I'm trying really hard

And maybe I can handle this after all. I need to stop worrying about tomorrow and worry more about something that I CAN manage like the next 5 minutes.

I really HAVE lost a lot of weight. I'm not sure what it is but l feel just like I did the year that I had cancer and my husband had a girlfriend. I've been assuming that it was just my nerves...I HAVE been taking less and less xanax so I don't have withdrawals. I don't know what it is so I guess I should get my ass to a doctor and have my calcium levels checked soon. In the meantime, I can wait to see how thin I get this time. You never know what clothes you can wear until you shop for a size 0...I didn't even know there WAS such a thing!

OK. I'm gonna try this again.

OK...there's STILL more

Ah. I've spent the entire night/morning worrying. From 1 AM until 10 minutes ago, I have been in a hideous state of panic. Sometimes I irritate me so much.

Now what bitch?

We define our own life's through our own reaction to it. If you act as though nothing is wrong, nothing is wrong. If you act like something is the hardest thing in the world, it is. I have to keep telling myself that. This is not so bad. Damn, I freaked out there for a while. I think I'm going to stare into space for awhile. Whatever, it's all good. I know that because I said so.

OK, OK, OK

I am feeling physically exhausted. I haven't said so much because I feel like such a jack ass. Let me tell you, when I look at my grandson working with one arm and getting things done...and he never complains...I feel even worse. But, looking at him is giving me strength because he faces so much every day he wakes up with a smile on his face. I should be able to face at least half a day with a smile on my face.

This is a pathetic decision isn't it? California or Florida. Life sucks.

Tomorrow is the court date in Florida. If I don't go, the charges will probably be dropped and if I'm ever abused in Tampa again, I can't call the police for help. If I get on the plane and go back, I will simply have to go to a hospital and turn myself in. At this point, if they wanted to arrest me for not showing up, I don't think I'd really care. At least I've have a place to go. The idea of being all alone with no place to go is just too frightening for me. In Florida, I'd have medicaid and I would be out of the way of everyone I care about. If I don't, I don't know what else to do. I have no place to go tomorrow and the last thing I want is to be a burden to anyone. The easiest thing in the world would be to kill myself but I don't have the ignorance that will let me do that. As I've said before, I can't do that to my kids and after spending so much time with my grandson, I couldn't do it to him.

Leaving Florida also meant leaving my medicine and now, when I'm more afraid than anything, I don't have any xanax. I'm exhausted, I can't sleep and I'm so embarrassed by all of it. I'm starting to think I need to go back, for medical reasons if nothing else.

OK, any questions? Any ideas? No...no one but you guys know what I'm going through because I can't drop my shit on anyone else.

It can stop now

I have a huge decision to make. I've been putting off the making of the decision because everything about it scares me. It scares me so much that it's occurred to me that nothing can be worse than this constant dread. Whatever decision I make isn't important, I just have to make one and act as if I have a plan. Once I do, things will be easier...of that I am sure. It really doesn't get much worse than this. Well, drowning would be worse, but not by much.

YIKES!!!

HELP!!!

What a beautiful morning!!!

I'm sitting on the roof overlooking Pacific Coast Highway and, a few blocks away, I can see the Pacific. It's to my back now so that I can see what I'm doing on the computer (almost). The sun is shining and except for a cumulus here or there, the sky is as clear as it can be.

My daughter just called to let me know that she'll be here soon so I wanted to check in and tell you guys about my grandson...you didn't think I'd let you out of this mess without bragging a bit...did you?

He's just adorable. I haven't heard him cry at all. He's the only baby I've ever seen that doesn't cry when he wakes up from his nap...he just sits there and says, "Mommy? Daddy?" His parents are never far so I guess he just doesn't have to cry.

When I got to their place yesterday, he was taking a nap. That made me NUTS!!! To have your grandson in the next room and not be able to go grab him and hug him is just torture. He didn't make me wait too long, though. When the baby monitor started saying, "Mommy?", both of his parents were in there quickly. So was his grandmother. Of course, he didn't know who I was so he rolled into Mommy for a minute. Then I told him that I had a car for him and he came out, not really shy at all for a 2 year old. We played with cars for a while and went outside to play some more. I was reading him a book and he sat next to me at one point and then he looked at me and puckered up for a kiss...all by himself! That was the best kiss I ever had in my entire life.

My daughter has to work today so I'm, hoping that her husband will come and get me so that I can play with cars again. I don't know if you guys remember or not but when my grandson was born, they found out that he only had one arm. (No, none of the ultrasounds caught it!) It was absolutely fascinating to watch him get along with what he does have. I bought him a car that you pull back and then let it go. It's a 57 Chevy and the doors open. I figured that he would be able to manipulate the car and it's doors when I bought it. I didn't know how he got anything done but he's figuring it out all by himself. He used his little upper arm to hold the car and then he used his left hand to open the doors. Between his upper arm and his chin, it's amazing what that little boy can do! I left at bedtime and slept here in a hotel room that my daughter rented for me. She works for the same company so she got a great deal on the room. I just have to be really, really good because I can't let anything I do get her in trouble.

Also, I've been thinking too. I knew that I couldn't think straight back in Florida so I tried to dismiss everything until I got here. Now I have to figure out what to do with myself. I feel so good this morning and if today is any indication of life post-bullshit, this should all be good. I don't know how long it'll take to be back to myself but it shouldn't take too long. I just have to remember how strong I've always been and trust myself to figure out how to get by day after day. Seriously, I'm not so bad.

And yes...pictures shall be forthcoming!

Whew...

...that was taxing. I am at the gate from which my plane will leave in about 2 hours. I had to be here this early to be sure I got over a hurdle. Actually, I've known about this issue for a while and suspected that it may pose a problem. I'm good now...but it could have gone either way.

I'm flying from one end of this fine nation of ours, a week after the Boston terrorists bombings...without an ID. I never told my daughter because I didn't want her to worry...and she WOULD have. So, kiddo, if you're reading this, I'm on my way. Even if you aren't reading this, I'm on my way.

I must say, navigating the security gauntlet of an international airport is a bitch. But, it wasn't really too bad either. I've known that I didn't have an ID since before I bought the ticket. I'm not in the mood for the entire ID story so I'll just tell you how they handle that situation.

First, I went to the ticket counter to get my boarding pass. I told the guy I had no ID and he asked me to show him what I DID have. I had the ID card issued to me by an organization that helps homeless people with mental illnesses so that I could avail myself of some county issued programs. Also, yesterday I got my Medicaid card in the mail so I had that. I had a few other things but at that point, he just gave me my pass and directed me to go upstairs. When I did, there was a small line at the entrance of the terminal. They were checking ID's against the boarding passes. Once again, they simply handed my back my cards and directed me to the huge TSA security check. This was going to be it.

I was going through everything until I showed the guy my ID and he said that I needed additional screening. First, I was patted down over every inch of my body. (Don't worry, "sensitive areas" are patted palm down and away from the body parts.) Then the chick took off her gloves and said that they tested positive for explosives residual. So, at that point they escorted me and my bus-pan full of stuff to a private screening room where I was patted down more aggressively. They dumped my stuff out and swabbed each piece with what looked to be an alcohol pad but obviously wasn't...it was just checking for residual crap.

You'll be pleased to know that the TSA has thoroughly searched me and my stuff so I am as safe as I can be until I get on the plane. I'm nervous but I'm leaning on the fact that I'm doing the right was.

See the window above the office?

That's where I am. That window is open because it's rather nice here in Tampa. I don't know if it's open in the picture, but it's open now.

Today has been as a rather tentative roller coaster. The wise thing to do would probably be to grab hold of the controls. Of course, roller coasters don't usually leave you any control...that's what makes them scary.

NOW IT'S 3 AM.....Wednesday morning:

OK, it's now later than it was because my daughter called and I wanted to talk to her. Then, I went to sleep early because I knew that I had to wake up early. Last night I set the alarm clock, left a wake up call and had a friend call me too. I didn't want to take any chances. When I had to get up for work, I would set 4 alarm clocks and put them all around my room because I have a habit of turning them off and going back to sleep.

That didn't happen today. It only took 2 of the pre-set alarms to get me out of bed. I have to drink this coffee, take a shower and get ready to go. Then, I have to get to the airport early enough to deal with them and then I have to call my daughter to let her know I'm getting on the plane. Then, I'll get on the plane and fly to Denver. I have a layover there and then on to Los Angeles. So, most of the day I'll be on an airplane or in an airport. When I get to LA and settled, I'll hook up with you guys again and let you know how today went. I expect a bit of trouble at the airport but with any luck, I'll be flying out of here at around 8.

See ya on the other side of the country! God willing, it'll be today!

Oh snap

This is a real story...not a drill. Trash was found in Tampa earlier today. I know it was trash because the SWAT team said so.

This isn't gonna be fun.

I would have told you this yesterday...

...but yesterday was a rotten day. Not for me and my psyche...but for Walt and his. I woke up knowing that I had certain things that had to be done before I leave Wednesday. I got up early and waited for Walt to wake up. He usually wakes up before I do and if he's still in bed when I get up, he'll jump up as soon as he hears me just to be sure I'm not doing anything crazy like talking to someone or getting dressed. For some reason, yesterday he stayed asleep so I waited for 2 hours for him to get up. After it got close to 10 AM, I was getting anxious because I needed to get started. I did what I could by myself, like shower and get a few things together but eventually I just had to wake him up because I needed to get into that room to get my dirty laundry to wash so that I could pack.

If I waited just ONE MORE DAY, I couldn't be sure of getting ANYTHING taken care of. Waking him up was stupid, he spent more time bitching about that than it would have taken me to do laundry. When he calmed down and made his usual excuses for being a dick in the morning, "Just wait for me to have a cup of coffee.", I told him that I had things to do. He said that I couldn't leave with dishes in the sink so I did the dishes. Then I did a few other things that he wanted me to do and eventually he had to leave to take his father's car to the shop because the old man drove it into the gate at the entrance of the community. When he came back, he found me getting my laundry together. The community washers were changed from coin operated to pre-paid card operated and I didn't have the card. He said his wouldn't work and he wasn't going to get a new one because "It's a sham." Sham or not, those cards got the job done. I couldn't get one because I don't own a place there so I waited for him to get back. Before he left he said he would figure something out for me when he got back. All he offered when he got back was HIS dirty laundry. I didn't have time for that, I wanted to wash 2 loads and pack. He was making it difficult at every turn.

When he got back and found me doing things that didn't include him, he became annoyed again. I tried to tell him reasonably that I needed to get things done but he insisted that I was acting "differently" since he got back. To him, that usually means that I must have spoken to someone or some other dumb ass thing. But nothing happened, I just had to get stuff done. His father's companion said that I could bring some stuff over to the dad's place so I did. I spoke to the lady for a while and tried to explain to her what was going on. I have to be careful over there because those people only know what Walter has told them about me and I certainly know what he told me about THEM...so I didn't know what to expect. Luckily, that lady was normal and she tried to help me. The father's companion is bright enough to figure out what's going on.

I told Walt that I was going to just get my stuff together and go to a motel unless he stopped driving me insane and naturally, he didn't. He spent most of the afternoon trying to get me to tell him what happened between the time he left and the time he got back. Nothing happened, I just was getting to the time when I would just have to leave and do everything alone or stay and hope that he helped me leave. I couldn't calm him down and I kept thinking about how women get killed as they leave this type of situation so I got scared and smart at the same time. When I had one suitcase packed (along with a bag for my toiletries, my medicines and my computer), I gave up and called a taxi.

Before I left, I took 2 xanax (which I never do) because I knew this was going to be hard. He harassed me the entire time so I just kept my phone in my hand, ready to dial 911. I had to do that until I just went outside and sat down with my stuff. It took a while but eventually the cab came. When it did, I put my stuff in the back and while I was doing that, Walter started being a dick and throwing the rest of my stuff at the cab. He had crammed some of my stuff into my other suitcase and was trying to get the cab to leave with all of that stuff. I couldn't drag more than suitcase because I had packed that one so much it was already too heavy for me.

Anyway, I got in the cab, told the guy what was happening and that I needed to go to a motel. He took me to one and I checked in and plugged in my computer and phone. Then, I walked across the street to get something to eat. I came back, ate the food and that's when the xanax hit me. I just stretched out on the bed, still dressed, and fell asleep.

This morning I woke up wondering where my dog was. I was reaching around for him when I looked around and realized where I was. I had an immediate flush of fright for a moment so I took a half a xanax and the rest of my medicine and brushed my teeth. Then, I decided to let you guys know what was going on...so here you go!

I'm out, I'm safe and I'm leaving town. There's so much more going on that you all need to know about but right now I have to take a shower so that I can be dressed before 8 to start doing the things I need to do. This is just the beginning of a huge mess but it's also the ending of my imprisonment. OK? I had to spend almost every dime I had to get this far so things should get tougher for a while but I never heard of anyone dying because they didn't have any money. On the other hand, I've heard of a lot of people dying because they were in the presence of a lunatic.

Act as if...

...I heard that years ago and it's gotten me through some crazy situations where I didn't think that I would ever figure out what to do. I just told myself to act as if I knew what I was doing. I may not always be sane but I can generally act as though I am.

I may not always have the strength to do the right thing, but I can usually figure it out and then act as if I know what to do. If you compare doing the right thing to being in a race, I'm just bending down to touch the ground as I attempt to bring all of my energy to bear.

I'm telling you now that this month is going to be very interesting. Very soon, I won't have to be so cryptic. Since one day last week I've been acting as if I know what I'm doing. I've been acting as if I have a plan. I've been acting as if I had the courage to do what I think I need to do, even if I'm making a mistake, I can always regroup and try again. So, I guess I'm sort of on auto-pilot for a few days. Don't go too far...this should be interesting.

Oh! It's scary too, by the way. I need to grab my egg shell shoes for now and proceed very carefully...if you get my message.

Didn't ANYONE have a karioke machine?

Wow...I just caught myself being manipulative.

That was freaky. I have to think this one through. I didn't even realize that I was doing it until I had already done it but yeah, I was taking advantage of what I knew about someone to control their behavior. I never noticed that before.

The more I think about my mom, the smarter she seems. She used to tell me that I was being manipulative but I didn't know what she meant. I guess it's because I never did it on purpose. How evil it is to live by manipulating people on purpose!





5 minutes later:

I forgive me for being manipulative, I thought about it and remembered that I TRIED to use words first. English is my first language. Manipulation is an option, not a default.

In case you're wondering...

...what's going on right now, I'll tell you. I feel totally afraid, almost to a panic state but I'm easily able to "keep a lid on it for now". The best way to explain how I feel today is this...you know that feeling you get when you hear the tck tck tck of a roller coaster as you go up the first hill? Then, as you make that first turn, right before you can see the ground, there's a special feeling with that experience. I have it now. Add to that a huge sense of impending doom and you have a good idea of what I'm going through.

My first reaction to this fear crap is usually medicinal...especially if it gets this bad. But, I've taken a full milligram of xanax and I feel as though I never took it. That's the most I ever take at once although I think I'm getting to the point where I might need a higher dose. That's actually a hefty dose already, but when I feel like this, it might just be necessary. But, right now that's not an option and I can't take another one for hours. Actually I could, but it's probably not a good idea.

So, that leaves me with my reasoning powers. I keep telling myself that whatever happens, I'm not going to perish. After all, what's the worst that COULD happen? As long as I know my kids are fine, I'm fine. So, seriously...why do I feel like this?

I can't be the only one whose gone through this. As usual, I'm one of the few people to be totally transparent about it but if I've learned anything, I've learned that I rarely experience a totally new human experience. There's ALWAYS someone else going through the exact same thing. So, I risk sounding rather self absorbed in hopes that someone else gets this. Remember the bubble to which I've referred a couple times? That bubble is a bad bubble. It's a scary bubble and it demands my attention whether I want it to or not. So, yeah..if I do sound ridiculous and even childish at times, know this; I'm being as honest with you as I can be with myself. And know that I can wallow in self pity, as long as I write it down and then look at it again later. That will speed up the end of the pity party and that's a good thing.

Pity is pretty useless anyway. Whenever I even try to feel badly for myself, something happens that shows me how badly someone else has it. The best example of that had to be the worm invasion I repelled a few years ago. Just as it was raining worms in my kitchen and I wanted to cry, some lady had brain surgery for what turned out to be a huge worm in her brain. How the hell does that shit happen? That lesson wasn't even wrapped in a parable...it was right in my face. If that piqued your curiosity, you can read my worm story here:

http://diaryofmydivorce.blogspot.com/search?q=worms+on+my+ceiling

My brain needs a nice, long break...

...so I shall give in to it. After all, a brain is a terrible thing to ignore.

I'm sitting here in Florida and it's a hazy, overcast day. Rain is expected and the weather report is calling for a high of 73. I can live with that. I'm wearing capri's and a t-shirt that says, "More Fun To Munch". It also has a Nestle's Crunch bar on it. My socks are hanging around my ankles and I'm relatively comfy. I don't know why I mentioned that but there you have it...my attire for the day.

I've had some interesting t-shirts over my life. I don't know what happened to some of them but I know my ex trashed my box-o-concert tees. That was devastating. I had a LOT of great concerts represented in that box. Not to mention my bootleg t-shirts. Those alone were worth keeping. Concert tees are the only shirts I wear in public that make a statement. I try not to walk around with too many dumb things written across my chest. The Who from '75 is a cool statement to make.

The other t-shirts that say something usually say something stupid. I think I buy shirts that are sarcastic on a whim and then never really want to go out in public with such a long trail of obnoxious first impressions left behind me. I have one shirt that says, "Sure Men have Feelings...But Who Cares?" That is never a shirt I wear if I have even one old ripped shirt left clean. I don't know why I bought it and where I thought I would go with it on...but I do have it. I have shirts from game shows I've tried out for that I sleep in. Oh, I DO wear my nurse t-shirts...those are always acceptable. But most of them are wearing out as is my usefulness.

I was at a local Goodwill store with a friend and I overheard someone say, "Oh no...this is last season's." Really? How the hell can you tell? Do they change them like they do Mustangs? Can I tell from the headlights? Usually one must be shopping at Neiman's to witness such conduct.

Oh my...I just thought of something.

I think things are going to get very interesting around here before my birthday. This time I know something is coming...I just don't know what it is.

Turn around and walk out the door.

I know how easy it is to say that and I'd say the exact same thing. The problem is that I remember every single time I've done that in the past year or two.

First, let me say this. I'm not trying to make excuses. Really. Every time I've left I've felt amazingly good about myself and I said to myself, "All you have to do is do exactly what you know is right. Do the right thing and nothing bad can happen." That seems like such a good philosophy...it worked for Reagan. So, in a good mood, I would walk away, glad that I was doing the right thing and proud of myself for setting a good example for my daughter, who really is the main motivator for me. She has kept me alive this far because I wouldn't do anything that would hurt her. So, it isn't as though I don't think about anyone else, I do, to my own detriment at times. I wish I could explain exactly how good I feel about myself when I walk away, maybe I have to be walking away to describe it. Anyway, my point is, I have my moments when I know damn well what I'm supposed to do...and I have the strength to do it.

One day I walked away with a couple of small bags and went over to my father's house. I said, "Dad, could you please help me while I have the strength to do this? All I need is a ride." He told me to take the bus so I did. But seriously, right at that moment, his help could have made the difference between my leaving with a tiny bit of hope, feeling somewhat worthy of help...or leaving with no help, feeling unworthy of a father's love. But, I did leave that day.

One day I was trying to leave and a miracle happened. Somehow, my kids all decided to stop talking to me after talking to a man they've never met. I have no clue what he said to them and to tell the truth, it doesn't matter. There isn't anything that anyone could say to me that would erase what I know to be true. Anyway, I wanted to leave but I didn't know what to do. Out of nowhere, my daughter called. She heard what was going on in the background and she told me to get out...NOW! She had no idea how much her support meant to me that day. I did thank her for that even though she probably didn't grasp exactly how important that was to me. I went to a motel down the street and stayed there for 2 days trying to figure out what to do next. I did and I carried out my plans. I forget exactly what happened that time but as usual, something happened and I ended up back here.

I can remember the times that I left and I remember the outcomes, I just can't match them all up with each other. Nevertheless, one time I went straight to a homeless shelter. I could have dealt with the rats. I could have dealt with having to leave everything I owned behind me. I could have dealt with the other people because most of them, to me, seemed rather decent. But what I couldn't handle was the night-time activities of the shelter. There was one lady with many, many problems and although I could walk away during the day, at night we weren't allowed to leave the "dorm" after lights out. The lady with problems spent her nights hollering. It was like being locked up with a bunch of scary people and I have enough trouble sleeping, I couldn't handle being locked in a room with a racist black lady who shouted out nasty things about white people all night. Even if I could have fallen asleep, I never could have stayed asleep. I just laid there in the dark, afraid and wide awake. You can't leave your stuff in a homeless shelter during the day. They get you up before the sun and you have to leave until 4:30 PM when you are allowed back to be locked up with the nut lady. I didn't have a shopping cart so I couldn't go far with the stuff I had with me. I gave up early that time.

Once I went to a relatives place, happy to sleep on the floor. But I saw people doing drugs that I had never seen before and it scared me because, contrary to what people have said about me, I don't do drugs...unless of course you count weed. I'm not afraid of weed, but I am afraid of drugs that people kill for. I had to give my relatives boyfriend all but 20 of my xanax the day after I got there. When I asked where the closest pharmacy was, that was it. My pain pills and my xanax were fair game and the guy was a scary guy...I couldn't say no. I didn't want to be anywhere near that situation when the cops finally came. I'm sure they would have been there eventually, if I was lucky enough to avoid a shoot-out in the meantime. I gave up and came back again.

I went to another relatives house once and as soon as I got there, she moved in with her boyfriend. One afternoon after he had spent the day drinking, he asked me to pay the electric bill. I asked for the phone number so that I could call the electric company and that just made him angry because he wanted the cash. He was acting like such a jack-ass that my relative walked away, leaving me there with a drunk guy who wanted my money. After a few threats, I didn't know what to do so I called the only person that I knew would come and get me...and I ended up here again.

I went to a domestic violence shelter once and within a few days I had a huge seizure. They took me to the hospital and when I got out, they wouldn't let me back because they said they weren't prepared to care for me. I found out later that they were violating rules designed to protect the handicapped but by then, it was too late, I had gone back.

One night I tried to leave and I ended up with a busted hand and a bad back injury. After that altercation at the door, I barricaded myself in the bedroom and stayed there from Friday until Tuesday trying to figure out what to do. By Tuesday I gave in to the constant CIA like tactics and I said, "You're right...it's all my fault. None of this would have happened if I had my medicine so will you take me to the doctor to get it?" The doctor saw the injuries and called the police. I ended up in a domestic violence shelter where I sat, feeling hideous about myself. This is when my kids weren't speaking to me. I knew that they would speak to me on Christmas but when they didn't, my idiotic self couldn't handle it anymore. I swallowed a LOT of my heart medicine and was hospitalized until I was sent to the cuckoo's nest. I actually felt good for a while there. They changed my meds and it was working. They discharged me and set up an appointment at the outpatient clinic where I went to get my first month's worth of meds. I took them and then went back the next month, only to find out that the state pays for the first month out of the hospital but after that you need insurance of some sort. I couldn't afford the $750 medication and that was that...all the progress I had made was abruptly halted. I found out later that I had Medicaid the whole time but I didn't know that then. I was still trying to get the Hillsborough County insurance but I didn't have Florida state ID.

(The ID story is another big mess, I went to get a Florida ID but I didn't have my birth certificate. I tried to get that but I needed a state ID with my current address on it. All I had was my Georgia ID and I had lived in two other states since I was in Georgia. I could write for a week about this mess alone. As I was told many times, "It's not you, New Jersey is a hard state to deal with.")

Other stupid little things have messed with me as well. I went to court one day to be there for a bail hearing. The judge said that I had been subpoenaed to a court date and never showed up. At that point he told me not to talk because I might be arrested for failure to appear and he needed to protect my rights. I had never been subpoenaed but I couldn't talk so I couldn't do a thing but walk away, afraid that the cops were now going to lock me up. This past week, I was again told that I missed a court date that I had been subpoenaed to appear. Once again, I never received a subpoena. Not only didn't I get a subpoena, I was actually told that the hearing was nothing but a "dispo" hearing that I needn't attend.

At my best, I could probably handle this crap. But I haven't been at my best for some time now. The only people who don't listen to the lies about me are the people who have heard what's really going on here and unfortunately, that's not many people. I found a place that I could stay for 12 bucks a night, but I don't have enough money to put out for that. If I took the rest of my cash and went to THAT place, I'd be out of money rather soon and back in the same situation. Of course, being robbed of $300 didn't help at all. Actually, it did more than $300 worth of damage. It added to my knowledge that I'm an idiot.

I think about things and decide that only a true loser would be in my situation. I don't have a car, I don't have anyplace to put my stuff and I just don't know what to do. Then I think to myself that I'm a drain on society and the depression, anxiety and other health problems add to the fear.

Now, during all of this, the one person who will help me is the person who tries to control me. He tells me how this is all my fault and that I've done it to myself. After a while, I start to believe that because there isn't anyone else who is telling me anything different. So...guilt sets in. That just feeds the rest of my problems and then you have what I am today...a woman afraid to move a finger for fear that something else will blow up in my face. And I KNOW I should leave. I KNOW it's the right thing to do. I KNOW that every day I don't leave I'm making things worse. That knowledge does nothing but prove to me how weak and pathetic I am. I think of what I've accomplished in my life and I remember a time when I could do anything that I wanted to do. I put myself through college while raising 3 little ones. I'm a published writer. I'm a nice person and a wonderful grandmother. I'm not even a bad mother, I've made some mistakes but I have wonderful kids. They may not speak to me but I know that they are doing well so I try not to be selfish and I just leave them alone...no matter how much it hurts.

But...after all of that, my daughter still cares and I can't let her down.

I'm trying very hard...

...to get something across to anyone who is out there listening. My attempt may seem disjointed at times and perhaps out of order, chronologically speaking. But there's a method to my madness. First of all, I need to do it in a way in which I am comfortable getting this all out accurately and honestly. Secondly...well secondly I just repeat what I said initially. I won't do it half-assed so I need to do it my way.

I'm in the middle of an almost unbearable situation. I'm trying not to blame anyone so if it comes out that way, bare with me, I know what I'm doing. As the news people say, "the situation is very fluid". I'm doing this for a reason which should be obvious but may not be to everyone. In addition, there are people who don't care about me or my feelings and they will certainly try to put a stop to what I'm doing. Actually, there's only one person that I'm concerned with and to that nit-wit, I say this:

I'm doing this for me. Believe it or not, there are things in this world that do NOT revolve around you and your issues...me and my issues are a perfect example. There isn't anything you can do to stop me from doing this...I say that knowing you will still try to stop me because somehow, you will find a way to make this personal, about you, and fodder for your "List-O-Crap Meg Does To Annoy ME". My blog has been here for years and it will still be here when you are nothing but a dreadful memory. It has nothing to do with you, it is, as many have noticed, totally about me and what I think from one day to the next. I do it because I enjoy it. You certainly won't let me finish a sentence, I tried to tell you that I needed to get this out. Every time I try to tell you what I'm going through, you make it about you and, like my idiot ex, you effectively shut me up by starting an argument. Your first words are usually, "So, this is all MY fault?" Then, you rant on and on, as predictably as the morning sun. I have had you corking my brain for far too long and if I don't get this out I may just crumble in on myself. I won't let that happen. So, like it or not, I am going to tell the truth about what I am going through...if you happen to occupy a sentence or two, so be it. I don't care how it affects you and I am doing this fully aware that it very well COULD affect you negatively. Sorry, but the pressure has built up and you've left me with nothing but this laptop to talk to. You don't care what collateral damage you create along the way as you try to isolate me from everything I've ever known. Your emotions are so pedantic that I wouldn't expect you to grasp one slice of what I'm saying. You "cry" when you hear country music and you love telling everyone about the pitiful stories you become aware of because you have studied enough about we humans to know that those are heart-tuggers. I guess a psychopath can study people and how they react to some things, but you actually have to be one of us to understand a word I'm talking about. I know this will go over your head, but as I said, this is NOT about you. I'm not sure how I let this happen to me but you have been subtle, consistent and successful. Good for you. I hold you no ill-will, just let me walk away without your usual and reflexive explosions. You know I hate arguing so you use it to keep me in line. I'm done trying, I gave up a long time ago. If I weren't such a mess right now, you couldn't do this to me. If ever you find yourself in a situation where you have to pay for your behavior, please read this blog. I know your story about the night that resulted in your arrest. You've told me over and over again as though you're repetitious declarations will make me question my own sanity and forget what happened. Nevertheless, if you'd like to tell your own story, start your own blog...and if you don't like what I write, don't read mine.

OK...I'm trying

But I can't get anything out because I'm being constantly harrassed. I've gotten myself into a hideous situation that I can't get out of. Have you ever met someone who simply will not be ignored? I can keep my mouth shut and ignore this fool for the longest time but after a while, I can't help but yell, "SHUT UP!!! I can't handle this!" I wish I had a camera so I could show you what's going on. I'm right by my dad's but he's mad at me so I can't even seek refuge there. I just want to knock on his door and say, "Can you give me some advice and maybe a ride?" The last time I asked him for a ride he told me to take the bus. I'm literally scared stiff.

This is one of the scariest things that I have ever done...

...but, the need to do it is like a compulsion that's coming from many angles of my psyche. It's going to be difficult so I just won't think about it until I have to hit the publish button. Cool.

So...where do I start? That's actually a tough one. Do I start with childhood traumas? Did it start when I was 6 and screamed bad words into the pillow, angry at God for not stopping my parents from fighting? Did it start at the business end of a belt? Let me tell you about men's belts. In the 60's they were skinny and had a whip effect. In the 70's they were wider and covered more surface which left a much bigger bruise. Maybe it started when I was raped as a teenager and then told not to tell anyone because it would ruin my reputation. No one was blamed for that but me. After that, I just suffered through 3 marriages and divorces. They almost seem easy compared to the first 18 years.

I think I could have gotten through the whole divorce thing. For a while there I was doing quite well. I worked a LOT and had my dog, life was sweet. But that only seemed to last a minute before I had the stroke. Perhaps I could have handled that, after all, I'd handled a craniotomy, hysterectomy, gall bladder surgery, parathyroid cancer all just fine. But the one thing that I can't seem to get past is depression. It's more devastating than any physical illness I've been through and seemingly impossible to walk away from. I've lost count of the strokes and the seizures, they seem like blips on my radar. But I wake up in the morning scared and I spend the rest of the day confused about how to stop being scared. The more frightened I am, the less I attempt. The less I attempt, the worse it gets. I feel like I'm wrapped up in that bubble I spoke of earlier and it has desensitized me. The more desensitized I become, the worse I allow it to get. Then...guilt sets in. OMG...the guilt.

It's just one paralyzing, terrifying and never ending cycle. All of the hideous feelings feed off of each other and become stronger until I am about to collapse. I think the only thing holding me up is the knowledge that I'd just have to get my ass back up again and walk in more psychological circles until I have to collapse again. You can only drop something once unless you pick it up over and over again.

So, all of the aforementioned crap has resulted in the me who is doing the best that I can. The bad thing is that the best I can do right now is take the path of least resistance. The worse thing is that the path of least resistance is the wrong path and the longer I stay on it, the harder it'll be to get back to where I belong.

When I work up the emotional strength to do what I know that I should be doing, the logistics get me. I can't get anyplace that I need to go. I can't avail myself of things I need because I can't figure out how to logistically get it all done. Then, it's just so fricking daunting that I freak out thinking about it. Then, I'm back at the beginning and nothing has changed.

The simplest tasks seem to take on unmanagable proportions and the only thing I can do is get up, get dressed and walk to the water trying to figure out what to do.

And it's more than not having anyone around to help, there is someone who goes out of their way to assure that my attention is never left alone long enough for me to think anything through. I have this constant emotional leech that simply won't allow me to take the tiniest step forward. I can't get away and I'm not allowed the time to take care of my own business. I think this is where I need to end for now. I'll be back.

I wish I had a friend

Actually, I do have one...but I don't think I could get 5 words in edgewise to ask for advice. There isn't anyone that I can talk to because my problems scare people away. I still have a firm grasp on reality but sometimes I think it would be easier if I didn't. Once you totally lose control, someone else has to worry about you. Right now I would prefer catatonia to constant fear.

This is the type of mood that usually precedes a suicide attempt but worry not, I have no plans to do myself any harm...next week I'm supposed to go to LA to visit my daughter and see my grandson for the first time ever. I can't promise you anything after that except to say that when I get back, I will attend to things before I begin shopping for something in a .44 caliber.

I've literally been sitting here wondering who to call. I need to talk to someone...rather desperately as a matter of fact. But it seems as though everyone I care about only wants to hear good things from me. I wish I had something good to tell them but I don't. I can behave as though nothing is wrong because that's what I do but it doesn't change the fact that I'm not sure what to do and I don't know who to ask for their opinion because they think that I'm trying to get them to solve my problems and I'm not, I just don't seem to have the capacity to figure it out myself.

When you look around and everyone is pretty much gone, you know you're rather dreadful. I'd stick my hand out for help but there isn't a soul to grab it and I'm not sure I blame anybody because I'd hate to think that I might pull them in with me. Overwhelming guilt inevitably follows overwhelming loss. I'm sitting in a rather small bubble of guilt, fear and the feeling that I'm a doe in the headlights. Can you even imagine being perpetually startled and at a loss? I assure you, it's a feeling that no one except my lying cheat of an ex-husband deserves.

This bubble is so all-encompassing that I couldn't find my way TO the tunnel, much less see any light.

EXCERPT

So Meg, when you had these homicidal ideations about your husband, did you actually think about HOW you would kill him?

Nope.

Good.

Of course, I did have a body disposal plan

I saw the leaves

When I was a kid, I had to sit with the TV in my face to be able to see what was happening. My father always said, "Back up, you'll mess up your eyes if you sit so close." Both of my parents constantly told me not to "squint". I had been squinting and NOT seeing the TV until one day in 1973 when, at the school's urging, my parents took me to an eye doctor who gave me a prescription for glasses that I FINALLY had. Naturally, at the same time, I had braces and was going through a dreadfully awkward phase to say the least. Those hideous brown glasses on me was like a bad pitcher with a paisley glove.

It didn't help that my long blond hair made me look like Linda Blair during the heyday of The Exorcist. And apparently, not in a good way...they referred to me as Exorcist Lady. I got back at them all by sprouting and dating college men. Senior year was quite nice for me after The Exorcist Lady craze. Before that, lordy, I hated high school.

I still had the glasses senior year but I didn't wear them because I didn't want to. I might have if they were at ALL cool, but brown glasses were out 5 years before I had them. Anyway it's too bad that I made myself miss so many leaves. Today I really miss seeing the leaves...as I did the afternoon my mom and I drove away from the eye glass place. Up until then, trees had been nothing but big, green, blobs. The were lovely with leaves on them.

Today my father has 6 kids who all wear glasses. He never even thought that I might need glasses because neither he nor my mother wore them. And, as he reminded me often, I was the first kid and meant to be practiced on. Oh well.

My glasses are broken and I'd like to see the leaves again.

Jodi, Jodi, Jodi!!! (She said in her best Cary Grant)

"We own nothing but the talents God have given to us to improve upon, to show Him what we will do with them." - Brigham Young

That was taken right off of Jodi Arias's Twitter. It was the only recent tweet and I assume that, considering how much effort as it takes for us to receive ONE Jodi tweet, she put some thought into it. I'm just a bit surprised that she would say something like that during the trial that stands to elevate her to the same status achieved by some of our nation's most dastardly evil-doers. Of course, perhaps she is proud of her work...who knows what goes on in the mind of a murderess.

I mean, I love ya girl, but don't you think it would be better to start Jodi Arias Inc. once the trial is over? I certainly understand how a man can push a woman just so far before homicidal aspirations start popping into your head and I know that feeling of peace that comes over you once you figure out a solution to your problems. But I have to give you credit girl, you actually had the cahones to put your little plan into action. I couldn't have done it myself.

And you tell your story with such relish! You don't seem to care one little bit what people think of you. I'm amazed at your ability to stand up, face the world and shout out, "I'm a freak!". And then, with that fatuous trial for your life going on, you've found a way to shamelessly hustle idiots out of thier money as you cash in on the death of a mother's son. Congatulations on what you have done with your talents. I'm sure He is pleased.

You don't have to be a celebrity to have a wardrobe malfunction...

...it could happen to anyone. This morning I was on my laptop and all of a sudden...POP...POP, my boobs flew out of my shirt!

If ever you feel stupid...

...be happy that you aren't as obtuse as those in charge at Doby Elementary school in Hillsborough County, Florida who won't let a little girl bring her service dog to school. District spokesman Stephen Hegarty wonders, "Who is going to take care of the dog?" School officials want to know why the little girl needs a service dog. As the owner of a wonderful service dog who saved my life (I'll never know how many times.), I happen to know that it is ILLEGAL to ask someone why they need a service dog before you grant them the services they request.

Nevertheless, "Laura Tobia, 6, has mitochondrial disorder, a condition that causes her energy to be depleted and affects her muscle coordination, strength and control..."There are so many things that this dog can do for her,' said her father, Scott Tobia."

Toni Eames, herself president of the International Association of Assistance Dog Partners queries, "My first question would be, Who is going to take care of the dog?

Well, I wonder...is the time of school employees shorter than the time of hospital employees? After a stroke, I had to stay in the CRITICAL CARE UNIT for a week. With me, at the foot of my hospital bed, was my service dog, Payton. Here we are in our room:

Somehow, the hospital had no problem whatsoever seeing to it that my dog was cared for. You can read that story here:

http://diaryofmydivorce.blogspot.com/2010/07/service-dog-in-room.html

If you still feel a bit foolish, check out this collection of Social Darwinism at work:

Now this is a sign that will increase cleanliness

I've seen many signs in many loo's that suggest that we wash our hands. Here's one that just might get the nastiest of all people to wash up after a visit to the can.

I not only wash my hands after I use the Ladies room, I also take paper towels and use them to open the door because every slob who didn't wash up has touched that doorknob. Luckily, there's almost always a trash can within reach of the door so you can toss the e.coli soaked paper towel into the can before you leave.

I'm not one of those fake clean people who only wash their hands if there's someone else in the loo, I wash up regardless. Perhaps it's because, as a nurse, I know the potential illness's that people carry on their hands. But my daughter is NOT a nurse and she not only washes her hands, her ass never touches the toilet seat. She has some powerful thighs from years of toilet hovering.

Now, if I had a public restroom, I would post this picture over each urinal, toilet AND on the door so that if someone thinks they can just lazily pee (or worse) without washing up, they might think twice.

Just remember, every person who didn't wash their hands HAS to touch the door knob on the way out so that sucker is dangerous to the nth degree (whatever that means).

Jodi Arias' Twitter Account

Tweets by @Jodiannarias

The Good Wife's Guide...updated

Back in 2007, I posted an article from a Good Housekeeping magazine dated May, 13th, 1955. I thought it was time for an update so here are 2013's rules as compared to 1955 rules:

The Good Wife's Guide

1955-Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favorite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.

2013-Think about dinner early in the day. Plan ahead make reservations for the good table by the window. Most men are hungry when they come home and if you plan dinner well, you won’t have to wash one damn dish.

1955-Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking. HE has just been with a lot of work-weary people.

2013-Prepare yourself. Go to the local nail salon and have a mani-pedi so that you don’t have any hangnails. Put some cucumber slices on your eyes, you’ve just been a work weary person for the entire day.

1955-Be a little gay and a little more interested for him. His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.

2013-Be a little gay and ask your best friend to go on a cruise with you. Your boring week might need a lift and you owe it to yourself to provide it.

1955-Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives.

2013-Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house and pick up any dildo's that you might have left lying around before your husband arrives.

1955-Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc and then run a dustcloth over the tables.

2013-Tell the kids to GET THEIR CRAP OFF OF THE KITCHEN TABLE!
1955-Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.

2013-During the warmer months of the year, have a bikini wax. Your husband will be much more comfortable eating his box lunch and after all, if you make it easier for him, he will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.

1955-Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimise all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Try to encourage the children to be quiet.

2013-Get rid of the children. Take them to your mother’s house and let Grandma have fun. They are little darlings but no one wants them there all the fricking time. Minimize all noise. Turn off the computer, the TV and slam the dryer door so that no one sees the clothes waiting to be folded.

1955-Be happy to see him.

2013-Be happy he isn’t screwing some nasty co-worker.

1955-Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.

2013-Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to serve him a fur-burger.

1955-Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.

2013-Listen to him. Be sure that today’s story matches yesterday’s. Let him talk first, remember, his topics of conversation can be very telling.

1955-Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.

2013-Make the evening yours. Apologize if he had to wait 3 hours for you but just explain that there are some places of entertainment that you’d rather go to without him. Tell him that you live in a world of strain and pressure. Then tell him that if he doesn’t shut up, you won’t come home at all tomorrow night.

1955-Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquillity where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.

2013-Your goal, to get the bills paid so you can have some cash left over for a peaceful,, tranquil vacation in the South Pacific.

1955-Don't greet him with complaints and problems.

2013-Don’t bother complaining, fix it all your damn self.

1955-Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.

2013-Don’t complain if he’s late for dinner or even if he stays out night. Just kiss him as he leaves for work in the morning and call your attorney. Then, clean out the bank accounts before he sees it coming.

1955-Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.

2013-Get comfortable. Text message your hubby to meet you in the bedroom where you’re relaxing with a nice stuff drink.

1955-Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice.

2013-Arrange a pillow so that you can serve him that fur-burger without straining your back. Moan in a soothing and pleasant voice, asking politely for him to “make you howl like a wolf”.

1955-Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.

2013-Don’t ask him questions about his actions. Chances of getting the truth out of him are next to nothing. Remember, he is a man and as such will always tell you exactly what you want to hear. It’s no use to question him. Call Cheaters instead.

1955-A good wife always knows her place.

2013-A good husband never gets 2 orgasms up on his wife.

Nerds

Yesterday I went to the grocery store to get popsicle's. While I was there, naturally I picked up a couple of rather large boxes of candy. I merrily brought home a bag of treats any 4 year old would never be allowed to eat. They'd want to, but no parent would allow it.

The ability to own large boxes of candy and popsicles is just about my favorite part of being an adult. When I married at 18 and became in charge of groceries, I went bananas. I replaced my childhood Wheaties, Cheerios, Rice Krispies and the dreaded shredded wheat...with Fruit Loops, Cap'n Crunch and Fruitie Pebbles. It was lovely. I think I still bought an occasional box of Rice Krispies, just to chat with my food. One day, I was listening for the usual, "Snap Crackle Pop" but I swear I heard the Krispies say, "Snap Crackle Blow me"

Anyway, when I arrived home from shopping, I had a decision to make. I pondered which big box-o-candy I should sample first. Looking back, I made the wrong choice. I chose the Nerds. I took my time to carefully open it so that I would leave a small opening through which I would pour out my Nerds. It's amazing how many Nerds fell out of that small opening the first time I emptied some into my hand. There were too many for me to keep in my mouth and the box hole was so small it would be much harder to put back 200 nerds than it had been to get them out. So, I typed with my right hand (like I'm doing right now, coincidentally. I'm eating one of my popsicles as I type this. Shifting is tricky but I can type rather quickly with one hand as long as it's my right.) and at one point, for some stupid reason, I tried to use my left hand that was full of Nerds. By then, my sweat had them sticking to my fingers and, unbeknownst to me, one was stuck to the finger I was going to type with. Wait, it gets better.

I noticed the errant Nerd as it landed above the "E" on my keyboard. I went to pick it up but somehow it escaped under my "E". I thought I had gotten it out but I was mistaken. I didn't notice it until I couldn't sign in to Facebook. After they began threatening to block me from ever trying again, I remembered the Nerd. I checked and sure enough, it hadn't fallen out when I tipped the laptop over, I just shoved it under the "E". I'm not quite sure how to handle this but if I keep using the "E" anyway (it works when you hit the corner of the key) I may not have to worry about it. That Nerd just might shatter and then my "E" would work until the Nerd powder screws up something under the keyboard.

I should have gone with my instincts and opened my Good and Plenty first. One of them would never fit under a key. I watched this as I ate some last night...and yes, I shook my box:

This is what my box looks like...I'd take a picture but I don't have a camera. I bet I come across one before I finish eating them. But for now:

Warning...You just might have a gay!

It's vexing to consider that at the same time Einstein walked this planet, people were coming up with this fine example of ignorance. I don't think it matters what your own sexuality mores may be, chances are you know that homosexuality is NOT contagious. When it comes to our sexual persuasion, I think that most of us are pretty set in our ways. Rock Hudson, Richard Simmons and Liberace could all be locked in a small room with me for the entire cold and flu season...and at the end of my stay, I'm quite sure that I would still walk away strictly dickly.

I admit that I did ONCE touch a woman's breast (outside of work, there were sex organs all over people in the hospital) but that was only because she had just had a breast implant and her boobs were in the "hard as a rock" phase She was telling me about that and I was curious so I asked if I could touch one. She didn't mind at all and I went right ahead and touched that titty. BTW, as a confident straight chick, I must quote Elaine Benes and submit that "They were SPECTACULAR!" But even that nice rack did nothing to me other than make me feel totally inadequate.

I've also known many lesbians. I met my first lesbian (as far as I knew, she was the first. Who knows what was going on in high school? I was home babysitting 5 younger siblings every night.) when I was 18 and working as a nurses aide in a nursing home in Petaluma California. This one chick and I hit it off at work and eventually we started eating our lunch together, sitting outside in the grass and sunshine, and we would talk about anything and everything. One day she just told me that she was "a lesbian". My honest and immediate response was to smile and gleefully query, "Can I touch you? I've never met a lesbian before!) She laughed and appreciated my naive and sincere affect that was totally lacking judgment of any kind. She was my friend before she was my first lesbian and that friendship continued for years. I never once felt that she saw me as anything more than a friend. I was married and obviously NOT lesbian. Besides, as sweet and pretty as she was, I'm quite sure she was quite the catch. She was one of your better eligible lesbians so I really doubt that she needed to hit on married women.

That chick was my first lesbian, but she wasn't my first homosexual. That honor goes to the best teacher I ever had. He taught my public speaking class and he was the coach of the speech, debate and reader's theater team and I was on the team. My try-out consisted of one persuasive speech and one joke. I couldn't tell you what my persuasive speech was about but I'll never forget the stupid joke that got me on the team:

"A little boy is riding his tricycle down the street and as he passes the state penitentiary, he sees a man running out the front door shouting, "I'm free! I'm free!" The little boy looked up at the newly released prisoner and responded, "Oh yeah? Well I'm four."

Coach laughed until he had tears in his eyes. He had a way of making even the shyest of us feel comfortable and confident speaking in front of others. And that crafty teacher did it in a way that made us feel as though we were getting away with something. He would start practices and classes by discussing the previous night's episode of 'Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman'. He had the entire class watching that show and participating in the daily discussions. He changed it up a bit by telling us some of his Bette Midler stories. In speech class one particular day, we were to read something in front of the class. It didn't matter what it was or if it contained cuss words, as long as it was all part of the reading and not gratuitously trashy. One extremely quiet girl stood in front of the class and read something by Pink Floyd. There was this guy in class who was mesmerized by her and the words she was reading. I remember noticing him lean forward in his desk and stare at her wide-eyed as she spoke. I doubt anyone else noticed it, it was just one of those pictures that I have in my mind from my youth. Those two became a couple after that. I don't know whatever happened to her but there certainly wasn't a happy ending for him. His name was Rick Johnston and he was one of John Wayne Gacy's victims.

That is a picture of Rick. He adored Coach and he wasn't gay. Some people tried to make THAT connection.

I'm glad that society is beginning to pay more attention to their own bedroom activities than to those of others. We DO still have people left over from the days of that video...I know one older man who uses Gacy as an excuse why we should be harsh on homosexuality. I prefer to remember my friend and my coach.

Happy Deep Dish Pizza Day!!!

This was taken at Chicagoland's famous Lou Malnati's. I'm salivating just thinking about what that pizza tastes like.

Chicago is my favorite city in the world. I love the museums, the parks and the architecture. The architecture is amazing, mainly a result of the fire begun by Mrs. O'Leary's cow. After the smoke cleared and the city began to rebuild, the most famous architects in the world came to participate in building Chicago...The Second City. (Chicago was never called The Second City because it was second to anyone, today's Chicago simply is, the second Chicago.)

One day I was walking in the downtown area, not too far from the Sears Tower. I was further east and a tad north of the Tower. (I will never, ever, as long as I live, refer to it as the W****s Tower.) As usual, I was enjoying the architecture of the area when all of a sudden, I saw a building that had carvings of swastikas all around it at the top of the first floor. I sort of stopped in my tracks and stared...am I really seeing this? How could I have lived here for decades and never known about the swastika building?

This is what I saw, only it was around the entire periphery of the building:

I later learned that the building pre-dated the swastika as WE know it. It had other meanings before Hitler made it a symbol of the worst form of evil possible out of human beings.

I need to do something right now, but I'm not done with this post, I'll be back.

It's a Rainy Day in Tampa

It's a rainy day in Tampa and those are rare and annoying. It's one thing to be full of sweat all day but it's quite another to be rained on. Even the dog is wet and there aren't many things that I dislike as much as I dislike a wet, hairy, lap dog that wants to cuddle.

I do miss cuddling in general though. I miss a lot of things that go alone with being in love, from the staring into each other's eyes to the fantasizing about your love when they're not near you. I miss having someone to relax with and be ourselves while we smile, giggle and break out in that uncontrollable laugh that has tears running down your face. I can do without all of that, I have for years. But a friend would really fill up some of the emptiness of life after being isolated from most of the people about whom I care.

If you're lucky enough to have a friend, make sure you stop and smell that rose every chance you get. And, as many other women can testify, never, ever, under any circumstances (well, maybe not if you marry a future king of England) distance yourself from your friends when you enter into a romantic relationship. Don't distance yourself in any way, not by time, distance nor by lack of communication. You might be tempted to spend all your time with your new love, but remember this...at some point you might want to get together with your buddies to do something which would be inappropriate to do with an escort. Your friends might want to have a girls night out (or a boys night out) and if you've been avoiding friends in favor of your new love, he or she will take that as a step down in your relationship that they don't understand. Especailly if you're with a controlling person, they will try to monoploze your time and the more you let them, the more control they feel that they have over you. You might not even realize it when you're in the throes of the honeymoon phase of your relationship, but think about what's happening. Even a nice guy might see a sudden desire to go out with your friends as an issue so don't allow anyone to put any unreasonable dents in your social life.

There's an old saying that, even at my age, holds true for everyone...no matter how much you think you are immune, no one is immune to the fact that:

"A steady guy is here today, a steady friend is here to stay."

Of course, you can adjust the genders involved but the point is the same. When I think of all the decent guys and friends that I blew off out of loyalty to a disloyal husband, I wanna be sick.

Why didn't I think of this?

A group of Indian engineering students have created electrified lingerie in hopes of protecting women from rape attacks inside the country.
The lingerie, called Society Harnessing Equipment, shocks anyone who touches the outside of the bra, while the women wearing it are protected by an inner polymer lining, The Daily Express reports.
"A person trying to molest a girl will get the shock of his life the moment pressure sensors get activated," said co-inventor Manisha Mohan, a student at SRM University.
The students who invented the lingerie say the bra is capable of sending out 3,800kV shock waves, and it can also alert police to the location that the victim is being attacked, The Daily Express reports.

When do the panties come out?







Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/world/2013/04/03/india-students-invent-electrified-lingerie-in-hopes-to-prevent-rape-attacks/?test=latestnews#ixzz2PSITgzYP

Mystery Flavor...the options are endless.

So, here I am, minding my own business, lunching on a rather large bag of Jelly Belly's when I suddenly, and without notice, find myself tasting my very first jalapeno pepper Jelly Belly. I didn't see one of them, or any sort of pepper, listed on the back of the bag. But...there WAS a mystery flavor and I think I found it. Jelly Belly is sponsoring a Mystery Flavor Sweepstakes and I think I'll enter. I could enter as an actual Facebook page and/or blog type of entity and you guys could all contribute ideas as to the moniker this flavor should bear from hence forth. It's an official Jelly Belly flavor so it can't be something like, "Hot as Shit!" Any ideas would be welcomed and fully credited should we win.

I think this is the link to my Facebook page, I could be wrong. Friend me if you want to follow along although I'll just put the same stuff on my blog so you'd be good here.

https://www.facebook.com/meg.kelso?ref=tn_tnmn

So, earlier today I found myself using the phrase, "How do you do?" I surprised myself with that one. I try to watch my grammar/lexicon when I speak but that doesn't usually mean going back to a 1940's era vernacular. Oh well, if that's the silliest thing that I've said today, I'm doing pretty well.

Actually, the major cause of my lack of silliness has more to do with the fact that I have no one to be silly to anymore. You know, like friends. I need one badly. I was thinking about that the other day when it occurred to me that I had more fun when I was in the Cuckoo's Nest than I have since I left. I didn't appreciate a lot of that place, mostly the visible security restraints and the claustrophobia that it caused. But, while I was there, I was surrounded by other people who were pleasant to chat with, non-judgemental in their attitude and funny in the way one of them took a header down the trash chute in the dining room. Sure, one or 5 of them totally flipped out and required a frighteningly high level of "treatment", a few started screaming like lunatics and attacking staff and some of us...but all in all, the normal people were actually fun to spend time with. We played cards, watched movies and laughed at the real nuts. As one guy said, "It's one thing to be suicidal, it's quite another to be crazy." Looking back, the real fun had just started when my little clique began getting discharged. I wish I had known that they would be the last "friends" that I would have for a long time.

I enjoy going out because I can hang out with other people. I enjoy shooting pool for that reason. A little social lubricant and a nice game of pool can have quite a fun, chatty and happy benefits. The kind of benefits you get from a friend. There's just something freeing about being able to be yourself and smile with other people who actually LIKE you!

Not that I don't appreciate my friends from the Cuckoo's Nest and the local pub, I actually adore two of them, but I'd like to have these same things happening on a regular basis, like they do when you have a friend.

I miss having friends. When I was about 15, I read the magazine Seventeen. It was a publication that catered to girls my age and contained things that would concern us like acne, puppy love and occasionally (if I was lucky), an article about Donny Osmond. Once I remember reading an article about how to make friends. It basically said to pick someone, walk up to them and invite them to some social occasion. Well, I did just that.

There was a new girl at Fenton High School that year, she had transferred from Addison Trail when her parents moved to Wooddale. I lived in Bensenville and both small suburbs shared Fenton High. Anyway, for some reason we found ourselves sitting on the indoor bench's across the hall from the office. It was after school and that's about all I remember of that day except for the fact that after chatting for a while, I invited her to my house for a sleepover the following Friday night. We finished high school the best of friends and a few years later I stood up for her at her wedding, which also happened to be the same night I became pregnant with my youngest. I was using rhythm and the champagne mixed with my husband's quip, "Well, it's almost midnight so it is the right day." convinced me to make a baby.

Oddly enough, my friend's husband got another woman pregnant after they got married so she was separated before my son was even born. It scared the heck out of my friend, she never married again. She's a beautiful, successful woman and she chose to stay single after her brief foray into married life.

Anyway, I need to go out and find a friend. Anyone interested?

The Relationship Circles

A lady named Cindy left a comment that she didn't want published but she DID want my response in a post so that she could copy and paste it into an email and send it to her husband. She decided to do it like this because she said that I put her feelings into words when I talk about myself and that I make sense to her. She doesn't think she could explain it to her husband any better than could I...so she came up with this plan. She has OK'd this post so I'm fine publishing it.

Apparently, a young lady named Cindy (and that IS her real name, she wants to be able to show this to her husband and tell him exactly how this came about. She wanted me to use his real name but I won't do that so I asked her to come up with a name that he WOULD recognize when I discuss him. That name is Wayne and of course, it has nothing to do with my brother.) has some issues with her husband of 3 years. Apparently, Wayne loves Fox News so Cindy wants me to consider that when replying.

For the first few months of their marriage, Wayne would help clean up after dinner. He did a crappy job, but he DID make the effort. He would take out the trash, occasionally pull out a vacuum cleaner and even wash a window or two. Over the course of the marriage, he has slowly evolved into someone who:

A. Never helps anymore.
and
B. Bitches at Cindy about the mess.

I compare this to what our government is doing, slowing taking away our rights in little bits at a time. They wouldn't do it in one fell swoop, we would never allow it. But like the media "floats" a story about one issue or another (Hillary Clinton used this tactic when deciding whether or not she should run for the Senate. The media floated the story and it went forward from there.) The media floats stories for the government in many ways. They flood us with stories about the evils of this or that in their perpetual attempts to frighten us into allowing things like The Patriot Act which actually allows for further smacks at civil rights. My grandparents wouldn't recognize America if they came back today. We've become desensitized a little bit at a time and we have today's America.

Women (and of course some men) allow a controlling spouse to slowly do the same thing to them only in a marriage...and consider THIS...you're adding love to the manipulative situation. (Not to mention all the other emotions they feel, all the needs they need fulfilled and other desires that make them feel attached to the one that they married.) Love, needs, desires...these all allow the controlling spouse to manipulate the less powerful spouse as our government and the media try to manipulate the populace.

I like to think of a marriage as the merging of two circles. They merge and create a new entity that I'll call "Their space". Their space is what exists as the two people decide to share the circles of their own lives. If you made it online with Paint and very little artistic patience, the marriage would look like this:

Notice that the circles don't overlap completely. You still have two complete circles with two "spaces" left after the formation of a third entity, the aforementioned "Their space". People and couples can fill spaces with whatever they find important and worthy. No one person can meddle in the space of another unless they happened to be affecting another space, shared or personal. The only given here is that ALL space should be filled with respect.

Now, keeping that in mind, make decisions. Decide what is important to you and realize the fact that you have the right to your feelings. You aren't an idiot, you know if your feelings have been hurt or not. Feelings are what they are, neither good nor bad, they simply are. Don't let anyone tell you that you're being ridiculous when you voice your feelings. How can that even be possible? If you had a broken leg, you would know it hurts and no one could argue with you. Just because hurt feelings don't require a cast doesn't mean they don't hurt.

Something that I've mentioned before, be careful about what you do. I mean that in the way of household tasks. I had a husband and two sons and I never took out the trash. I learned that when every time I gave in and did something ONE time, it became my job from then forward. It seems the entire family adopted a "Mom will do it." attitude after they saw me doing a chore. So, be careful before you mow the lawn (that was mentioned specifically in the original comment) because if you can do it once, why can't you do it again? And again? And again?

So basically, the answer to your question is this, you're right, you're not imagining it. He absolutely is doing his best to control and manipulate you. Is he doing it on purpose? I can't say. I sort of doubt it, I think he just learned his behavior somewhere. It would be interesting to see how his father treats his mother or his brothers treat their wives. I guess some people do this maliciously but usually it's simply a matter of doing what they know. Wayne has his own reasons for acting like this and remember, he can't do it if you don't allow it. But you have to recognize the actual problem before you can address it. So, perhaps this answer is full of less practical information than you had hoped for...but it gives you something else, a foundation upon where to start. If Wayne truly loves you, he'll listen to you and allow for the fact that he could make life easier for you, just as you try to do for him.

Let me know what happens. :):):)