find them all and now that I got 'em, I wouldn't trade them now...not ever. I appreciate each of them for exactly who they are and am filled with true affection knowing that they will take me just as I am, quirks and all.

You know who you are and I got nothing but love for ya.

A Time to Say Goodbye

I knew this day would come but all the preparation in the world doesn't make it any easier. Today is the day that I will have to put my 19 year old cat Shadrach to sleep.

I have watched him grow from a wild kitten into a 20 pound tom cat and I have watched him deteriorate from that bad ass physique into a frail 6 pound old man. In human years he is close to 100.  He is in kidney failure, last night he lost the ability to move his hind legs, it's time to say goodbye.

The earliest appointment I could get was for this afternoon, it feels like forever and it feels cruel to prolong his suffering. I'm trying really hard to put on the brave face but I know that soon I will fall to pieces.

My heart is breaking knowing that in just a few hours he wil be gone from my life forever. I know that some will say, "Get over it, he was only a cat!" but he was my cat and has seen me through all of my adult life.  So if that is what you are thinking right now, don't say it out loud.

Shadrach was named after a Beastie Boys song from the album "Paul's Boutique." Cool song, cool name, cool cat.

You were so loved and will be greatly missed Shat cat.