I should rename my blog.....FAIL blog.

Well, here I am again, after another near two months of being gone.  I'm thinking this isn't working so well.  Thanks to everyone that still keeps me in their feed even though nothing's been showing up.  It seems like just when I decide to do better, all hell breaks loose.

I'm sitting here on the couch in the dark for the most part, watching my daughter sleep.  She broke up with the bad boyfriend today.  She knew it needed to be done, but it breaks my heart to see her hurting and she is.  Regardless of what he's done to her, she loves him as a person if not a soulmate and it's hurting her to see him crying and begging for her to change her mind. 

I'm peripherally involved in a solicitation to commit murder case, and by peripherally, I mean being close to the person currently in prison being held without bond.  It's a nasty mess and I'm terrified it's going to end even worse than I'd hoped which will impact the life of someone I love dearly in a way I'm not sure she can come to terms with.

We survived prom and the Kitty Princess' graduation from high school.  She's been accepted into VCU Arts which is a major accomplishment, so now all that's left is to get her driving at last so she doesn't have to get dropped off at college like a kindergartener on her first day.  That'd be funny in an odd kind of way.

There's hope out there, and trust me I'm not complaining, things could be so much worse, some of YOU are going through things so much worse, but as much as I love my blog, my heart just isn't in it right now.  I hope that will change soon, or even later, as long as it changes.  Until then, I guess I'll be randomly missing for random unknown lengths of time, just wanted to pop in and write a little bit for those of you I haven't talked to in ages.  I feel like singing the wolfpack song.  "You're the ten best friends that anyone could have, you're the ten best friends that anyone could have."  I think just that statement sums up my pathetic state of mind at the moment huh?  Laaaaaaame.  ;)

Hope everyone is having a great summer, I think maybe tomorrow I'll finally try to find the energy to level out a spot for my pool and try to get it filled up so me and the Kitty Princess can spend a few lazy days floating around staring up at the sky and just being besties.  I love that.

If I'm gone too long, will you still remember me?

It's been three months now.  I never intended to be gone so long, and I'm not sure exactly why I have been.  I've thought about it, worried about it, stressed about it, but in the end, I can't apologize because I have no excuse really. 

I know I've mentioned before the whole "getting overwhelmed" thing and I know that has something to do with it.  It seems like with every year that passes, my focus and concentration slips a little more.  I'm sure it has something to do with age, but I'm REALLY missing the Ritalin and Adderall too.  I mean reeeeeally missing them.  I haven't written a word in three months.  Not here, not a novel, not poetry, nothing.  The last time I was here, I made a vow to myself that I'd catch up on everything.  Told myself I'd go back and read everything, would reply to all my comments, post awards that some lovely people had given me, the whole nine yards, but......

I was seriously overwhelmed.   There were so many great comments, so many things I wanted to read that I let it get too big in my head, and when that happens, it's like trying to vacuum at a landfill.  You don't know where to start and know it'll never get done, so you put it on the back burner.  Procrastinate.  Promise you'll do it later.  Three months later.  Give or take.

It's been the same here with life I guess.  So much has been going on I feel totally incapable of dealing with it all sometimes.  When my disability was approved (at last) we finally had some money to do the stuff we've been needing to do for the past five years.  The house needed some work done, the yard needed a LOT done, there were bills to catch up, things I'd been putting off for my daughter because we just couldn't afford it.  She's 18 and still doesn't have her drivers license because we couldn't afford to add her to our insurance.  Her fees for school were past due and we'd gotten the letter "pay or she doesn't graduate".  We were waiting for her to find out if she'd been accepted at the college she applied to, and it went on and on and on.

Finally, maybe, just maybe, the disability award was some kind of psychological vidication for me.  I've been sleeping about 20 hours a day.  I'm sure that it has something to do with it.  Years and years of people thinking the worst of me, and me pushing myself to be and do what people thought I should be doing, and finally I've got something that says "SEE?  I was serious, I DO have a sleeping disorder!" 

Anyway, I've decided the only way I can come back and be like I used to be is to put the past in the past.  I'm sorry if anyone has felt like I've let you down or disappointed you, sorry if anyone has been upset that I haven't stopped by or posted, I love you all, you've all been so good to me, so positive and uplifting and such wonderful friends, that I hope that's not the case.  I'm going to make a real effort to make this blog what it used to be, to pick up where I left off and yes, to update everyone with what I have been up to the past three months. 

I'm anxious to find out what everyone else has been up to as well, and I think I'm going to be a little less strict on myself.  I'm starting slow, it's summer and I've got my wonderful family to spend quality time with, walks to take, pools to lounge beside, shopping to be done, cookouts to have, friends to visit, and cats, oh yes, lots and lots of cats to find homes for now.  It was a cold, cold, cold winter apparently and I've got sixteen little bundles of cute as a freaking button to show for it.

I hope you'll still remember me, hope you'll stop by and say hi every now and again, and know that I didn't stop thinking about you guys at all.

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Thirteen

I was prepared to write a letter to Three Days Grace, or Rascal Flatts, but then it hit me, although it's been a long time, I needed to write the letter to Mark Hall of Casting Crowns.  I was in church my entire life until about four years ago and haven't been since.  That doesn't mean God isn't real to me or that I don't still spend time thinking about my relationship with him.

Dear Mark,

It's been a long time since I really listened to your music.  I have to admit I've gone astray, into the music of other genres.  Three Days Grace, Buckcherry, Aerosmith, Flogging Molly, The Cure, The Black Crowes, Better than Ezra, etc.  Actually when I got ready to start this letter, it was going to be to Adam Gontier of Three Days Grace, but then I remembered sitting in the car in the WaWa parking lot, listening to your first cd, a song called Praise You In This Storm.  By the time Kevin got back to the car, I was crying like crazy.  I don't remember ever being moved like I was by that song.  Maybe it was just that time in my life, but for months I listened to that cd over and over again, and every single track, and I do mean EVERY track meant something to me.

When we started our youth group at church, we named them The Voice of Truth after yet another song on that album.  I've still got tee shirts with the name and logo on them even though it's a distant memory now.  The group, the church, and the kids.  That cd helped get me through what I can only describe as hell.  A time in my life that I truly felt like everything was falling apart, a time when I wondered if I'd make it out the same person I was when it started.

Thank you for being there when I needed you, for writing the music that may have literally saved my sanity if not my life.  I used to tell everyone I ran into about you and your music, the story behind how Casting Crowns came to be, such an inspirational story to be true, but I have to apologize that it's been a long long time since I've had the heart to listen again.  Today marks the first day in a long time, and I think now I'll be coming back to you, so thanks again.

Love,
Donna

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Eleven & Twelve

I'm going to lie and say I'm putting these together simply because it works instead of admitting that I couldn't for the life of me remember which day was which after I JUST read them to find out what I"m posting today.

All about compliments.

What do I get complimented most on, and what no one ever compliments me on.

This is kinda difficult because usually you can find me in my jammies with my cow slippers on holed up in the house like the crazy cat lady that I am.  Needless to say I'm not famous enough for the paparazzi to be camped out on my deck so they can snap pictures of the newest pj pant design, or write articles about the sorry state of my cow slippers of late.  They're old, you can't blame them for the parts that are supposed to be inside the slipper finding their way to the outside, or for the fact that their ears look more like Yoda than a cow these days. No one has found the need to mention that my roots are more gray then red, or that my makeup isn't quite up to par.

As you guys have drummed into me, at my whining prompt I might add, is that I'm a writer.  Until I've reached the best seller list, pretty sure no one cares what I look like and by then, I might decide to write under a pseudonym and use Brian's (nuclearheadache & the encyclopedia of counted sheep) picture for the back cover.

With that said, the thing I get complimented on the most is my writing.  Granted it's usually from people who love me, or at least find me somewhat amusing, so like I always do, I take it with a grain of salt, but it makes me feel better anyway.

What I never get compliments on?  Everything else.

No, I'm kidding, kinda.  The rarely leaving the house thing comes in here.  Maybe one day I"ll get out of bed and do some sit ups so I can post hot pictures like Eschelle's (Mumfection & The Little Fat Girl That Could) pinup photo.

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Ten

I might be wrong about this, but I've racked my brain and ugh.....

Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn't know.

I can't think of a soul.

Everyone in my life I think has been there for a reason.  I've learned things, both good and bad through every relationship or acquaintance I've ever had.  There's no one I need to let go, and the people I might wish I didn't know I have no contact with, so it doesn't really matter.  I'm not sure if it's good or bad that I don't have an answer for today, but I just don't.

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Nine

Since I'm feeling a bit better today, and because I'm finding that I've lost quite a few followers throughout my away time which makes me terribly sad, I'm going to try to catch up here a little bit.  So to get the show on the road, here we go.  Day Nine.

Someone you didn't want to let go, but just drifted.

There have actually been quite a few of these, I think another side effect of my sleeping disorder.  In some ways it's a lot like depression, or maybe it's the depression that is a side effect of the disorder, I don't know.  It's hard to force myself to do things sometimes.  Well, a lot of times.  I don't call people like I should, I mean to send cards and keep in touch and time just keeps passing and then I feel like it's ridiculous to try to regain something that's slowly slipping away.  I'm actually in that place right now with one person even as we speak.

The first was one of my best friends.  We worked together at the grocery store, were literally inseparable, and then we got married.  Had kids and had disagreements about how to best be a Mom.  She didn't understand why I couldn't drive out the hour to her house and just let Kitty sleep on the way there and back.  I was a "When it's bedtime, Kitty gets her crib" kinda Mom.  No driving around all hours of the night with her sleeping in the car seat.  Go figure huh?  A narcoleptic obsessed over her infants sleeping habits.  Oh well.  I haven't spoken to or seen her in years and some day?  I wish I'd done things differently, wish I'd kept in touch.  Other days, I'm just thinking that it's a two way street and what's meant to be will always be.

The next, oddly enough was family.  My cousin.  We grew up almost six hours apart, but with parents who can't drive it seems a lot farther.  We visited during the summers and sometimes they spent time with us during the summer.  We were like sisters until boys came along.  I guess that's no surprise.  She didn't want to leave her boyfriend of the moment to come to Richmond for a week, so we spent less and less time together.  Then we got married, had kids six months apart.  Then she went through a series of divorces, moved around a lot, things got difficult and well, now I haven't talked to or seen her in probably 10 years.

The last one?  I'm halfway trying to keep it from happening, but I think it's at the stage that it's almost inevitable.  I've mentioned that I roleplay.  For two years, I roleplayed with this person, and for two years we created one of the most intense, most realistic relationships I think you can in writing.  I devoted so much time and energy in the writing it was like an extension of myself.  I know at the time that it was something I NEEDED.  To create something that was perfect because my life had fallen apart.  No job, health sucking, no money, seemingly no hope.  When we wrote, all that disappeared and this miraculous story unfolded.  Unfortunately, people do what the need to do when they need to do it, and sometimes, it's to fill a void.  I don't know if that was the case for her, but after two years, she found other things and stopped writing.  We tried to keep in touch on facebook, and we still talk, although it's rare.  I think I still feel hurt that she walked away the way she did, even though I can't blame her for it.  I don't know, I don't want us to ever NOT be friends, but right now it just feels so distant and I miss those days when we talked every day and shared so much together.

And that my friends, is the end for now.   Another day, another truth.

Yours truly,

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Eight

One person who has made your life hell or treated you like shit.....

I'd planned on doing better here, promised I wasn't going to skip anymore days, but this one kinda threw me.  Am I saying that no one has been that "mean girl" to me?  That no one has treated me badly?  Oh no, quite the reverse actually, I'm stuck wondering who has caused me the MOST hell.  Who should be immortalized in the blogosphere for being a petty, jealous, infantile, selfish, mean spirited douchebag?

Would it be the group of kids who started the rumor that I was pregnant when I was sixteen and so naive I really didn't even know what sex was all about?

The principal who insisted I cheated on a test and made me take the whole class over again, who constantly rode me for every single little thing when there were only FIVE people in our graduating class?  The same woman who was consistently offering insults camouflaged in concern to me and my family?

Or maybe it was my BEST friend who stood by and pretended to sleep while I was raped?

The group of guys I worked with who had a $500 bet on who would get me to sleep with one of them first?

The owner of the shop where my Dad was electrocuted and died who played on the innocence and grief of me and my Mother to get out of paying us what his life was worth?

Maybe it was the human resources manager at the healthcare facility where I worked who was convinced I was mutilating myself and tried to have me committed?

Or the boss who still owes me almost $17,000 in back pay?

Maybe it's the pastor and his wife who repeatedly stabbed us in the back because of their petty jealousy?  The ones who caused my daughter to have an emotional breakdown?

Or the woman who accused me of trying to sleep with her 16 year old son because I was being a better mother to him than she could hope to be?

Ugh, I really didn't intent for this to come across as bitter because honestly?  None of them matter to me anymore at all.  Does the hurt still linger?  Mhm.  But.....I've put it behind me.  I hope anyway.  Sometimes I think I've put things behind me when in all honesty I've shoved them in the back of my mind and they come out to play when I least expect it.

What I was thinking about when I started this was something else entirely.  Look around in a bus station, a train station, an airport and what do you see?  Rarely is there anyone fighting.  More often than not, people are hugging and crying and saying their heartfelt hellos and goodbyes.  You see military families waiting impatiently for their soldier to get off that plane.  For the brother or sister or mother or father that's been gone too long to finally appear.  For the husband or wife or lover that you've missed more than you thought possible so you can feel their arms around you again.

When tragedy strikes, the cell lines jam with people checking on loved ones, hoping against hope that the person THEY love will pick up the phone and tell them everything's okay.

Go to the hospital and tell me what you see?  No one's fighting.  They're praying, hoping, pleading, rejoicing, sobbing, laughing, experience the gamut of emotions that have little to do with hatred.

I guess what I"m getting at is in the END, there's no room for hatred, or hard feelings.  There's only a certain number of days allotted to us all, and I've decided that I don't have the time or energy to waste on people who have decided they don't want or need to be in my life.   I haven't forgotten, and I'm still working on forgiving, but I'm no longer letting those people change my life.  I'm the only one who should be in charge of my life.

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Seven

Since I'm still awake, this technically counts as today, as in not yesterday which technically happened about a half hour ago.  Yup.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Day Seven - Someone who has made your life worth living.

There are too many people I could say this about.

My Mom, who has always been an inspiration to me.

My Dad, who even after he was gone, always left me wanting to be more like he'd been.

My Husband who has never given up on me no matter how psycho I've gotten.

Honestly though, if I HAVE to pick one, it would have to be the one any mother would choose.

My daughter.

I've never been one to keep up with periods.  I figure they're bad enough when they come, they don't deserve to be scheduled.  The day I realized it had been a couple of months since I had one, I actually remembered the night that made me stop having them.  One of those "You're kidding me????  Really?" moments of clarity after the fact.

I had pretty much decided I didn't want to have kids.  I don't really do that well with them until they're into tattoos and piercings and talking about grown up stuff.  Not that I don't like them or anything, I've just never really been into hanging out with the wee ones.  I do okay with them when I am with them, but well, you know what I mean.

I'm not revealing anything my husband doesn't already know so don't feel bad for him.  My first thought was pure terror.  I was pregnant.

For three solid months I cried.  I was horrified.  I didn't really want to be pregnant at all.  That changed the very first time I felt that little life inside me move.  A single push against my stomach and I was in love.  My pregnancy (other than the tears) was picture perfect.  No morning sickness, no missed sleep, I only gained 19 pounds which I lost three of with the flu the week before she was born.  Eating was no problem because all I wanted was watermelon, popsicles and white grapes.  Perhaps that's WHY I only gained 19 pounds, or maybe it was because my german doctor threatened to not deliver the baby if I gained over 25, who knows.

Labor was a little bit of a different story, but I won't go into it here.

From the moment that little girl was born, she became my life.  I started striving to be a better person because I was HER mother, and I wanted to be everything that would make her proud.  What I didn't know then was that it didn't matter to her what I did for a living, what I looked like, or anything else.  She loved me for being me and that in itself was a lesson in love.

Watching her grow, seeing her mature into the beautiful young woman she is today has been worth anything to me.  She's my best friend, the coolest person I know.  Through a bout of depression that had me thinking of suicide, even though I'm pretty sure I'd never go through with it, thinking about her would draw my thoughts to better things.  Every day with her has been my own miracle.  She inspires me, motivates me, makes me laugh, makes me cry, makes every day a new adventure and I love her so damn much I can't imagine now having never had her.  Never experiencing the "uppy, uppy" or "do it again, do it again!" or "little bear's over, nappy time", never fighting with her to get rid of her pacifiers, it's all just unfathomable now.  I'm a mother.  I made a beautiful little person (with some help of course!) and in turn that little person has made me a better person.

Now with her being an adult, getting ready to graduate and start college, there's just as much to look forward to, even if it's different than the pretty little smiles over the sides of her crib.  It just goes to show that being a mother never changes, just the experiences that go along with it.  Once a mother, always a mother, and that my friends, makes every single day of my life worth living.

And now, the mandatory Mommy Pride option.  Pictures.  The Kitty Princess.

With my Grandfather, 1995

Horse Show, 1999

One of my fave pics of her ever.

And now I'm done.  Thanks for ooooh'ing and aaaaaah'ing appropriately.  :)

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Six

I've missed a lot of days, but I don't really feel like I'll be doing any of us any favors by trying to make them all up, instead I'm getting back into the routine and will hopefully this time post once a day until we're done!  I love this project, even the hard ones because it's always important to look inside every once in a while.  It gets to the point when we get so busy with our lives, taking care of families, or jobs, or whatever we do on a daily basis, that we forget to invest time in ourselves.  So, with that said here we go.

Day Six - Name something you hope you never have to do.

I think this will probably be the same for most everyone.  Having lost my Father at a very young age, I remember vividly how hard it was, how hard it still is sometimes.  Some days I miss him so much I still break down in tears just thinking about him.  Little things will remind me of times we spent together.  Things like a pair of white jeans make me recall what I was wearing the last time I saw him, driving by 7-11 makes me remember the long bike rides we used to take when he'd stop and get me a slurpee on the way home.  Hardees brings to mind the times we all walked to the grocery store as a family and he used to let me ride on his shoulders.  I keep a photograph of him on my coffee table, and every time I see it, it just hurts that he missed so much of my life.  He never got to see his granddaughter, wasn't at my wedding, didn't see me graduate from college, or get my first full time job.

I think you all see where I'm going with this.  My mom remarried a year after I got married and my stepdad is an amazing man.  He's the closest I'll ever come to my father, and I love him with all my heart.  I have another family with him, a different one, but he's as much family as if we shared blood.  I hope that I never have to go through losing someone so close to me again, never having to say goodbye to a parent or a member of my family, never have to make another cemetery a ritual visit.  I know it's not realistic, we can't all live forever, but if I could hope for anything at all that I never had to do again, that would be it.

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Five

I've been a little surprised how easily the answers to this exercise have come so far.  With all the soul searching I've been doing lately, this is probably a harder question to answer than the others simply because there is so MUCH I want to do.

Day Five - Something you hope to do in your life.

As most of you guys have figured out I'm definitely a glass half full kinda girl.  Sometimes so much so as to be a bad thing, if that's possible.  People ask all the time what's the purpose of life, what's their own purpose in the world.  Me?  I'm happy just living my life.  My purpose is to just live.  To make the most out of every day and go to bed with no regrets.  Usually that's easy for me to do.  I don't worry about much, I don't let a whole lot get under my skin.  I'm generally laid back enough to make carpets jealous.  

There are however way more things I'd hope to do in my life than you're likely to sit here long enough to read, but I'm going to try and keep it short.  I'm sticking with things that *I* am capable of making happen to limit the list.

1.  I hope to one day be a published author, and wouldn't mind a spot on the bestseller list, but I'd be fine either way.

2.  I hope to one day say that I've accomplished all my adrenaline rushes and lived through them.

3.  I hope to take my Mom on another vacation to Tennessee.

4.  I hope that by the time my life is over, I've been able to say that I've seen all the places I wanted to visit.

5.  I hope that there will be a long list of people who I've had a positive impact on, people who will remember something I've done or said that has made a significant impact on their life and changed something for them for the better.

I think I'll stop right there, that's a pretty significant list when you think about it, so I should probably get cracking.  Until tomorrow......

PS.  I'm still not really back to posting on a regular schedule or visiting my beautiful blog friends as I'd like, the situation with my daughter has gone from bad to worse.  She's staying with the boyfriend despite my begging and pleading.

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Four

So, just about anything has to be better than yesterday right?  Here we are at day four and the topic is:

Something you have to forgive someone for.

Wow, another long story I'm afraid, so here goes.

Quite a few years ago my husband and I were deeply involved in church.  The church we were going to was a small one and my husband felt called into the ministry.  We spent a year of our lives going to Roanoke, VA every month for a weekend to attend classes to get our credentials, studied hard and worked our butts off to make it through the class.

At the time we were serving as volunteer youth pastors at the church.  We had about 15 kids that we adored more than almost anything.  They loved us as well.  We took them all to Tennessee two different years for a huge event called Winterfest and we loved our ministry, our kids, our calling.  We named the group The Voice of Truth from lyrics from the band called Casting Crowns.

I won't go into a lot of details, but things started going wrong.  Kids confided in us and we were bound by their confidence to stay silent as long as the things they divulged weren't things that were a threat to the kids themselves or to anyone else.  Things like losing virginity, smoking, drinking, etc.  Parents started worrying about the bond that we were forging with their kids and some started causing problems for us.  I had parents trying to force me into telling them if their daughters were virgins or if their kids were sneaking out and drinking.  I kept my vow to the kids and refused to tell the parents.  My feeling was that I was in a position to help these kids and if they couldn't trust me, well, they wouldn't come to me any more.  I stand by that belief now as much as I did then no matter what the cost was or is.

At the time my daughter was about 12.  She wasn't allowed to participate in the youth group since she wasn't a teenager but we tried to make up by spending time doing things with her outside of the church setting.  Kitty has always been a great kid, as much then as now.  Her best friends also went to the church and some of them were involved in the series of events that followed.

In the end, there was a huge bout of nastiness and the parents that were involved lashed out at my daughter instead of bringing their hatred and jealousy to me directly.  There was a woman in particular, a woman of power in the church who should have been held to higher standards.  Should have been ashamed of herself for what she said and did to my daughter, but she wasn't.  She kept her stance and we ended up leaving the church, and my daughter?  Well, she pretty much had an emotional meltdown.

We tried another church after that and again there was a parent that undermined me and my family, based on her claim that "I'm the parent, you're not supposed to be closer to my child than I am."  It's odd really, because I'm not a huge fan of kids.  My daughter wouldn't have even been around were it not for an oopsie, but for some reason I have the ability to get close to teenagers.  Maybe because I'm not condescending or judgmental or maybe just because I listen and don't spout off a bunch of rules and lectures and such.  I thought I was doing the right thing, but in the end, it was my daughter and my husband who paid the price for it.

Those two "mothers" caused irreparable damage to my child.  Emotionally, mentally, spiritually.  She now thinks that it's okay to be treated badly because "role models" in her youth did it to her.  Same as yesterday I suppose, I know I should forgive them, maybe I have in some respect, but then again, maybe not.  And again, not sure I want to.  There is a reason they call me Mama Kitty, when it comes to my child, I'm no less fierce than one.

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Three

I knew going into this that there would be things that I wasn't quite sure I was ready to share with the public.  It's actually been good that my break came when it did, because it gave me a chance to work things through in my head.  I'm not sure how many people in my life know about what I'm about to write about, so you're finding out before a lot of my friends and family as well.

Day Three - Something you have to forgive yourself for.

I've lost track of the time, years, dates, etc. but when I was in my early twenties I was dating this guy off and on. I was attracted to him, but he was considerably younger than I was so I really didn't commit to a relationship with him for that reason.  While we were going out, he decided he was going to join the Marines.  We wrote during the eight weeks of boot camp, kept in touch, and he came home and found out he was being stationed at Virginia Beach.  We're only about an hour, maybe hour and a half from there and me and my best friend at the time often went to the beach for the day.

I don't remember how the plans came together, but my girlfriend and I went down to the beach for the weekend so that I could visit this guy off base.  We had a good night, went out, ate, walked the boardwalk and that's when things went off plan.

I learned very quickly that even after eight weeks in the Marines, a short time really, people change.  The sweet young guy I used to know had changed.  Something I didn't find out until it was too late.  My girlfriend pretended to be asleep while I was raped.  I don't remember what happened after that, I think I was in shock, I don't remember him leaving, don't remember falling asleep, but I woke up in the hotel room with blood staining my bed and my girlfriend asleep in the other bed.  I'd been a virgin before that.

I didn't talk to him anymore after that.  Pretty sure he knew I didn't want to see him.

I shoved it all into the back of my mind and went on with my life.

For a while.

I found out I was pregnant at five months.  I was naive, didn't keep up with my periods because I'd never had to.  Time passed and I got to thinking it had been a while.  Hoping that it was just because what had happened because it'd be impossible to get pregnant from just one time like that right?  The first time especially.  I don't remember crying, or planning, or anything.  I remember going to some friends to borrow the money for an abortion.  I remember scheduling it under an alias.  I remember laying there and for some reason, the doctor who did the procedure telling me it had been a girl.  WHY?  Why would he tell me that?

I might have been okay if he hadn't.  Probably not though.  I'd always been against abortion, but our church, well, my Mom was seriously involved in church and I was scared.  I had no real friends to talk to about it, I didn't want to talk to my girlfriend who I was pretty sure knew what was happening and hadn't done anything to stop it.  I figured since I'd been raped it would be okay.  I didn't want to have HIS baby.  I didn't want anything to do with him, or anything to tie me to him.  So I did it.

I still wake up in the middle of the night hearing a baby crying sometimes.  I dream about her all the time.

And I don't know that I'll ever forgive myself, or if I even want to.

Are you sure I'm the oldest?

Hello everyone! I'm Sarah the Writer from This Writer's Journey. Donna asked me to finish up her week of guest bloggers here at Write Now Write Later (well, technically, I asked, but she agreed). I had a ton of ideas floating through my head, but most of them sounded more like me venting, which I can do on my own blog. So I chose to talk about me and my brothers instead.

I'm the oldest of 3 kids. But you wouldn't know it. Both boys are taller than me (one more than the other). But that's the "outside" reason. The "inside" reason is because I'm shy, quiet, and introverted; they are not. I kind of hang back in a crowd of people I don't know, waiting for someone to see me alone and come talk to me and they - well, I'm not really sure what they do. They go to parties with friends and I don't, so I have no clue. But they probably find a group of guys and start talking sports.

You know those research results in the news and online and the books that talk about how the oldest sibling is the leader, the middle sibling is the mediator, and the youngest is the manipulator? Yeah, well, the writers and researchers didn't observe my family. Granted, some of findings are true: I can be a people pleaser and perfectionist at times; Mr. Baseball (as I recently began to call my middle brother on my blog) is independent and spends a lot of time with his friends; and Mr. Technology (my youngest brother) is social and loves to have a good time (he's 19 - do the math). But I still feel like they got those studies wrong. I often feel like I'm left out since Mr. Baseball is somewhat of a baseball prodigy (more minor leagues and men's league than the majors) and Mr. Technology wasn't a fan of high school, which lead to bad grades and lots of attention, and is somewhat of the technology expert in our family. Then there's me: the writer who wasn't symphony material as a flute player and Championship material as an Irish dancer. Not exactly attention-grabbing, even though my parents still went to my band concerts and dance recitals as often as Mrs. Baseball's games. Still, I was never asked to be in a tryout-only symphony or dance school.

Mr. Baseball and I have grown tolerant of each other over the years. Well, more than tolerant, but less than friends. We get along fairly well. Except when the topic of movies comes up. He's convinced that Will Ferrel movies are the best and that I'm missing out just because I've only seen Elf and Anchorman, the latter after his insistence last year (which he ironically didn't watch with us). We have our good moments and bad moments, both of which include teasing. And we still have our own lives.

Mr. Technology is a different story. My main beef with him has ALWAYS been my love of country music vs. his love of rap. And I mean LOVE. He's one of those rap fans who cranks up the volume and bass. It's as if there's this rule that you have to do that when listening to rap. The one rule he willingly follows. Fortunately, he doesn't crank it up when I'm sleeping. You see, he often stays up until 2 or 3 am, and my bed (and bedroom) is on the other side of the wall as our main desktop PC, which he uses often. So at least he's respectful about one thing.

The boys also were on my side a couple years ago when my roommate was disrespectful and inconsiderate to me (read more about it here). Mr. Technology even wanted to help me do some sort of physical harm to her (I'm too nice for that, though). It was nice to have that backup, even though it didn't really lift my attitude towards the situation.

So there ya have it: me and my two younger brothers. Three different personalities, one family. I mostly did this topic to talk about how the research on birth order doesn't apply to everyone. At least not from my experience anyway. Anyone agree or disagree with this?

Have a blessed Sunday y'all!

My Best Friend - Who is not a dog.

So once again, I’m posting on my wife’s blog.  I did Refusing To Grow Old Gracefully yesterday.  If you missed that post, or haven’t visited her other blog, check it out.  You won’t be sorry.

Since this is primarily the blog she started to blog about writing, I am going to just tell a little story.

Let me tell you about my best friend.  For the purpose of this post, his name will be Frank.  Now I’ve known Frank for over 10 years now and easily say I know a lot about him, and him me.  He is, after all, my best friend.  When he moved back to our area (after moving away for a short time for his job), he had me pick out the house he was going to buy.  I tell you this just to establish how close we are.

Now Frank is truly one thing, and he is very successful at it.  That one thing is: Computer Nerd.  In fact, he has made being a computer nerd into a career and gets paid to be himself.  He can make your computer do things you had no idea a computer could do.  He can make your computer wash, dry, fold, and put away your laundry.  When it comes to computers?  Genius.

However, keep in mind that technology advances quickly.  Not to mention that Intel has decided to release new processors every 2 months.  So to keep up, he has to pretty much stay immersed in the grid. Kinda like Tron, but not.  This doesn’t leave a lot of times to learn to do other things.

Example?  Recently, he discovered steam coming out from under his hood. He asked someone to look at it and they did, giving him some ideas of what could be wrong.  Frank looked at him, and said: “You don’t understand.” Frank then pointed at the engine in his vehicle.  “That thing there?  I know it’s an engine, but I’m not really sure what it’s for.”

Or how about when he has to replace a light switch in his home, built in the 80’s?  He can turn a screw, because computers have screws.  But he couldn’t tell you what type of switch he needs.  He has to take it out of the wall, travel to Home Depot, find someone, and tell them “I need one of these”.

He isn’t totally helpless when it comes to doing some of his own work or repairs.  Recently, his garbage disposal broke.  He went to Lowes to buy a new one, then got into an argument with the guy there because the guy couldn’t believe Frank wanted to hire someone to replace the old with the new.  But, he did do it himself.  His stepdaughter watched the whole process.  No doubt just waiting for him to give up or fail, because HER father is one of those guys who can do anything with his hands.  Once Frank was done, and it worked (the first time I might add), she was like “WOW! How did you DO that?” With a perfectly straight face, he looked at her and said, “eh, it was easy.”  Now you know one of the reasons we are so close.  We have the same sense of humor.

He usually doesn’t get a lot of grief when it comes to not being able to do his own repairs.  Partly because he such a charming, witty and easy going guy.  The rest of it?  Mostly because when someone’s computer is being hinky, they know who to call.

One more important aspect about Frank, but one we don’t share.  Like I said, he is charming and witty.  Easy going.  Things I’m not.  But he also is just such a nice guy, he likes everyone.  And everyone likes him.  Any day of the week, you can go to a club or bar where he is at, and he will literally be SURROUNDED by people.  Most of them women, who would snatch him up if he wore leather pants and drove a Harley, and also treated them bad.  Women are weird that way I guess.

So that my friends, is MY best friend.  I think I’ll go call him, see how he is doing.  How about your best friend?  What are they like?

Writers on Writing!

Guest Blogger: AubrieAnne @ http://whosyoureditor.blogspot.com/

There is ALWAYS a reason for a writer to write and, lucky for writers, there are several different ways for them to share their writing.

First off, what is your reason for writing?

I personally write because it is calming and clears the “chattering” from my head. Some days are stressful, we all know that. School was rough, the grocery store was crowded, the traffic was backed up, work was dreadful, kids are screaming, project is due tomorrow, you’re snowed in, someone is ill, pet is missing, etc. The list of stressors goes on and all you want to do is release them and do something that you enjoy. That’s why I blog and keep a journal. Other days, a story begins to manifest in your head, coming to life, introducing you to characters, screaming to be written and remembered! I call this “chattering,” when the voices in your head become so life like that they actually start talking to you inside your head. This is why I write novels and poetry.

Secondly, what are the different ways that you share your writing?

When I was younger, I used to keep a journal (which I am now picking up again.) The journal allowed e to get all of those things out that I didn’t want to share with another human being. Then, I started writing poetry and when I wanted to share them, I submitted them to a county wide magazine (Exposures published 5 of my poems and 2 pieces of artwork.) When I entered college I started taking up creative writing classes (the BEST thing that ever happened to my writing!) Soon, I was sharing my work in person with my peers. This led me to WEbook.com, an online writing community (HIGHLY RECOMMENDED! Both Donna and I are members.) And finally, that led me to blogging (another amazing milestone in my life!)

Now, what about you?

What is your reason for writing?

How do you share your writing?

Words That Inspire

Starting my blog and sharing my words has opened so many doors long slammed shut in my life. I’ve aired out some of my deepest, darkest rooms and shared the contents with whoever chooses to read. Or not...I’m not an arm-twister.

Writing is something I’ve always done. I began my college career as an English major but became sidetracked by life and then a career in the legal world. My writing took a back seat. My dreams of one day publishing a best-selling novel dissolved over time. They melted away along with my confidence and got squashed by self-doubt. I let myself believe that writing was simply the silly dream of child.

Last summer, something clicked. I was compelled, quite out of the blue, to start a blog. I really had no idea what I was going to do with it but one afternoon, while my three small children played outside the yard, I created Narragansett No. 7. It was as if someone was pushing me along-right down to the name. The whole process took perhaps an hour and I haven’t stopped since. My words keep coming. I’m finally applying for that MFA in Creative Writing and it feels right.

I happen to be a big believer in fate. People are placed in our lives for a reason. Sometimes, they have no idea at all that their words have provided encouragement. Donna is one of those people.

I have to admit, I’m nervous about guest blogging for Write Now, Write Later. Donna is a writer and I’m still not ready fully embrace that title. My words and style might not work for her readers… I think that I’m okay with that. Why? Because this afternoon while I perused her older posts, I began to realize that Donna and I share many similarities and losses in our lives.  We marvel at our aging bodies and struggle to accept this new version of ourselves. Her father passed away when she was 17, my father abandoned me when I was 11…in 1981. We have both recently shared the beginnings of our novels. Through her words she has encouraged me to accept myself. As Donna pointed out, not everyone is perfect. Not everyone will look at you (or read your words) and say, “WOW” but chances are, there is someone out there in Blogland who is getting a big boost of encouragement.  It doesn’t pay the bills, but it’s something to be proud of.

Thanks for your words, Donna. If nothing else, it’s nice to find a kindred spirit in this life.

Guest Blogger: Kelli Hadfield-Faherty at http://www.narragansettnumber7.com/

Things I love (guest post)

I was really happy when this crazy chick asked me to guest post for her and I really wanted to take an idea of hers from her thirty day thingy to really keep on track with what she was writing about, but to not focus us on things i love about myself but about my family.  We all have family that drive us crazy and sometimes it is a lot easier to focus on all the bad than it is the good.  I really love who I continue to become because of their sweet faces!

I mean look at them, who couldn't love those silly faces?!

• I love how eldest and my hubby are clean freaks.
• I love how eldest wants to take care of everyone and gives out so much love to the world.
• I love how hubby makes grilled cheeses, somehow he just has the magic touch. 
• I love how youngest mimics so well compared to eldest when he was young. 
• I love how youngest is the reincarnation of my mother... it's breath taking. 
• I love that youngest was born on the anniversary date of my mothers death, cause it made it a full circle moment for me. 
• I love when my eldest is sick and he is extra cuddly (horrible, i know lol)
• I love how I always have to sneak pictures of my hubby even if it does drive me nuts. 
• I love doing guest posts about my family (CHEAT!)
• I love playing with my kids on a cold day cause their little cheeks and noses look so cute!
• I just love how cute they all are!
• I just LOVE THEM!

It is amazing how much love you can feel for people.  It is truly one of the most remarkable of all the human emotions, as it has the power to actually dictate the choices you make and how you react to situations.  They are my source of comfort, of inspiration and I thank God everyday that I get to spend with them.  I thank God cause i have two healthy, strong and smart boys who will hopefully grow up with a sense of pride, respect and loyalty to our family.  I hope that they will turn out to be a proud examples of men, who treat others with kindness, stand up for the weak and treat their women how they deserve to be treated, as givers of life.

With all my love and best wishes xoxoxo

It was always there (Guest Blog)

My name is Katie from Love is Everywhere and today I was invited by the ever oh so beautiful  and lovable Donna. Of course, I accepted with no hesitation. She has become such an amazing and truly genuine friend to me. Hope I make her proud!

I love to observe everything around me, no matter where I am. Perhaps, it's to be safe with my surroundings or suppose I'm nosy? I've always been a dreamer in the car when I'm riding shotgun. Trying so hard to look at all the details as everything is passing bye so fast in the opposite direction in which I'm going. Today sitting beside my love muffin (first time ever using that nickname) in My Boy Blue [car] I was noticing houses and buildings that I never saw before. These structures were on streets I've driven down numerous times since I was a child, in a town I've lived my entire life. There was a church that I swear must have been built overnight! Houses that changed colours and parking lots, where did they all come from and what was there before? Sadly it's true, they've been there forever and I guess it's something I never really noticed before because I wasn't looking?

We passed bye this super cute house that I'll describe as a victorian style and there in the yard was this old but handsome tree. I wondered.. How old is that tree and how many children in a lifetime have climbed it? What stories could that tree tell if it could talk? It made me think back to when I was a kid and the trees that my cousins and I would climb. I remember my best friend and I carving our initials in a tree at the park down the street from my house. Unfortunately, years later we would find out that the tree was cut down. One of my uncles tied a tire to a huge tree in their yard and we would take turns hanging from the tire and jumping off. It's something I really want to do in our backyard where my love muffin and I live now. It makes me a bit sad to see all of these new houses and condos going up with faux grass and no trees. I take it back, they are planting trees but they are just babies. It'll take decades before the trees are even climbable and by then will kids still be climbing trees?

I try very hard to take in life and learn to love it all. A small town I grew up in is pretty fascinating and I bet where you are is too. Look around more often where ever you go and open your eyes a little wider. It's amazing what it is out there, what's always been out there.. that you just may never have noticed before.

With love always ~ Katie

My Daughter (Guest Post)

Guest post of the day is by Bryan, the ever so clever author of both nuclearheadache and The Encyclopedia of Counted Sheep.

That's my daughter, Lea, to the left there.  She just turned 14 a few weeks ago, so that's kind of an old picture.  She's reaching that age where she's spending a lot of time hanging out with her friends and running around.  It's all part of that perpetual process of leaving the nest that repeats itself generation after generation, and like the long line of men before me I'm caught in the position between learning to gradually let go and being the worried father.  Although it's hardly a unique position, every man has to deal with it in his own unique way.  For me, whenever I start in worrying about something, my imagination always tends to take me to strange places.

On New Year's Eve she went to spend the night over at a friend's house.  I came by the next afternoon to pick her up.  I rang the doorbell, and when the friend's mother showed up, I explained to her that I was Lea's father.  She said only, "Okay", and then closed the door in my face.  So there I was on the porch, and almost a full ten minutes had passed and my daughter hadn't come out yet.  At that point, my wheels started to spin.  I started to think that they either had her tied up in the basement and they were consulting on how much of a ransom to ask for, or something bad had happened.  I imagined this conversation between the mother and father (we'll call them Alice and Bill.):

Alice: He's here!  What are we going to do?

Bill: He's going to know about it sooner or later.  It was an accident.  I'm sure he'll understand.

Alice: He'll understand!?  Bill, her head came completely off.

Bill: I'll just get some duct tape and...

Alice: This is serious.  He's going to call the police.

Bill: Well, get him to come inside.  I'll just beat him to death with my old bowling trophy, and then we'll ditch the bodies in the back yard.

Alice: Alight, go find the trophy.

At that moment, if the mother had poked her head out and said, "She'll be out in a couple of minutes.  You wanna come in and have some coffee.", I probably would have grabbed her, dragged her through the door, and demanded to see my daughter.  Alright, well maybe I would have and maybe I wouldn't have.  Clearly I'm exaggerating, but I was getting a little worried.  When my daughter finally showed up, I said, "I've been waiting out here for like ten minutes."

"We were in the middle of doing something."  Wonderful. 

I'm sure from her point of view, she just thought I was ticked off about having to wait.  I'm sure it came across that way.  Obviously, she has no appreciation for the sorts of things that run through my mind.  Oh well, she'll have kids of her own one day.  I tell her I worry about her, but when you're a kid and you hear this, you think your dad is just being sweet or something.  You have no idea.  Sometimes I even look in on her when she's sleeping, as if something's going to happen to her in her own bed.  How can you even explain these kind of neuroses without sounding like a lunatic?

But it's a balance.  It's a fine line you have to walk.  If I let my anxieties run away with me, then I'd be doing her more harm in the long run.  She has to learn to take those first fragile steps in the world, or she'll never be able to survive if she's confronted with this insanity that we call "real life" all at once.  And so I let her go, but as she's heading out the door, I always say, "Be careful."  I have no idea what that's suppose to mean.  Neither does she.

another year, lots of new dreams.

hello lovelies, allow me to introduce myself.  my name is lindsay from scenic glory...this is my little corner of the world i have created and where donna and i first met :)  first, i would like to thank the beautiful donna for inviting me to guest post on her blog.  i am so honored to be here ♥ 

i must say, at first i was a little nervous about this post since donna has created such a wonderful outlet for her writing.  i have never really thought of myself as a writer, but as a child my ideas were much different.  i used to dream of writing childrens books and creating all of the beautiful images to go along with it.  i look back and wonder what ever happened to this dream?

do you ever find yourself looking back to your own childhood wondering what happened to all of those dreams you once had?  people say that the older are wiser, and this may be true, but with age i realize that so many of my dreams and ambitions have been lost over the years.  i sincerely believe that as children we are much more creative and wild with our thoughts...this is the time when we really dream.  although we have many different responsibilities as adults than we did as children, i still think it is a shame to let everything we once dreamed of feather away into nothing.

so today i propose a challenge for you for2011...i challenge you to think back, remember those dreams you once had and make at least one a reality.

another year, lots of new dreams.  make 2011 count ♥

xoxo-lindsay

Thirty Days of Truth - Day Two

Yesterday when I was posting, I was looking forward to today because I immediately thought it would be easier to post something I love about myself than it would something I hate about myself.  In a way that's true, it's easier to think about this, but not necessarily easier to come up with something that I'm happy about.  I suppose it says a lot about how far I've come in my life that I can come up with anything at all.

Due to some weird events as a teenager, and the experience of just being a teenager I suppose, there was a long time that I probably couldn't have found anything I love about myself.  I was this tiny, shy girl, with a beautiful head of hair, a pretty smile, and great eyes, I was nice to everyone, worked hard and yet I wasn't happy with who I was.  Or maybe I had no idea who I was, I don't know anymore.  What I do know is that I'm happy that's all changed, that no matter if I was petite and pretty back then, it wasn't worth anything because I couldn't see it for myself.  I was pretty on the inside, but my insecurities never allowed me to see past what I thought I saw in the mirror to see that beauty beneath.

In that aspect, aging is a wonderful thing.  So, here we go.....

Day Two - Something You Love About Yourself.


I love that I've found the self confidence that I lacked for so long.

I love that I smile at everything, even though I find little funny enough to actually laugh out loud.

I love that it's easy for me to talk to smile at complete strangers and start up conversations.

I love that I'm a mother even though I never planned to be.

I love that I can wear flip flops now even though I hate my toes.

I love that animals are attracted to me because I've always believed that animals can see the truth in people.

I love that I look at the bright side of everything, even when things aren't going well.

I love that my first instinct is to trust people even though it's not always the best thing to do.

I love that I'm a mystery sometimes even to people who know me well.

I love that my last words to my Dad were "I love you".

I love that I've got so many characters who live inside my head.  They make it easy to create, and easy to escape into other worlds when I need to.

I love that people are drawn to me, even if it's just to talk about their problems, it lets me know that I've got something inside that I can offer the world.

And finally, I love that I love being me, at last.

Today is also the last day you'll be reading posts from me until next week.  My best friend is coming in from New York tomorrow and we're picking her up at Penn Station in Baltimore for a week long visit!  Yay!

I've got a ton of fantabulous guest posters lined up to post for me while I'm gone and I can't wait to read those posts when I get back!

I still need to hear from a few of you about your posts, I've added everyone I've got e-mails for to the list of approved authors so you can post straight from my account, I'd like to get this all finalized today if possible since I'm not sure how much time I'll have in the morning before I have to leave to make the two hour drive to Baltimore.

Thanks again for everyone who volunteered, I'm super excited about this and I hope you'll all enjoy posting and I hope you as readers will enjoy the change from my usual randomness!  I'll pick up the Thirty Days of Truth when I'm back to posting on a regular schedule.  Thanks so much to all of you guys who stop by and read and leave love, you make my days brighter and the best gift in the world is a smile and those you give me in spades!  Much love!

Thirty Days of Truth - Day One

Okay so this should be an interesting endeavor for me.  I kinda hate that I'm going to miss that one week, but I promise I'll make it up, this is how I wanted to start the new year and I've been looking forward to it for too long to postpone it just so I can do every day in order.

The first day is:  Something you hate about yourself.

Well.

What a way to start.

I hate that I try to be everything to everyone.  It's a guaranteed way to make you feel like you're not good enough.  When you've got family and friends, and especially a job too, there's NO way to be what everyone needs when they need it.  If you try, someone is going to suffer and feel let down.  I'm not sure what the answer to this one is actually, I'm still working it out the best I can.

I really hate this sleeping disorder.  I guess that doesn't really belong here in some ways, but in so many others it does.  Yes, it's a physical condition, but I can't help but feel like it's my fault somehow that I can't just force myself to stay awake.  I've heard all the things people say about me, that I'm lazy, that it's in my head, that I could stay up if I put myself on a schedule and stuck to it, that it's ridiculous that anyone sleeps so much, the list goes on and on.  Fact is?  I really can't help it.  Sure I can MAKE myself stay awake, but I pay for it.  I'm tired every minute of every day of my life and I hate that.  I really, truly hate it.  I feel cheated.  Robbed of what should be life and instead is not much more than a series of naps.

I hate how I feel about getting old.  I remember when I was in middle school thinking that my Mom was ancient, and now I'm older than she was.  I would really like to be able to reconcile those thoughts.  I'm so much more self confident now than I was when I WAS young and pretty, and that shows through, I know.  I get more compliments now than I did then, but there's just something about knowing that my hair is dyed and I use make up and beauty products to battle the signs of aging that makes me feel like an imposter.

I hate that I've let other people dictate parts of my life in the past.  I can't go back and get those years to do over and I know now I would have done things differently.

I know it's odd, but I hate that I'm so nice sometimes.  I'd like to be bitchy sometimes and just say No.  If for no other reason I'd be almost $17,000 richer right now if I had.  Long story that, one for another day.

I hate that I didn't take more pictures when I was pregnant.  I felt fat and ugly but now I wish I had more of those photographs of the months when I created the most wonderful child I know.

I hate that I spent so much time when I was younger worrying about what other people thought of me and being "safe".

I hate that I didn't get to spend those years with my Dad when he wasn't at home.  The few months I had back before he died weren't long enough.

I hate that I've let people I care about slip away from me.

I hate that I put my trust in people who didn't deserve it and wound up being hurt.  It caused me to build some pretty impressive walls around myself and I'm pretty sure I've kept people out who could have been good friends because I was afraid to trust again.

I hate that I didn't laugh easily for so long because I thought my smile was too big.

I know there's probably more in there somewhere, but I think this is enough for today.