Thursday, July 30, 2009

I'm Going With Curling

The New York Times today has published yet another article accusing yet another Major League Baseball great of using performance enhancing drugs, scandalous I know. The horror, the outrage! "Not only has he let his team down, he's supposed to be a role model for children…blah blah blah."

There is scandal in every popular and publicized sport.

Tennis had the temper and media abuse of John McEnroe

Wrestling has its wide steroid scandal, and then the "Roid-Rage" murder suicides and speculations of its own people, such as Chris Benoit.

The NFL has had dog fighting scandals involving Michael Vick, had drunken driving homicides swept under the rug by Donte Stallworth, had children out of wedlock by Tom Brady.

Soccer has had the fan bedlam and extra marital affairs of David Beckham.

Boxing had Mike Tyson.

Olympic gymnasts had the "are-they-or-aren't-they" of legal age scandal in China.

Hell, even figure skating had Tanya Harding.

We put these people, these athletes, on pedestals, raising them beyond human expectations. We pay them exorbitant amounts of money, when most of them came from nothing, and then expect them to be flawless as human beings. Expect their talents in theirs jobs to carry over into their personal lives. It’s a far fall from atop those pedestals.

What our children need as role models are real people. They need realistic ideals that not everyone is perfect, but that imperfections are what make people special and different. They need to know that striving to be the best is ok, but not always expected of them.

If you want a scandal-less sport to idealize, people to look up to, whose antics have yet to grace the covers of our magazines, who have yet been fodder for tabloids, I say go with Curling.

The REAL Decline of Civilazation

A heartfelt apology via text message is an oxymoron.

Are we really so caught up in technology that we have lost all desire for human contact? All important conversations are now by text, by email, by instant message. No one comes to talk to you face to face; no one even picks up the phone.

All conversations are misconstrued, all taken out of context because they miss an important element of human nature. They lack passion. They lack understanding and emotion. The simple rise and fall of the human voice. The tone.

The cool hush when someone is talking about someone or something they care about deeply. The rise at the end of a punctuated statement when there is anger, when there is disdain or resentment.

People sit next to each other, sit across a room and send a text message. They claim privacy. What happened to the intimacy of a whisper? The cool breathe of someone else against your ear, the thrill of knowing people are all around you yet that conversation belongs only to you?

I know couples whose entire marital arguments happen entirely through this method. Are we that lack-luster in passion that we no longer need human contact? Are we becoming that robotic? Are we becoming what we feared?

I often hear of people complain that when they are in need for service, when they need something, albeit a question from a store, they call in and get frustrated when they get an automated system in response. THEY are becoming an automated system in their own lives and don't even realize the irony.

I long for human contact. I call a certain friend, no answer. I get a text later on asking if I called. YES! I did. I "called", on the phone. Generally to TALK. Had I wanted to shoot a brief message designed for texting I would have done so, but no I called, I had needed or wanted conversation. Witty banter, not mindless and thoughtless text speak sent in 140 character increments.

I miss having long conversations with friends. Getting to know someone by staying up all night on the phone, talking for hours about nothing. Hearing laughter, not wondering about the sincerity of a lingering "LOL"

I miss having to argue with someone and hearing the anger or frustration in their voice. Not that I am looking to argue, but if you are going to do it, make me know what, and why, and how things make you feel. Let me know you are passionate. That you feel in general.

I see the decline in civilization approaching. And in the end, I fear we are all turning into robots.

Press 1.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Change is scary, even in your pocket

In times when I am trying to make myself seem like I am financially frugal, stable, able to actually balance a check book adult; I miss my dad the most.

Contemplation of being an adult hits me and I realize that at 30 years old (agh I realize I just said it out loud again) I should be able to handle monetary responsibilities on my own without doubt, without second guessing my every thought.


What is it about major decisions that make us want to go running like a child with a skinned knee into the open armed embrace of a parent to make it all better? Make the problems go away, make the decisions for me.

Ridiculous things like switching my car insurance make me think I am inept as a human being. It’s like I can't function in the realm of the Grown-Up World. Collision? Full-Coverage? What?! Decisions, decisions!

I contemplate moving into a bigger apartment, which makes so much sense in so many ways; but the fear of change and the fear of not being to handle things on my own with out my father here makes me weary of any decision regarding progress.

The last time I moved was to escape. Granted I had to really, but he was there to help me. He was always there to help me pick up the pieces, albeit usually screaming at me the entire time for having to do so, but there nonetheless.

Why is it as a mother, as a 3o year old woman, as a seemingly independent woman, that when I want to try to make a decision, make a change in my life, even as silly as switching to Geico I feel like I can't do anything without my father?

No wonder I can't keep a boyfriend.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Madly In Anger

You don’t understand what you do to me

I hear your voice

My insides quiver

You touch me, and I melt

You have always been there

Even when you weren’t

My thoughts go to you when you’re not with me

I want to take away your pain

Take away your hurt

I want to go where my heart is telling me to

Where it told me to go before

You shut me out once

Please not again

I ache with thoughts of not being with you

I cry

All I want to do is hold you

Kiss you

Possibly love you

And I feel shunned

I feel ripped apart

When we’re together there is undeniable magic

There is something amazing

When we’re not

You different

You hide behind your logic

What you feel may be logical

Behind rationality and not feeling

When I am with you I can see endless possibilities

Feel them

And you

You see nothing

You don’t look passed the past

You don’t look to far ahead

You don’t let your heart lead

All I want is a chance

To make you see me

To make you want me

To be everything to you

I know when I am with you that you feel it

You feel something


Just feel

And yet apart you get numb

You push me aside

Like a child’s toy

Once played with lovingly

Then cast aside


Left to wonder what I did wrong

What I can fix

What I can change

Left alone

Left aching

Left to wonder

I can’t change the past

Nor can you

We can only learn from it

Learn to make things better

And be together

As long as it is together

All I want is a chance to be happy

For you to be happy

To think of me

To be reminded of me

To be madly in anger with me

As I am with you

Posted February 6, 2006

Once Upon A Midnight

Once upon a midnight

A rose you gave to me

Pledging me your love

And your fidelity

My heart was yours before then

My heart an open book

Your eyes captured my soul

And so the rose I took

I look to see the petals fade

As nature does proceed

But love blooms even stronger now

Its message I shall heed

To be with you

For always and forever

To be as one with you

For us to be together

Posted January 2004

I Came to a Point; Hormonal

Posted May 26, 2004

Have you ever come a point in your life when you just were at your absolute wits end? Where you thought that one more mistake or one more outburst would send you toppling into an abyss so dark and long that you may never again see the light of day? Welcome to my nightmare. I am so alone, yet I am surrounded all the time with people. I can not seem to get anyone in my life to get to a point where they understand me at all. I am in my own mental prison, and I have no means of escape. The only joy that I have is knowing I have a life growing inside me.

To know that in a few months, there will someone in this world who will love me unconditionally. Who will never know any wrong I may do in the eyes of others, only the perfection of motherhood. Any menial task I fail to complete in sheer exhaustion from pregnancy becomes yet more ammunition for the wolves who dare to feed on my insecurities. In my hormonal frailty I am weakened by things once thought impossible. Crying at the slightest thing, unable to feel adequate in anything.

I am not resentful of my soon-to-be child, I am resentful of the lack of understanding of those around me. I have a constant companion, and yet I feel sometimes so alone, that I do not know that I can fair things at all. I am falling deeper into a depression that I must keep to myself. Selfish about how I feel and if I try to voice how I feel, shut down from seemingly every angle. I feel lashed out upon by those with different ideals or expectations of what they believe I should be thinking, feeling, doing.

Any thing I may deem appropriate for myself, for the well being of myself as well as my child doesn’t raise up to the standards set by others than myself. There are days I feel that perhaps I may be understood, that I may be loved as unconditionally as one could ever hope. But then the harsh reality sets in, and I see that I am too tired to accomplish things once thought simple. Too drained to think too far ahead. I am viewed lazy, yet my body feels as though a war has ravaged inside me and I am not on the winning side of the battle. I am experiencing these emotions I never knew could be so intense, and no one seems to understand. I work, a tireless seeming job I know, but its work, and I have stress and I can’t seem to balance things the way I once was able. I want to rip these feelings of inadequacy out of my system. To remember what it is like to love myself, to have confidence, but those feelings seem like light years away.

I want what is in the best interest of my child, but I also want the best interests of myself considered. What use is a mother to a child if she doesn’t feel capable because of the thoughts pushed upon her by others? Things can be said so many times about you before the time comes when you stop defending yourself, and you start to become what people say. You start to believe the negativity and lose sight of yourself. The once joyous, confident person you were replaced by one more timid and frightful of other people’s opinions.

Who is that person? Why have I never known her and now she seems so familiar? I look into the mirror everyday and the reflection is no longer resembling me. I see familiar stranger. I know that I am to be naturally altered, with baby as well as with age, but who lies beneath the surface? She too is fading away. The one whom was the start of it all, the confident catalyst that once had people falling at her feet, now grovels to feign existence. The one thing that keeps that slightest hint of that person alive is the unborn child. Soon enough to view the world through its own eyes, and hopefully resurrect the spirit of a woman who deserves more than to be whittled into what other people want or expect. She deserves to be herself, and to be free.


Reaching out into my future

My hand ventures towards yours

Oblivious to the world

I see your eyes, hear your voice, I feel your love

Never have I felt this close

To anyone but you

Slowly our eyes engage

In an admirable stare

The world around us disappears

And you and I are one

Emotions I’ve never known

Stream through me like the Nile

I stare into your eyes

Falling deeper and deeper in love with you

I feel this in your gaze

Our eyes smile at one another

Never to end

Never to falter

Never to change

Posted January 2004

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Funny The Way It Is

I keep listening to the new Dave Matthews song when it comes on the radio and I keep thinking of how true the lyrics are. I have never really been a real Dave Matthews fan, but this song is a real stop-thinker.

"Funny the way it is."

It is isn't it? He makes such good points about so many things going on right now that every time I hear it I find myself lost. Which is usually not a good thing since its usually also in the car while driving and not always the best nor safest time to find yourself lost in your thoughts, but I digress..

"Somebody's broken heart becomes your favorite song"

This one gets me the most. You never think about it really. You rock out over and over to your favorite (gag) top 40 hit and you never think about the pain or anguish the song writer went through to get to where he/she went through. Well, unless you have a vast appreciation for the lyrical much like myself.

But so many people I know don't get it. They listen mindlessly to a good beat. Saying "This is my JAM" (Yes sadly I know people who say that...out loud) And they never realize that so many of those songs, those "jams" are penned from heartache, from someone else's sorrow, from longing.

"A soldier’s last breath and a baby’s being born"

So many of our soldiers will never know their unborn children. Will never be there to see them grow. Or will be strangers to them when they come home.

I can't imagine the sadness. I can't imagine the sacrifice that they make, that their families make for our country. Sometimes necessary yes, mostly not. Fighting mostly someone else's wars, on someone else's soil. Fighting to keep us free yes, but at costs that have a price greater than freedom.

Tearing families apart for months, years. Distances that cause rifts in relationships. Seeing, hearing and doing things that change a person for the rest of their lives.

Global warming, terrorism, economic turmoil, hailing media icons as heroes while our soldiers die in foreign lands forgotten, pressing 1 for English on our own country, paying for public schools, crime rates on the rise, drive by shootings, no cure for cancer.

Funny the way it is.

Can't Let Go

A painful past
I can't erase
I write as tears
Stream down my face
I know that I
Am not to blame
And yet I lose
Like it's a game
I want to love you
To hold you near
To tell you things
You need to hear
I can not lose
Love cannot die
You are my world
You are my life
To be with you
I feel complete
without you now
I feel defeat
Like I am drowning
In sorrow's pool
I can't let go
Perhaps a fool
Your love I know
Is not pretend
As demons past
You must defend
I want to be there
To help you through
I'd travel the ends
Of the Earth for you
I will not go
My heart is true
I can't let go
Let go of you
I will be here
Though silence cries
And hope that you
Will change your mind
To see that I
Am the one for you
And that you love me
As much as I love you

Posted July 31, 2006

What I Would Do

I would go to the ends of the earth
To try to make you smile
I would travel the world to see you
If only for a while
I would do what I could for you
To take away your pain
To love you more than anything
And pray you felt the same
There is nothing I wouldn't do
To be with you right now
I would help you any way I could
Even if I don't know how
I love you more than life itself
My feelings will never go away
I can only hope You love me too
And want to be with me someday

Posted June 4, 2006

Don't Say Goodbye

My soul erupts
My heart is aching
Intense emotions
Not foresaking
I long to hold you
To kiss your lips
Feel the warmth
Of your fingertips
Thoughts are rushing
My mind a mess
Words are spoken
I can't forget
I love your eyes
Your every way
To make you mine
I rue the day
You pull me close
Push me aside
Love we share
Can't be denied
I hope, I pray
I'll dream forever
That you and I
Can be together
I lie awake
I stalk the night
My heart is racing
Tears cloud my sight
I long to see you
To hold you close
No way to choose
What I miss most
Your touch, your kiss
Your voice, your eyes
Say you love me
Don't say goodbye

Posted May 30, 2006

Sleep to Dream

I sleep, I dream
My thoughts collide
I wish, I hope
I'm by your side
I long to see you
To hear you speak
The days without you
So dark and bleak
I close my eyes
I see your face
My love for you
I can't erase
I reach out my hand
I grab for you
I want so much
This to be true
I dream, I sleep
My thoughts awry
My heart without you
Is empty inside

Posted May 10, 2006

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

T'was Taken Too Soon

The Innocence I once possesed
A tranquil afternoon
Has disapeared with out a trace
T'was taken: too soon
The Love I felt so strong before
and to it was so tuned
Again has gone, left me disgraced
T'was taken: too soon
The Friends I've lost along the way
The flowers left to bloom
Has ended life too fast in pace
T'was taken: too soon


No need of sleep
No sanity to keep
I fall not into slumber
But down
Into an abyss
Longing for your kiss
Your arms to hold
My heart to know
Love at last
Forget the past
Times of sorrow
Erased by tomorrow
Lonliness I despise
I'm closing my eyes


Always alone
Desperate for affection
Cause for misdirection
Caught in a bind
Trying to find
An escape
From the pain
From the dark
A way to be closer
Yet further apart
Holding your hand
Trying to stand
My ground

To be..

My spirits rise to greet you
They vanish and they fall
To be, but be without you
Is not to be at all
I wish on stars above me
For you to hold me near
I close my eyes to see you
Open now,you disapear
You haunt my every moment
You over-run my dreams
Without you I feel torn apart
Ripped open at the seams
I love to gaze into your eyes
have all things drift away
I think about you constantly
Every second, every day
My spirits rise to greet you
They crumble now and fall
To be, but be without you
Is not to be at all


oh deep and tranquil night
you engulf me
you sweep away my pain
my sorrow
you enrapture me with your placidity
your cool darkness
your sparkling skies
your hushed breezes
shadow of day
dark and ever after


into eternal darkness
i seek eternal light
my life falls down around me
i search deep into the night
the pain i feel intruding
my own enmity instills
for lack of love i'm learning
is the only thing that kills
an unborn soul amidst the living
while charity is nigh
a torture burning in my mind
where deep confusions vie
placidity will keep me sane
but only for a while
the quiet now endangers me
for i am in denial
eternity may last forevert
his you have to know
but rancor, pain, and enmity
will never leave you, never

An Echo Sounds

An echo sounds, Reflections stare,
Confusion swells, Love fills the air,
A time to think, To wonder how,
Live for the future, Live in the now,
To feel my passion, To feel my pain,
I'm different now, I'm not the same,
An echo sounds, Reflections stare,
Confusion swells, Love fills the air,
The warmth within, Denial is near,
Come closer to crying, Come closer to fear,
I've felt you coming, I've seen your face,
You don't belong here, You're out of place,
An echo sounds, Reflections stare,
Confusion swells, Love fills the air,
Escape from sadness, Dreams come true,
It's over now, I'm over you,
Moving up, Moved away,
Tomorrow's here, Another day,
An echo sounds, Reflections stare,
Confusion swells, Love fills the air

Wedded Bliss

I don't know why Hollywood, why authors and poets and bards have made relationships and love seem like it is such the "thing" to have over centuries.

I mean sure there have been Romeo and Juliet and there has been Noah and Allie (read The Notebook for crying out loud) but c'mon, how often has reality dictated anything remotely close to a love as pure, an unadulterated as those?

More often than not, we strive for it. We go after failed relationship after failed relationship until we find it. "The one" He or she who makes us think that for one brief (and let me tell you from what I've witnessed it sure is brief in the grand scheme of things) moment all in the world is perfect and right and just. Birds chirp sweet melodies and clouds part and there is nothing but sunshine and rainbows.

But much like New England this summer, reality hits you and you remember it is cloudy and rainy and annoying and wet and messy and more often more of a nuisance than a hot commodity once thought of.

I mean really, who wants to wait in line in their own house to pee?

SO I wonder how this notion ever got into our heads. How did we wake up one morning and decide we HAD to get married? That we had to find one person to stay with until we're dead? I mean really, we thought a life sentence in prison was bad. At least they get cable.

How is it that a fairytale in a little girls head turns into a bitter divorce more than half the time? Are we that obsessed with spending thousands of dollars to get all dressed up for one day? Don't you remember the Prom? Oh sure sure, there are a few of you who will suck it up and stick to your vows, devout religion blah blah blah.

Seriously? Because of some half-assed promise to a man you never met, most likely pointing and laughing somewhere on his high horse in a clouded kingdom up in the sky, you are going to remain miserable until the ripe old age of 76?

Not for me thanks.

I wonder if my cynicism has anything to do with the fact that I witness the unhappiness of those of my friends and family who are married, who have been divorced, or widowed.

Those who incessantly feel the need to complain about everything wrong about said partner and how horrible they are. How they wish they didn't get married. Not all of them mind you, but more than would likely admit.

Or those who see a wedding and mutter under their breathes...."suckers" as they drive by. The wistful "don't do it" in a nicer way while coughing. Ah wedded bliss.

Makes me want to run right out and buy a veil.

I think I will stick to mindless casual sex and cut my losses. At least I'll keep my sanity.

The Magic Never Ends

Posted on May 13, 2009 at 8:18am
OK so I had that second "Magical" follow up back in December of my Cuda after my biopsy last May when all the funk with my Magical Organ began. Gotta love the multiple OB visits. Doctor gets more play down there than anyone else in my life, but I digress...

Oh the joys of womanhood. They never tell you in Health class growing up about the possibilities of such fun things to worry about. Never mention words like "Mucus" or "Discharge" and definitely not "HPV" or "Pre-cancerous Cells". Bastards. They need to prepare a girl. Sheesh.

So anyway, Back to December. Apparently my cells in the Magical Organ, the ones that were supposedly wonderful enough to mystically "Heal" themselves, like a devout Southern Baptist at a pulpit dancing for Jesus, were still on the decline. Gulp. Clearly not a good sign as far as my early possible stages for the good old "C" word are concerned.

"Not to worry", they say. "We'll just have you back in 6 months for another Pap and biopsy."

Not to worry?! Are you kidding? Another 6 months of having to wonder if my Cuda is going to fall off and I am going to be left with a mystical black hole where my grily parts once were? Oh no. I can't have that. But alas, I have to put my imagination on the back burner and concentrate on bigger things for the next few months.

So then, I was laid off for a few months. Nothing like having nothing but free time to think about your impending doom and the fact that you think your baby maker is broken beyond all repair. Awesome.

Then comes the added stress of having no money, losing all child support because my son's father is a criminal junkie moron (oh that's a story for an entire NOVEL of a blog, but another day), then losing my insurance because the state of Massachusetts has it's head up its ass (thanks Deval Patrick). Nothing like MORE stress to make you think about the future.

SO now we're here, we're present and in 2 weeks I go back to have my Cuda inspected like a new car ready to see if its drive-worthy. I know I am most likely not going to get some sort of terminal news (well at least I hope), but the fact is that if things are still on the decline, its not looking good.

I most likely have the early stages of Cervical Cancer and am not very excited about my poor supposed Magical Organ poked and prodded and scraped and electrocuted to get rid of it. Sounds contrite I know, but I happen to be a big fan of my girly parts and having them intact means a lot to me, call me crazy.

I always say that my son will be an only child until die. And that’s mostly true. My pregnancy sucked, and let's face it, I am not a fan of baby daddy drama. And let's ALSO face that me and relationships are not friends, due to the fact that I date the mentally/emotionally challenged (more commonly known as the asshole). However, you flat out tell me I CAN'T have more kids, I am gonna naturally WANT them, and then I am going to get upset about it.

Stupid Magic. Why can't this issue be Voldermort and my Cuda be Harry Potter and with a quick swab of some OB over-sized Q-tips vanquish the evil from my Magical Organ and all again be right with the world?

OH you crazy Magical Organ. I knew Magic was Hooey

Posted on January 5, 2009 at 9:00am
Ok, so since it's been 907 years since I updated about MYSELF, here goes...

I had yet another PAP to check the whole Cuda area. (if you read the last update on the Magical Organ you know about the fun times that was)

Things apparently have not magically gotten better however, much to the contrary of how wondrous and magical my Cuda may be, it is apparently not like a crime/cancer fighting HPV machine. Damnit Beavis.

So, things have deteriorated since the last one. All I can think is my Cuda is going to fall out, which to me at this point doesn't sound like a bad idea...I mean really who wants their period anyway. Then I start thinking I may not be able ot have more kids. Which I tell people I don't want anyway, which is fine when it's MY idea, but go ahead and tell me I can't I dare you, ya know?

So anyway, now I have to go back again in 6 months for another colposcopy and biopsy to see if this sloth-like funk in my crotch is still progressing into their cancerous looking decline, since it doesn't ever seem to be a good thing. I mean if you have a normal abnormal PAP, they send you a postcard like it's a Gyno vacation and wish to see you again real soon.

I keep getting phone calls, from the doctors personal cell phone, late night, all reassuring like they're trying to fool me. Hey I'm on to you there pal.

SO that's the story. Magical Organ not so magical, and the Cuda may fall off, but on the upside, I don't have to have another metal object stuck in me for 6 months right?

The Magical Organ, who knew

Posted on August 14, 2008 at 7:30am
So apparently as of today I do not have Cervical of today.

Apparently the Cervical beast is a slow growing little bastard and makes for some unclear and rather pain in the ass routines in the lovely land of the OB/GYN field of medicine.

Sorry fella's, but the Cuda is a hotbed for funk.

So I had my biopsy and that wasn't as bad as I anticipated. I was hearing all kinds of horror stories of the pain and the misery. Blah blah. My misery came afetrward, with my innards falling out in goop for the week that followed. Sexy, don't I know it.

So then I get the call from the doctor telling me results. Still not favorable, but not cancerous "At this time". Who says that?! "At this time" Just what a patient wants to hear. I mean really.

So I have to go back in 6 months and be poked and proded again to see if I have mystically healed myself, because apparently the Cervix is a magical organ. Again, who knew?

On the plus side, because this is so "early" and what not on the chance that in 6 months that it is still in the funk stages of things I can have what is called a LEEP procedure where they gouge me out with a hot iron and remove all the yuck. Like a Medeveil torture device.

Ah the advances in modern medicine.

Cervical Biopsy and Sarcasm, my favorite

Posted on August 2, 2008 at 9:00pm
OK so its been a while since I have logged into the Planet and I hope my peeps are all hanging in there. Summer being the hectic beast that it is and all. Nothing like having to cram all your fun in between the work you have to do in order to afford any of it.

So. I had a biopsy on Thursday. Yup. That's right. Me. The ever-supportive Cancer friend is now in the fearful ranks of the "What-ifs"

Back in May (I might as well start at the beginning) I had my oh-so-happy annual girly appointment. You know the one we ALL look forward to. That morning we wake up and get up close and personal with a metal clamp and an over sized Q-Tip. Good times.

Obviously this is nothing out of the ordinary, since I have been having them done since I was 16 and deemed old enough to handle it. All of my 12 years of this fun have been coming up with normal results until this past May. Because my medical like needs to obviously be more compounded than it already is.

So I get a call 3 times from my OB that it wasn't normal. I finally call them and they make it seem like its no big deal and they'll test me again in 6 months. OK, then why call me 3 times? I begin to wonder that and I call again and ask more questions. So, my OB calls again, at 8pm at my house from her PERSONAL cell phone and says after looking at things again she'd like to do things in 8 weeks. Big difference from 6 months.

So, I get scheduled for a Colposcopy and a "potential" biopsy if they see anything that looks suspect. So I go in and they have their fun with my girly parts and they end up seeing something they deem "worthy" of a biopsy. Awesome.

So then they gob me up with some funky substance, just what I want more crap in my innards. Snip snip and done. Sort of like a medical slam bam, thank you mam. Now I have to wait a week to find out what the Deuce is going on with my happy cervix.

Or not-so-happy whatever the case may be.

So now I have been having leftover pieces of my innards falling out and feeling over "not-so-fresh" like some sort of bad 80's mother-daughter douche commercial. I know right, I over-share. You love it.

But the kicker is I know that Cervical Cancer is the sloth of the cancer family and is a slow grower, so all this could just mean I'll eventually get some sort of problem. 2 of my aunts had it at my age so I know the heredity issue is there.

Then there's the kid fear. Now that I have had a biopsied Cervix, should I ever want another kid (not that I plan on it, since I tell everyone my son will be an only child til I die, but still) I will have to be watched like a hawk because my guts are apparently now fragile and what not. Thanks. If this is all because I maybe didn't shower right before my last appointment I'm gonna be pissed.

Not a good poster child for the Cancer Patient friend today

Posted on May 27, 2008 at 8:48pm
OK OK. I shudder as I think about writing this....

I have a sunburn.

There I said it.

In my mindlessness of Memorial Day Weekend debauchery, I was a tad bit negligent in the sunscreen department, and no worries people, I have been lectured and had the Cancer card pulled on me already (Kelly I love you, even if you're a pain in the bottom.)

Here's my story (and ironically is IS of a lovely lady...). I was sitting out on Sunday, a lovely sunny day in good old MA gabbing with a girl friend late in the afternoons. Sitting on a lounge chair, gossip a flying. Tube top, jean skirt, (in shock that they fit from summer's prior) and loving the weather.

NOT thinking, just talking. NO sunscreen. Yes, I am the devil I know. However, I DO have SPF 25 on my face daily, it's in my fabulous Mary Kay skin care that I so hopefully peddle, but I digress....

So thus, as the night wears on, my friend Cindy decides to say, Wow, you are getting red. I think to myself, that's funny, we weren't out very long and it was so late in the day. Ah sun, you tricky creature!

SO yes. I looked like a straight up jackass, and rightfully so. With a red stripe across the front of my chest (and in a straight line due to the tube top, looks like I got marked with a ruler, very attractive), various blotches on my thighs and even shins. My shoulders and the top of my back.

NO big deal.....So I thought.

Here's where I become a HUGE dumb ass.

So on Monday, 80 degrees and gorgeous, I decide its a FABULOUS idea to take my son to the beach. Yes. You heard me. I slather my son in SPF 50, as well as my burn, but then decide I should try to "even" out part of my ghetto burn, and put SPF 15 every where else. Hey at least I used sunscreen, usually I was a baby-oil only gal. ( I know, You're all aghast, but I can assure you, precancer knowledge I was, and probably will always remain in some aspect, a tan-a-holic)

So I slather on my shoulders and back as well as I can reach, which I thought was everything, the SPF 50 and hike off for a day of fun, sun and sand with my almost 4 year old.

Yes. Needless to say at the moment I am pasty white in most places, have a random burn on the top of one foot, 3 stripes across my back, on the side of one hip, my shins, and thighs still, and my back across my shoulders are now a nice festering bubble.

Yes wearing a bra to work today was a good time (TMI yes you'll get over it)

So, as far as I can tell, I am a baaaad Cancer advocate and am being punished by the sun and have the most retarded looking sunburn as punishment.

Oh karma, you are a bitch.

Easy Bake Oven

There are two separate but equally as important definitions when it comes to being a single mom and dating and both can be summed up in and defined by using one phrase and ironically one toy widely used in its hay-day that for some strange reason is oddly appropriate for both.

The Easy Bake Oven,Yes that’s right folks. The Easy Bake Oven.

That mystical toy that created hours of wonder for children everywhere has suddenly popped into my head (Lord help you all) and given me cause to enlighten you all to my poetic license in coming up with new and exciting definitions for that pesky little stigma of being and dating a single mom.

Ah yes, back to that. As if you haven’t heard me vent enough about the pains of motherhood and wiping ass (although thanks be it to the advances in preschool I am thankfully post-ass wiping and very very grateful), I am not however, nor probably never will be, done bitching about the opposite sex when it comes to such things.

So back to the Oven.

Definition 1.

Much like an actual domestic oven, expected to create goodies of great taste and expected to care for you and cook for you. You fall into one of the two possible definitions (in the male psyche mind you) of the Easy Bake Oven.

The classic Donna Reed-esque image, apron donned, smile twinkling and the ever-present “How was your day, Dear?” Ready to greet you when you get home from the proverbial “money-making” with a great meal and a clean house and your evening paper. Kids clean and in bed, because heaven forbid you have to deal with then (gasp) and then it’s off with your shoes and on with your slippers and then “oh look the game is on!” Why don’t I just serve you for the rest of you life? OK sounds good….

Yeah. That will happen. Give me a moment while my eyes rest from rolling.

Just because one pops a kid out of her uterus does not automatically mean she is going to stop everything and take care of your sorry ass for the rest of your life because she is going to take care of her kid. It’s instinct for them, not you.

Definition 2.

More like the easy part of the oven, and using the fact that a “bun” in fact was once in there.

You become a warming device. A means of practice and easy accessibility, because lets face it you put out….clearly.

Fella’s, just because a woman is single and has a child, does not mean she is a rotating vagina for you to use at your beck and call. She is not a booty call, and never should be, in fact, should be held in higher regard then anyone you have ever met because she is stronger, smarter, and can fix any wound with a kiss faster than any hospital. SO put that in your pipes and smoke them.

I am not sure exactly how some people have come to view single moms with such a stigma, and I now that many people do not, however, when trying to date them for some strange reason a myriad of excuses come about that are absurd and I would love to address them now.

1. I don’t need the drama.
OK the answer to this is simple. Most of you men cause far more drama than a child ever would. NEXT.

2. I don’t need to be someone’s father.
OK, most kids already have a father, and if he’s in their life the mother doesn’t expect you to be, and if he’s NOT in their life the mother doesn’t expect you to be. NEXT.

I guess you’ll never bake the same. ;-)

Never Underestimate the Power of Cleavage

Posted Date: : Jan 5, 2009 5:15 PM
You've all seen the t-shirts. "Tell your breasts to stop staring at my eyes", "Those boobs look heavy, may I hold them for you?" or hell even "They're real, and they're spectacular"

There is an unspoken (or even obnoxiously spoken) obsession with the pectoral region of the female anatomy that some how has mystical powers. The ability to stupefy even the most articulate of men. To somehow render your money useless and start the drinks flowing freely. It's a magical and wondrous occurrence really. I know myself, have been lumped into bodacious tata categories time and time again.

My best friend Kelly is getting that power back folks. That's right. Those lovely lady lumps are coming back with a vengeance. And not only that, but her humor about it has never left.

When Kel got diagnosed with breast cancer, she was of course scared, upset, etc. Every possible emotion I could probably never even fathom all at once. But she was so undeniably poignant. She was grateful she had a cancer that was able to be removed. She had a cancer they could just lop off. Not in her bones, not in her blood, not in an organ. In a part of her body yes that made her a woman, that made her who she was, BUT that could be taken away easily.

Not that her surgery was easy by any means, but easier than had it been another form of cancer mind you. Easier than a lot of you others struggling with the vile disease have it. Sure she had chemo, and radiation. She got sick, she lost her hair, had 3rd degree burns from the radiation, but she remained herself. She had a mastectomy and she laughed the whole time. As you know, we are largely inappropriate. I mean really, the Una-boober?

So in 3 weeks, Kel gets her womanhood back. When she learned of her reconstruction and the way they do it, she didn't just look at it as another surgery. She didn't think of the grueling healing process or the 2 step process to retrieve muscle and skin and tissue from her abdomen to make the new breast. No.

She's getting a free tummy tuck and a boob job. A perky set of new cleavage ready to take on the world and get some free drinks again. Some low cut shirts and bra's that don't require people to be on prosthetic patrol.

Not only is this bitch my best friend.......she's my freakin hero.


Posted Date: : Dec 11, 2008 5:37 AM
So today Dylan's dad goes to court for the drug charges he is facing for the nightmare he has caused in mine and his sons life the past few months. It's supposedly just a pretrial, but I am hoping he finally owns up to his stupidity and pays for what he's done.

However, my faith in our lovely legal system is to be desired since in my opinion, after realizing he was a repeat offender, should have been locked up long ago.

I mean really, the DAY he was arrested with my son he had gone to yet another court house to pay fines for some erroneous charges I knew nothing about, and only heard about his after by a witness who saw him there with my kid. Lovely.

SO my poor child, 3 at the time, gets to witness a drug deal and a drug bust, guns blazing and his father get arrested. Get taken into State custody and me getting a phone call to release him. NOT a phone call a mother ever wants to get.

10 days before my poor kids 4th birthday. His father swallows 2 bags of heroin to evade an undercover officer. Classy. What a guy.

Nightmares of phone calls, leading to restraining orders and the police having filed motions with DSS against his dad, making them now present in MY Life. Loss of child support, which now had DSS to pay for Dylan's school since I no longer could.

Its been hell. And to lose my job on top of it only adds to the stress.

SO he becomes homeless, takes off to NC for a few weeks, which he wasn't supposed to do as a condition of his initial bail, but he thinks he immune to the legal system. Gets a whopping tattoo on his arm with Dylan's name on it. Funny I hadn't gotten any child support in months, but he could now afford a $500 looking tattoo.

Sorry, you can put my kids name on you any where you want, it doesn't make you father of the year. I could put Gandhi's face on my ass and I still wouldn't be a saint.

Then decides to make sure I see it when the Quincy police charge him with Reckless Endangerment of a Child. Moron.

My poor son has been the biggest victim and his self-absorbed asshole father can't even see past his own selfishness to see that. HE chose drugs over his own kid. My son was a mess after all of this, to the point he pissed himself during the incident.

He was taken by an ambulance to make sure he was ok, and into State custody. Surrounded by people he didn't know until I could get to him. He's acted out, gotten emotional without knowing why. He's 4, he doesn't understand entirely what's going on. He ran around trying to arrest people!

He wouldn't sleep, still has trouble there. I have to put the poor kid in therapy at 4 years old because his father has emotionally fucked up my kid.

Thank GOD I have a wonderful support system. My family, friends and even his father's family are wonderful people. Dylan knows he is loved and has had some stability following this mess, or lord knows how screwed up he would be right now.

His father went into rehab, and I know it was for the wrong reasons. He would BRAG about how he could beat the system. Him and his brother both (another "prize" career criminal) would say they knew the court system and what to say and do to get away with whatever. Its sad really. I know he went to rehab for himself to look better, not for actual help. He went because he was homeless and not because he was looking to be a better person.

He'll get out, have no place to go, and go right back to the junkie degenerate friends he has always had and jump right back on that band wagon. He always has. It's why I was a single mom from the get-go. And why I will never let my son be around him again.

I do not trust his judgment, I do not trust his actions, his words. He can schmooze whatever court system he wants, he can try to pretend he can be a better person, but a leopard can't change its spots. He's an addict and his choice was made clear when he chose that over the well being of his own child.

Fuck him and the needle he rode in on. I hope he finally rots in prison with a lot of time to think about how many lives he's fucked up, most importantly that of his own son.

Bad Math

Posted Date: : Sep 17, 2008 4:44 PM
There comes a moment after every traumatic event, dramatic affair, when you suddenly stop and think "How on Earth did I get here in one piece?" or "Only me, this could only happen to me". Story of life right?

That Murphy's Law in fact does not belong to said Murphy, but to me. The entire premise of "if it can go wrong..." completely affixes itself to every facet of my life at some point or another and then BANG! There it is.

Things can only go good for me for so long before a tumultuous turn for the worse takes place. And I don't do things in a mild manner no. Go big or go home right? It's not some tiny annoyance, its not some mundane idiosyncrasy that gets you down now and again, it's a culmination of things that pile up all at once, and make your emotional or mental well being seem to instantly shatter.

I should have seen it coming. It's a sick pattern in my life, like a morbid algebra equation, mapped out to come out with the answer that I must be miserable, eventually. No wonder math and I have such a hate/hate relationship.

With the events revolving around my son's father and his selfish and mindless actions that caused such turmoil in mine and my son's lives. Having my son witness at a week-shy of 4 years old, what a 4 year old should never witness. Dealing with the aftermath. The investigations, the trauma, the courts, DSS. (That's right you heard me) I did all with a straight face. I tried to at least. Tried to show that my son had one stable parent he can count on, the one who is there always, steadfast and strong. Holding everything back so as not to show any sort of fear or weakness in front of him. Children are like predators in the wild, they can detect fear. There's only so much you can hide.

Trying to be a good friend to one who has become a good friend to me in a time of need. She, going through what I had almost 2 years to the day with the loss of my father. Trying to remain casually unaffected. To be the strong supporter in her time of need. To be there. To be a friend, when it killed me. Brought back with a vengeance very ounce of distraught I felt 2 years prior. And then the anniversary. Torture.

Financial uncertainty of course, my biggest downfall in my 29 years. Yes I have in the past been my own worst enemy, but now, now after trying to hard to start to dig myself out of the hole I fell into in my youth, am afraid. I'm doing it alone. No more child support. No help. Cruel irony in making too much money to get any assistance, yet too little to survive day to day.

And then of course, the clich├ęd straw. You know that very one, the camel, it's back. The tiniest of things that compounded with my already fragile psyche can cause me to meltdown, albeit slightly, but enough to cause me to cry for no reason. But of course when no one is looking.
But who looks? Really? I think this is truly a time where I can say I have never felt so alone.

Surrounded by people yet completely detached. All things I do, I say robotic, as if I am on some sort of mental auto-pilot to fool everyone. Hiding myself. Putting the smiles on when necessary. But hiding away. Or wilting away. Becoming a shadow of my usual self.

A victim of sins of others. Past cascading in my mind over and over again. Replaying the damages done, and fearful of it happening again. Too vulnerable to not get upset by it. Baggage if you will. Not enough to make me crazy, just enough to make me overly cautious.

Or to notice the little things. The small things. Amoeba's in speech patterns. Things most people won't see. Concentrating on what isn't said over what is. A late night phone call that goes un-answered and blown off as nothing, yet not looking at the phone in front of you. Disappearing for days. Lack of communication. Feeling someone detach themselves from you. It all comes flooding back. The lies, the secrets, the hurt.

You could be exaggerating things in your head, you're too fragile to tell. But you know something isn't right. There were promises. Promises to do whatever it took to make you feel trust, to make you feel anything. And all it feels like are promises broken.

All compounded in a small time frame, all on top of each other. Some serious, some seemingly nothing, but all enough to make one not themselves. To bring you down just enough that you don't know what to do. Do you run, do you hide? Can you? What sort of twisted thoughts play in your head, that make it seem like escaping ans starting over. But it all comes back in the end.

There is no straight line. No "two roads diverged" as Robert Frost once said, no. It's circumferential, it's equatorial. You travel along life in a circle, always seeming to come back to the same point. The starting point. Things may look different for a while, but they always end up the same.

What's the point of even trying
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