Heaven help me... I have no idea what's wrong with me today.  In trying to start out the day on a positive note and working to keep myself from spending it with my head hung over the toilet, I haven't done anything so far other than take anti-nausea meds, eat a pretzel, and stay in bed.  It just doesn't seem to be working. 

I think some of it is emotional.  I mean, if reruns of "JAG" can make ya teary-eyed, you should probably stop and think about what might REALLY be causing the hysterical sobbing you feel coming on.  And no doubt most of that is coming from being just absolutely exhausted.  And I'm exhausted because I'm so mentally fatigued it's interrupting my sleep which is causing my physical ailments to be pronounced which is causing my emotions to become a gigantic train wreck... obviously it's a vicious cycle, huh. 

Everybody north of us got about two inches of snow last night.  Here, it's cold as heck, but it's bright and sunny!  (dang it)

I could blog about something worthwhile, I suppose.  My opinion of the President's State of the Union Address?  Yeah, and if you know me personally, you're laughing your ass off right now at the obsurdity of that thought.  I have an opinion on the current politics of our country.  But it'll take two shots of tequila and a nice ass to get me to share it. 

(I just deleted two paragraphs of really sarcastic political ranting, btw) 

My laptop is messed up!  My stylus pen isn't working, and I can't figure out why.  It's not making my morning go any better.  How am I supposed to journal if I can't get my pen to work?!  And I'm not in the mood to spend hours searching through support files to see what's wrong.  I guess I'll figure it out later. 

Right now I have to keep from crying over this rerun of "CSI: Miami" where one of the guys gets killed.  THIS is why I prefer SciFi.  I'm not likely to get choked up over giant killer cockroaches or aliens with three heads.

I'm going to try something different today.  I'm going to try to not only delay the mental overload I feel coming on but just completely shut it down.  This won't be easy because I have already gotten off to a rocky start.  I'm in a bad mood.  It's Monday, and I can't seem to convince my brain and body that Mondays no longer mean what they used to mean.  I will not be going in for a sixteen hour day today... at least if I put in that kind of day it won't be at an office I utterly despise. 

I got up at 5:30am.  I was going to go back to bed, but there was no point.  I would have either not gone back to sleep which would have frustrated me, or considering I slept about three hours last night I would have fallen back to sleep and slept till lunch.  And that would have frustrated me even more.  So I've showered and gotten my day under way. 

Currently I'm sitting in my kitchen at a little custom built red vinyl booth, iTunes powered up, and I'm drinking coffee... cups and cups of coffee.  This is not my normal routine.  I rarely sit in here like this alone.  It does usually end up being the focal point when a brother or sister drops by, but it's cold in this corner, so I don't normally sit here by myself.  Not to mention, the tabletop is shakey, and it gets on my nerves.  I really should just flip it over and tighten the screw.... maybe I'll do that when I'm through wasting time. 

My normal routine when I'm going to blog, surf, watch the news, anything like that would be to climb back into bed, prop up good and comfortable, grab the laptop, remote, and covers.  I didn't do that today because I was pissed off. 

Why? 

Because there were birds...  I got out of the shower a little after 7am, and there were birds.  Stupid little happy singing birds outside my bedroom window.  What the hell... 

Oh don't get me wrong, an early morning in April... hot steamy shower, blood starting to pump... greeting the new day... I can go all Snow Whitey as the next chick and have the cute little singing birds put a smile on my face... maybe even get me to humming along. 

But good gods!  It's JANUARY, and I want MY SNOW!!  Texas... TEXAS... the place I lived in hell for years, and it got that hot even in the winter.... TEXAS got snow.  You know, I think that is what's wrong with me.  I moved back here over two years ago, and I was so excited to finally be back in a place where I could feel four distinct seasons.  I was thrilled! 

I don't know what I did in my previous lives, but I must have been a real bitch... or maybe a really egotistical man or something because my karma in this life sucks.  I used to have a friend who would always laugh at me and shake his head in mock disgust when I talked about karma.  He'd just say, "You and your karma shit."  Hey... it's real. 

Speaking of him, I do miss him.  He was a great guy and an awesome bodyguard when you're my size and drunk in a Texas roadhouse.  But we were always only friends, and he always swore that was his only intention, as well.  Funny how that was... when I became romantically involved with Terry... I lost more than one male "friend".  Lying little shits... However, on a positive note... I have some very awesome male friends who are still around causing me all kinds of grief. 

I got an email from him shortly after telling him about Terry.  It wasn't exactly admitting anything, but it was way far from denying what his true intentions had been.  And then I got another email from him right before Christmas.  He's back in Iraq, and that's horrible because the first tour over there screwed him up so badly.  He's a medic and what he saw... well, he earned himself a Bronze Star for being a really stupid shit in a major fight by putting himself in danger on the field trying to single handedly come to the aid of over seventy wounded soldiers... THESE are the stories they don't tell us, guys.  I read the official papers and saw the award.  I was really proud of him, but it didn't keep me from wanting to slap him around for it.  After that tour he started drinking a lot, his anger was through the roof.  That mandatory therapy thing the military has going is a load of bull.  But in his email he told me that after really losing it over there and almost killing somone (that he wasn't supposed to kill)... he got himself together and got on some medications to help him stay in control of his emotions and actions at least until he can get home and get some real help.  Good, right?  Except now the people who love him get to worry about exactly how much this medication is numbing him.  Will he have the same reaction time if he's under attack?  Will he come back alive to get the help he needs? 

Now that's a subject that's going to hold off my mental collapse, huh.  More coffee... I have only been addicted to coffee for a few years.  I blame David for this addiction.  Years ago we were sitting in a place called The Hen House in Springfield, Illinois, and good ole David was convinced he could make a cup of coffee that I would love.  Up until that time I hated coffee.  Loved the smell of it brewing but thought it was the nastiest tasting stuff ever to be in my mouth.  (I'm not going to type where that took my mind) 

ANYWAY... he mixed and added and mixed and added and forced me to taste and taste.  I'm sorry, but it was still gross.  He likes WAY too much stuff in his.  I stuck with the hot chocolate... hours of hot chocolate because when David goes for coffee, he doesn't get in any hurry to "go" for anything else.  Even though I didn't like the coffee that day, his constant coffee cravings and witnessing the good moods cups of coffee always seemed to put him in.... when my days suddenly started at 4:30am out in Texas... I tried coffee again.  BAD BAD move.... I do like just regular coffee with vanilla cream the best.  But I'll take it any way I can get it.... in a cappucino, straight black.  I don't really care.  Starbucks sexually arouses me, and that's all I'm saying about that. 

I really need to clean this kitchen if I plan on hiding out here today.  This is a dreamy kitchen.  Huge.  Lots of counter space and get this.... NINETY-NINE cabinets.  I am not jerking ya around.  Cabinets floor to ceiling.  As Screwboy loves to point out, floor to celing, who cares... not like I can reach sixty percent of them without a stool.  And there's still a good twenty percent I can't even reach then.  But still... it's the idea of ninety-nine cabinets.... would sexually arouse me if the thought of Starbucks hadn't already done it.  Maybe someday I'll become a true southern lady and start loving the idea of big Sunday dinners and twelve course country fried breakfasts... yeah, not likely. 

See?!?!  This is what happens on Monday mornings when I wake up to stupid happy singing little birds, good drugs, and too much coffee...

Before there was a Terry... before there was a new house and all the exciting new turns one life can handle....

There was a time... a while ago... but not so long ago that I don't still feel the sting... I left the comfort of a world I had built for myself to travel half way across the country and try to save my marriage.  At that time, little did I know that all I was doing was prolonging the inevitable. 

You can't put a marriage on life support. 

It's there or it's not.  Marriages have problems, serious problems.  But even in the most serious doubt, deep inside you can still feel whether or not it's there.  It wasn't. 

So after much heartbreak and dispair, I pulled the plug, picked up the pieces, and came back home with my tail between my legs and the biggest inferiority complex known to man.  Starting comletely over with nothing that couldn't be loaded into the back of a UHAUL in two hours or less at the age of thirty-two is more than scary. 

But I had support.  There were times I didn't feel like it, but I did.  I had people who loved me and stood by me from the day I left until the day I crawled back, and they're still around. 

But this post is about someone I met after the fire.  When I moved back, I took the first job I found, the first house I found, and set in to picking myself up off the floor.  And wouldn't you know it, catastrophe from day ONE. 

In the meantime I'd met a guy who served the purpose of late night entertainment and nothing more... or so I thought.  He was hilarious... witty.... someone who had absolutely nothing serious to say... to anyone.  And that provided me with the escape I needed when the real world became too much.  But as I got to know him and we became friends, I realized I had it all wrong.  He was so much more than just my midnight mischief.  I saw how intelligent he was, and there was so much more depth and substance to him than I had realized. 

What I'm getting at is after we became really close and began to share our real worlds with one another, I knew I'd found a true treasure in his friendship.  Normally when I look back on a relationship of any kind, especially when celebrating a birthday, I focus on the fun times together.  I like to go back and think of crazy entertaining things that will always bring a smile to our faces.  But this time, I want to point out the things that put a smile on your heart. 

Now... (all this build up is for a reason).... because I met him after the meltdown, he had nothing to lose or gain by any decision I made in my life.  I truly believe a huge reason I made it through it all with most of my heart and sanity intact is because I was gifted with that honest, clear perspective with him.  Everyone else in my life had gone through the hell with me, and they were just so glad I'd made it out alive, they pushed forward, onward, no slowing down, and I was so caught up in a whirlwind and on auto-pilot. 

And all of a sudden here was the class clown standing face to face with me forcing me to think and feel things I just wanted to continue to run from.  The only person in my life brave enough to ask things like, "Are you sure?", "When you close your eyes at night, you have no regrets about it all?", "The regrets you do have, you feel you tried your best?". 

There were times he really pissed me off... But I learned the people you love the most can do that more than anyone. 

Each person in my life has blessed me with something... something unique to them.  I have no problem admitting that I would not have made it through without every single one of them.  So if you're reading this and you feel that by singling him out I'm somehow thinking less of you... you could not be more wrong. 

I just need him to know because of all the times I've fallen so very short in showing my love and appreciation, I've done it to him the most.  And of all the times I've thanked him for being who he is and standing by me, I don't believe I've ever thanked him for this... for being the strong one. 

Everyone loves him for the smile he puts on their faces.  Not often does he get credit for being the one to cancel recess and force you to face things it would take a real therapist years to dig out.  Not many people see that side of him.  The side that just simply says, "Deny it if you want, but you know you're feeling this, and you know you're going to have to deal with it." 

So today.... it's his birthday.  He won't do anything special.  He really doesn't even want to be reminded.... (cause he's older than I am.. and he will ALWAYS be OLDER than I am)... but he knows me well enough to know I'm going to do whatever I can to irritate him, just like I always do. 

So happy birthday, Jim.... whether you're wearing the big red nose, or pointing to the couch for another sixty minute session... laughing with me, crying with me, worrying about me.... every face that you wear so well.... doesn't matter, I love you dearly, because every single piece of you has healed a piece of me.

That's why I'm celebrating the birthday you don't want to remember, and that's why I'm saying thank you.

I tried.  There's no creativity coming tonight.  Not a single adjective, adverb... no metaphors... no silly little innuendos... nothing.  What's on my mind tonight is quite simple.  There are things in the dark hiding from me, and I'm perfectly happy to let them stay there.  I don't need my doubts, fears, and insecurities to find any sort of validation.  This way... if I can't be SURE... then I can dismiss it.  I can pretend there's nothing to worry about.  There's no reason to feel panicked.  Everything is fine.  The world is filled with happiness, peace, love, and understanding, right?  There's nothing lurking in the dark ready to point out all my shortcomings, my failures.  There are no unspoken statements just waiting to be mouthed into declarations that I'm not enough... that I'll never be enough.  Or even worse... that I'm too much... not worth the sacrifice.  I mean, more times than not, that's the case.  I just get to be too much.  Don't they know if I could change it, I would?  If someone can tell me how... just tell me how.

"  I live. I breathe. I let it rain on me. I sleep. I wake. I try hard not to break. I crave. I love. I've wated long enough. I try as hard as I can.

I laugh. I feel. I make believe it's real. I fall. I freeze. I pray down on my knees. I hope. I stand. I take it like a man. I try as hard as I can.

Am I not pretty enough? Is my heart too broken? Do I cry too much? Am I too outspoken? Don't I make you laugh? Should I try it harder? Why do you see right through me?"

I was raised by a very loving Southern Baptist Democrat.  And although there was always just a touch of "watch yourself because they'll stick it to ya if you don't", and "everything is unfair... trust no one" being fed to me on a daily basis, I was still taught that justice is justice, and it will always prevail. 

Boy was I sheltered.  I guess in my heart I've always convinced myself that the world really is pretty and blue, and things really will always work out just like they're supposed to work out.  Again... quite sheltered. 

Why this rant? 

While trying not to bore the two people who normally read my blog, just let me say that instead of spending my evening yesterday and the morning and afternoon today relaxing and trying to feel better, I've spent the time crying, puking, and just all around freaking out.  All the while not quite believing these things really are happening.  I mean, they happen to other people.  They happen to guests of Jerry Springer, but they don't happen to my family. 

You guys know the history.  After ten years of not knowing about his son, my brother found him, met him, and obtained full custody of him from his drug addict, abusive, psycho mother... who had, more than once, left him in homeless shelters. 

D has been absolutely thriving over the past few months.  His mental, emotional, and physical health are all being seen to and cared for, and he's a different kid than the one we were introduced to back in the summer. 

But his mother, wanting to be the bitch that she is, refuses to do what's right for him by cleaning herself up and possibly becoming the mother he needs.  Instead, she's constantly doing everything in her lying manipulative power to cause problems.  And it's working! 

How is it that a man, after already proving himself to be the better parent, having in his possession sworn statements from police officers stating situation was witnessed by said officers and all accusations are false... how is it that someone can literally swear out an arrest warrant, present it to a judge, and have someone arrested with no proof of anything!  All the while, this judge has been notified, it's all fake!? 

Judge's answer to problem?  She has to act upon the warrant and let it play out, anyway.  And then everything will be dismissed and set straight at trial.  She even went as far as to say that once it's all fixed, my brother should turn the tables and bring charges against the bitch.  Sounds fine, right?  Just red tape... paperwork? 

EXCEPT, if my brother has to stay in jail to wait this out, social services gets my nephew!  He's not allowed to stay in his house, in his comfort zone with his stepmother and sister.  He's not allowed to stay with blood relatives like a grandmother or an aunt.  (yeah, if they can find him... whatever)  And do NOT send me email about obeying laws, patience, having faith in the justice system, or anything else equally dumb.  I'll just delete it. 

You wouldn't believe some of the things this woman has done in recent weeks if I took the time to tell you.  Just keep an imagine of a stringy-haired skillet-licking redneck on the stage of Jerry Springer, and you've got it. 

So where is my pretty blue world where the thick black distinctive line separates good and evil?  Where they guys in the white hats always win?  What happens when someone takes away your rose colored glasses and shatters them underneath their feet? 

So here I am, the woman who has always liked to play with sarcastic wit and dry humor all the while truly believing the world is wonderful... suddenly seeing things for what they really are.. cruel, unjust, and evil.  And that realization is what has been in my heart and on my mind since last evening. 

What if it doesn't leave?  What if I become the dried up, bitter, echo person I've always feared I might someday become?  Who do I pray to?  The fates, God, gods, goddesses, the lamp beside my bed... who do I pray to and ask a favor on behalf of my nephew? 

If I have a blessing coming my way, maybe the lamp will see fit to pass it on to my nephew and brother instead.  I'm a strong girl, I can take it better than they can. 

That, and it will keep me from finding her and kicking her skanky ass and ending up in jail myself.

Has it been forever, or what?  I planned to write a very warm and moving Christmas post.  I knew exactly what I needed to write about my parents' thirty-sixth anniversary.  I spent days thinking of what I wanted to say to celebrate my dad's birthday.  I just knew I'd come up with something witty and loving for Bella's, too.  And I had a very thoughtful reflective post for the new year. 

Yeah... right. 

The holidays were such a whirlwind of stress, chaos, happiness, and exhaustion I'm still amazed I made it through.  I'm amazed I'm still sane.  (Some would argue that point.)  All in all I believe I had a happy holiday season.  It was the first in the new house.  It was also the first I didn't worry so much about finances.  And of course it was my first one with Terry.  I've never been with someone who enjoys the holidays as much as I do, and it was such a wonderful experience.  Nothing, and I do mean absolutely nothing went the way we planned it.  If I told you about it, you'd wonder how we survived.  But we did, and it was wonderful.  We laugh about things now, and that has to mean something good. 

As for the new year... let's just say I'm glad I'm still here in it.  (I'm being positive.)  I don't make resolutions.  Never have.  I don't believe in setting myself up for failure, and besides, if I'm going to do something to better myself and my life, I'll do it when I'm ready... new beginning in a new year or not.  

I can't seem to gather my thoughts these days.  They come and go so quickly I have no time to organize them into words. 

I was mad at screwboy a few days ago for blogging about me... implying I have some sort of OCD... making me sound like a complete loon.  I was mad, that is, until I realized he's right.  What brought me to my senses?  His hysterical laughter, with drugs in hand, right after he caught me hurling suitcases all the way down the stairs to the basement.  I'm still not completely sure how they got from the billiard room, to my hands, to the stairs.  I only vaguely remember that they were getting on my nerves because they had been in my way for days.  I'm just really happy he wasn't here today when I fought with the shelving in the bathroom for three hours.  I won, and that's all that matters, right? 

So I'm extreme sometimes.  I'm a passionate person! 

If I made resolutions maybe I'd vow to be a more calm and collected person this year. 

But where's the fun in that?