Tuesday, December 29, 2009


I found this ad on Craigslist this morning:

"Free or will take donation for feed... Presley is a jet black qrt horse gelding. He was give to me a few weeks ago and he rides great, but every now and then his hip gives him problems. I was told he is only 1 1/2 yrs old. Gentle!"

Why the heck would you be riding a 1-1/2 year old horse in the first place?! "His hip gives him problems." I'm surprised that's the only thing giving him problems being ridden so damn young.

Monday, December 28, 2009

All I Got for Christmas was a Fiancé and a Sinus Infection

That about sums it up :)

All I got for Christmas was a [kick-ass, wonderful, spectacular] fiancé and a [horrid, awful, sniffle-inducing] sinus infection :)

First...the good stuff...

Now, what makes this ring so important is that there are four generations represented:

L to R: Great-grandmother's diamond from her engagement ring, great-great grandmother's diamond from her engagement ring, and grandmother's ("Nan") diamond from her engagement ring. The band Andrew picked out and had the diamonds mounted on.

That's right...1...2...3...4...4 generations. Apparently he and my mom have been conversing back and forth regarding the diamonds and the ring as well as the engagement date. Over Thanksgiving when my parents were up visitng, Andrew and my dad had "the talk."

So it was Christmas Eve...I was feeling rough. We had finished dinner, and we all went back out into the living room. Andrew looked at me and said, "I have an early Christmas present for you." I asked, "you do?" and he pulls out a gift-wrapped box with a bow. When I opened it and saw what it was, he asked, "will you marry me?" Of course I said yes :)

August 27th, 2011...in case you're wondering.

And the bad...

Santa brought me a sinus infection - blagh! Luckily, I have another 3-day short work week before heading to my parents' house for the New Years holiday (and the Ducks playing OSU in the Rose Bowl!)

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Can't Discipline Your Kids? Call the Police.

Seems to be a growing trend....


"Son's Incessant Gaming Leads Mom to Call 9-1-1"

BOSTON -- An overwhelmed Roxbury mother dialed 9-1-1 early Saturday morning because her son would not stop playing video games.

The single mother, 49-year-old Angela Mejia, awoke around 2:30 a.m. Saturday to find the light on in her son’s bedroom. The 14-year-old boy was playing Grand Theft Auto hours after his mother told him to go to sleep.

Mejia then unplugged her son’s PlayStation and dialed 9-1-1. Police managed to convince Mejia’s son to stop playing the game and go to sleep.

Parents around town had plenty to say about Meija’s decision.

“She wanted discipline and she wasn’t getting it. That’s what she needed in the house. Order...she wasn’t getting it. So she called the police. I agree with her,” said Harvey Nicholson, a local parent.

Other parents disagree with her decision.

“I think it was extreme, calling the cops, I wouldn’t have done it. That’s what teenagers do,” said Sophia Lamb, a parent.

The game is rated “M” for mature. Meija said her son received the game as a gift from a friend.

Meija said the police were able to get through to her son. He has apologized and assured her that he will never do this again.

** Is it really that hard to unplug the video game console, and remove it from the room?

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Old Blog Post #12

Sunday, December 7, 2003
The Habit of Pointing Fingers.

"People are in the habit of pointing their fingers at others. They don't point at themselves"

~ Ven. Varapanno (Vietnamese Monk; Myanamar, Oct. '03)

Instead of looking at one's own faults and discrepencies, we try to place the blame on everyone else. "I have no time because of others," and "I have no one to love because no one wants me" are just some of these blames. If we, instead, look at ourselves and look within ourselves, we will find all of the answers for the questions we pose. Before we can understand everything around us, we must understand ourselves: we have to understand what makes us who we are, and not what everyone makes us out to be. When you have accomplished this, then, and only then will you be able to be happy with yourself, your life, and with the consequences around you from choices that you have made.

Conformity is a word passed around by the eloquent and those persons that think they are 'individuals,' but is it all a front? Only they will be able to tell that, and they will have to face themselves. I would much rather face external conflicts than internal consequences any time of the day. External conflicts are easier to remedy; internal conflicts are easier to prevent.

Old Blog Post # 11

Monday, December 8, 2003
Courage of the Fallen.

"Courage is not defined by those who fought and did not fall, but by those who fought, fell, and rose again"

Nothing comes without a fight; it does not matter how small or large the triumph may be. There will always be sacrifices made in order to succeed in life. A walk across the street, a single breath, a battle won in a war - these are all things that required some fight to them. To claim that we, as human beings, are docile by nature is a blatant lie against humanity, and one that I will not support. We, as humans, are a warring species. We have the needs of survival - food, heat, shelter - and we will stop at nothing to get what we need. There are other examples of this in nature, and it correlates with anthropomorphism. Anthropomorphism is the attribution of human motivation, characteristics, or behavior to inanimate objects, animals, or natural phenomena.

African Lion - Panthera leo - FEMALE:
The mother is very protective over her cubs; the female do most of the pride-hunting. The females will also gang up on the males that come near their pride and cubs.

Wolverine - Gulo gulo :
After they give birth, the mother defends her territory, and intruders are not tolerated. This territorial behavior continues until the young are old enough to hunt, and even then, wolverines keep their territorial instincts.

So as you can see, it is not just the human species that are natural fighters. Or is it that the human species are more animalistic in nature than animals being more human?

Old Blog Post # 10

Thursday, March 6, 2008
How is online dating different than actual dating?

To me, there are groups of people who pursue online dating, but really, it comes down to four categories:

1) Busy People: These are people who are looking for a relationship, but are too busy/have no want to go out and find someone in trademark places such as bars, etc. Sometimes too shy, but mainly knowing that the person they're looking for, they won't find in those trademark places.

Overall psychological analysis: NORMAL

2) Antisocial People: These are people that, after meeting in person for the first time, you know exactly why they choose online dating as their dating venue of choice. More than likely, these people are 100% dishonest in how they portray themselves online/on the phone. They often don't know how to act in public and react more dramatically than others in certain situations.

Overall psychological analysis: ANTISOCIAL potentially SOCIOPATH

3) Booty People: These are people whose sole purpose it is online is to obtain as many booty calls that they can possibly obtain. Often portraying themselves as normal and looking for the "one" they know the super-saturated syrupy phrases to make certain women go "ga ga" just long enough to woo them into bed.

Overall psychological analysis: SOCIOPATH / NYMPHOMANIAC

4) Scammers: Pretty self-explanatory. Either want money or need a green card. Commonly from obscure foreign countries.

Overall psychological analysis: GULLIBLE

Old Blog Post # 9

Thursday, March 6, 2008
Online Dating: Truckers Scamming.

When I saw this on an online dating forum, I had to reply:

All ladies in and around Atlanta and along I-20 need to be aware that there is a truck driver that has a permanent route from Columbia, SC to Atalnta, GA that is scamming women. His name is MWH. He is 6"5" and around 285pounds dark hair and moustache. He preys on women in convience stores and small truck stops. He will buy you flowers, clothes, and even a ring ( which will be a fake ) promising to marry you. He will ask you to ride with him and even ask you to marry him. Then he will borrow money and ask for you to let him move your belongings to his place after he has you quit your job. He will never take you to his place, always makes an excuse. Will promise to spend weekends with you but never does. You will only have a cell phone to reach him by which after he gets all your money and belongings he changes the number and disappears. The company he drives for will not help you in any way. Neither will the police because you gave it to him voluntaryly.

How do I know this? I was one of his victims.

Let us analyze this whole post. First of all, this is an online dating site. He preys on women in convenience stores and in truck stops. How more materialistic can a person be to be so easily wooed with tangible items? Why on Earth would you loan someone money, quit your job, and think you will live happily ever after. Based on the remainder of this woman's post, all of this transpired in a relatively short period of time.

Here are some tips:

* If a guy is interested in you that you meet somewhere out in public, exchange phone numbers. Take the time to get to know one another/ plan on having a "real" date (preferably in a public place).

* If a guy starts buying/giving you tangible items and turns around asking to borrow money, that should be your first red flag. A man/woman shouldn't have to buy another's affection. Materialism in the nth degree.

* Have more than one date with this person to get to know them.

* More than likely, follow your instincts when your head is telling you something's not right.

This woman could have saved herself some heartache and financial problems. It seems to me that this guy knows exactly what he's doing. Perhaps instead of naming him, this person needs to contact his employer or the police instead of posting a warning on an obscure online dating site.

Old Blog Post # 8

Friday, March 7, 2008
Stalking 101: Online Dating.

Never before have I witnessed such stalking as that I see on online dating sites. I'm not badmouthing online dating sites. It just seems like there is a lot more virtual stalking going on than meets the eye.

Stalking 101

How to tell if you're a stalker/being stalked:

1) Someone sends you a message. You read it at 1:00pm. You step away from your computer. By 1:10pm, you have another message asking "what's wrong?" or "what's up?" or "Why haven't you replied?" (Because they can see when you're online and where you ARE online through this site)

2) The person is a member of other dating sites/online web communities and details their victims every move on another website of which the victim is not a member: "Today Josh went to school, and when he was there, he talked to this girl. How dare he!"

3) The stalker tells you everything that you've done since you logged onto the site (i.e. "I saw that you logged on at noon, and I sent you a message that you read, but as of 2 p.m. I hadn't heard from you so I thought I'd send you another message. I saw that you haven't read that one yet, so what's up? Is there something wrong?")

I often read a lot of blogs or rants, if you will, from people getting annoyed when someone from this site (or another) talks to someone else. They don't know what the conversation may be. I know I have met clients on this site by accident. Let me rephrase that, g-rated clients who purchase products in my company's industry...on this site. So how do you know that person of whom you are interested isn't merely saying "hi"? AND, if you and another person are "a couple" (even if you are 1000+ miles apart), why are you both on this site....and why are you ranting that he/she is talking to someone of the opposite sex when you are doing the same thing?

Stalkers, Psychos, and Hypocrites! Oh My! the sociopath's version of Wizard of Oz.

Old Blog Post # 7

Friday, March 7, 2008
I Turned Him Gay!

Okay let me start off with, no I'm not that naive, but I hear that phrase so often, and this short brief synopsis ought to make you chuckle. I am friends with everybody - don't care what your orientations for anything are.

There was nothing on t.v. last night so I stumbled across Mtv's "True Life." It happened to be "My job in the sex industry affects others." Whatever. There was a farmer who had a dog, and DRAMA was his name-oh.

Moving along. There was a part about male strippers (in the "gay industry" - didn't know your sexual preference was an industry), and I'm looking at this guy who is friends with the main true-lifer, and he looks familiar.

I call up a friend of mine, and tell her to turn on the television. She starts watching, and then stops mid-sentence with, "Wait...that guy....on the chair. He looks familiar. WAIT A MINUTE....OH MY GOD.... that's not? is it? but..."

Sure enough stripper Wayne or whatever his name was....was a guy I had briefly dated my freshman year of college....here in Georgia....about 9 years ago. When he and I first started dating, he said his interests were the outdoors, cars, four wheeling, stripping. Okay - whatever - all college guys claim "stripping" or what have you as a "hobby." This guy proceeded to tell me where he stripped, and he didn't care because his school, car, and house were paid for.

I had wondered what happened to him....now we know

Old Blog Post # 6

Friday, March 21, 2008
Overuse of Metaphors.

Ugh. It irks me when, instead of writing directly what you think/say, someone has to write this huge metaphor for life or love or death and sappingly drape it with $5 words without actually making a point.

I read an acquaintance’s blog. An acquaintance who attempts to hook up with whomever will give him the time of day, but yet, wait, what is this? You have been dating someone all along. Maybe I’m confused. I venture over to another website where he is a member, and I read “Relationship Status: It’s Complicated.” The only time THAT phrase should be used is if you’re separated and pending some nasty divorce or custody battle. “It’s Complicated” is a cop-out answer. You either ARE in a relationship, or you AREN’T in a relationship. I thought that was pretty easy?

Instead I roll my eyes and swallow down a little vomit as I read a diatribe about how “love” is a double-edged sword – one side good, one side evil. (But wait – he said “double sided,” does he mean ‘tape’?) It ends with he has shaken off a vain gold-digger after two weeks but finds himself a little vain, too.

Oh my dear Lord. *insert eye roll here*

Two weeks? Love? Vanity and materialism? Yah – that’s what I want to base my relationships off of.

I alert my friend that Vanity, Materialism, Arrogance and conceit only “sharpen” the malignant edge (since we’re now apparently talking strictly in metaphor) thus dulling the benign edge.

D-R-A-M-A only belongs on a stage, people.

Old Blog Post # 5

Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Dating version sucky-point-oh.

It seemed like it would be a normal date though I could tell that one of us was incredibly awkward, and the other incredibly confident in themselves. Guess who was the confident one?

I pull up to the house for what was to be dinner. Standing at the front door, I hear Red Hot Chili Peppers playing – still a good sign.

Let me give you a quick rundown on the representation from his online profile of this person:

5'4" tall

Sense of humor



Likes movies / Collects…"things."

I ring the doorbell – nothing. I knock on the door – and it opens. What I'm confronted with is a giggling man, about 5'1" (that's pushing it), who is acting like the world's biggest Dragon-Con fan….one of the over-the-top fans who can probably name every single character or whatever at Dragon-Con….and gets "excited" doing so. He just stands there giggling so I make a smart comment about the music choice and step inside. He continues to giggle.

I am confronted with a house that has Mickey Mouse and Winnie the Pooh hung on the walls. Oh frickin' fantabulous. It gets to the point where communication pretty much stops, and I ask, "are you going to show me the room?"

I am responded to with some giggles and awkwardness and "um um well would you mind taking off your shoes [flip flops]?" followed by giggles.

Ah yes, the room. I was told, "If the room doesn't send you screaming, nothing I ever do will."

We walk upstairs, me following a giggling hobbit, and the door opens to what I am sure was a nice spare room at one time. Now, there were action figures everywhere – covering every inch of floor and wall space – scattered. They weren't just action figures from one particular maker or series or whatever. There were action figures from almost everything – most of which…I didn't recognize. "Wow" was all I could say.

Now, here's the part that really irked me. No eye contact. When I talk to someone, I look at them. Everytime I talked to him, I was looking at him. It didn't matter that intermittently in my conversation, I got "mm hmm mm hmm mm hmm." What mattered was the lack of eye contact, and if there was eye contact, it was his eyes….on my chest.

I survived dinner. We talked for awhile, and I gazed at the clock behind his head. Word of advice, if you can't carry a tune in a bucked with duct tape, don't belt out the song like you're the world's greatest singer. Word of advice, Blitzkrieg Bop…by the Ramones…is not meant to sound like a death metal song. There is no screaming and growling in any 30 Seconds to Mars songs, and Ballroom Blitz from Rocky Horror….is also not meant to be a screaming and roaring rap song. How can you butcher some of my favorite songs and make them sound like a post-modern experiment in sound??

It was getting late (thank God), and I had enough and told him I had to go – had to get up early for work. The night ended with an awkward, okay, thanks, talk to you tomorrow.

Old Blog Post # 4

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

In 1999, I was a freshman in college. I remembered sitting in the computer lab rapidly tapping the keys to get a 4-page paper typed and printed within 30 minutes before class. Someone had IM'ed me - his name was Chris. He seemed like a nice guy, we chatted.

For the next couple of years, we "dated." I knew everything about him: he was a Christian radio DJ at night, and he was a minister at a church about an hour away as well. He loved helping people and giving advice. We lost touch around Summer of 2000 when I went away for summer break, wherein I met dumbass-to-be and was married March 2002. By Fall 2002 (when the dumbass and I were divorced because I found him not only cheating on me, but had raped a girl as well), Chris was there for me, and later that year was talking about marriage in general and how one day he hopes to find "the one" to settle down with and start a family. I thought, "this guy is a great, solid, caring guy."

Later on in the year, he sent me photos from his high school class reunion (10 year reunion). He had a picture with he and a girl's faced pressed up against each other. He had told me it was one of his best friends from high school - how sweet. He told me he wished I could have come with him, but I had plans that weekend.

I went to his house several times- nice little house - nothing out of the ordinary. Very basic decorating, but definitely professionally done.

In 2005, he came and rode horses with a friend and I. It was good to have a relationship in which things were taken slow.

He told me he thought I could be the one.

In 2005, I moved away to help with family medical issues. During that time, we sort of fizzled out, and our relationship came to an end.

In 2006, I found him on MySpace, and when I saw his profile, he was married with three children. I messaged him and congratulated him on the news. How nice it was that he did find someone and accepted her with kids as well! My response was, "what news?" and I told him, "on you getting married!"

"I have been married for the past ten years."

I was more mad than upset. He attempted to make me appear to be dumb and as if he had "told me before" and "from the get go." Only to message me a few minutes later saying his wife was standing next to him, and he played it off. He was sorry, but he could have "sworn he told me."

His wife....was his "best friend from high school" in the photo. He told me she knew he had cheated a few years ago so there was no point in continuing this any further, but he hoped we could still be friends.

Of course, we are no longer friends. I watch the daytime talk shows in which women confront married men in the same situation as above. People in the audience ask, "how could you not know?" But I know it's possible not to know.

Old Blog Post # 3

Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Eggs Rock My World.

I had been talking with a guy for awhile, and we decided it was time to meet. He seemed like a pretty normal guy so I was pleased. Whether or not our conversations would be at the same level was a different story.

Enter he and I into a coffee shop.

We take seats at a bistro table in the corner and begin chatting.

I was beginning to get aggravated when I'd make a very blunt, to the point, statement, and was questioned with "tell me more," or "why?" There was no "tell me more," and there was no "why." It was just a statement. I was then called "modest" because I wouldn't elaborate. It was beginning to get frustrating, and my patience was wearing thin.

Our conversation moved onto sex, in general. He had said he was both passive and aggressive, but it "depended."

Me: "Depends on what?"

Him: "Whether a woman is ovulating or not."

Me: coffee went into my nasal cavity

Him: "I have a very keen sense of smell."

Me: "excuse me?"

Him: "When a woman is ovulating it really turns me on."

Now I know why there are so many unplanned pregnancies.

Old Blog Post # 2

Monday April 14, 2008
Two deaths, and the things I've learned.

Back in October, my maternal grandfather (my "Pop"), passed away expectedly. I say expectedly as for the past decade or so he had been battling heart disease, among other things, and the current two years, he had battled stage 2 lung cancer that spread into his brain and other regions. He was on hospice care for two years. He was only supposed to live about six months after his diagnosis. But my Pop being an old Navy man fought it out to the end.

It didn't matter that he grew more and more senile with visions of things that weren't there or talking to the nurses and calling them by the name of someone in his past. His health was rapidly declining.

Prior to him passing away, my grandmother went into him and said goodbye.

When he passed away, thoughts of everything he had ever taught me and memories we ever had flooded through me, and almost immediately I was distraught. When you tell someone "my Pop died," and they ask, "were you close?" you feel like snapping back at them, but I guess that's just how some people were.

My Pop took me on my first horseback ride when I was six. I rode a horse named "Idol," a white Arabian or Arabian cross, and while I was being lead on a lead rope in front of another rider on a horse, I thought I was top dog. My Pop taught me about pipe tobacco, Florida, oranges, the beach, and art. One thing he did leave with me was his talent for art, and for that, I am grateful.

We cremated him and buried his ashes in January of this year.

My maternal grandmother (my "Nan") had also been ill. 20 years of living and fighting through her Parkinson's disease, she slowly started becoming a shell rather than the Nan I knew.

In 2005, she was diagnosed with many other ailments from esophageal cancer and other diseases. She went from a normal person to an old woman overnight. She had lost most of her teeth due to age and her inability to be able to sit in a dentist chair while they worked on her. It didn't help that she hated the dentist. Her diet went from normal food to cottage cheese, puddings, and other soft foods she could swallow. There were times where she couldn't say anything at all until her medicine kicked in.

When we moved down to Georgia from New York in the early 90s, my brother (a year and a half older than I) and I in two separate grades had to write papers about struggling with something. Unbeknownst to us, the other children wrote about how their parents wouldn't let them stay out late, or how they couldn't go over to so and so's house. My brother and I wrote about our Nan, and how it was a good day when she could get dressed herself, or when she could pour Pop a cup of coffee or could iron or get up from her chair without her walker.

I learned that my Nan was an only child and that her father had walked out on her mother when her mother was two months pregnant. My Nan never met her father until she was married. Her father had seen her wedding announcement in the paper. He died shortly thereafter.

My Nan dressed up as a hobo one Halloween with her neighborhood friend, and they went door to door (as adults), invited themselves into their neighbor's homes, dusted things off, sat down on the couch, and they each shared a flask, taking swigs....of tea.

I learned how my Nan used to love shopping and how she would take my mother and her sister shopping with her friends, but they would never buy anything. While her friends went into the restaurants to eat, my mom, her sister, and my Nan would sit outside on the curb in front of the restaurant eating egg salad sandwiches. My mom asked why they couldn't go into the restaurant to eat to which my Nan honestly replied, "well we don't have enough money to do that, but do you like your egg salad sandwich? I made it special today just for you!"

One day when my mom was a child, she came home from school talking poorly about a girl in her class who wore ragged clothes, had old torn shoes, and was rather dirty. My Nan asked my mom, "did you ever think that those clothes were the best she had? That those shoes were all they could afford? and did you ever think they may not have a bath tub or running water?" It was then that my mom learned the meaning of respect and not to judge those based on appearances alone: a lesson that was passed onto us at an early age.

When my brother had a godmother whose daughter had Down's Syndrome, we just saw her as another kid. When we had friends in NY who were Puerto Rican, Chinese, or Jamaican, to us....they were just kids we played with. We didn't see them as another color.

My Nan never said a negative word about anybody. She may have disagreed with them, but she took them for what they were. She kept several friends that way.

The last few days of my Nan's life, my mom was by her side, though she didn't want to be. During that time, every one of her friends called or wrote or e-mailed to say their final goodbyes. Though my Nan, at that time, couldn't respond as the Parkinson's had taken their last hurrah and had captured her ability to speak or to open her eyes, she would wiggle her fingers or tap her foot or try to smile to show she understood.

Before she passed away, my mom bent down and whispered to her that it was okay to go, and that Pop was waiting for her. A tear rolled down her cheek, and my mother said, "I know that tear's for me, mom. I love you," and with that, my Nan left this world.

She was cremated, and her ashes were buried this past weekend beside her husband, with whom she was able to celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary before they both passed away.

I have to keep reminding myself that, in the state they were, it was better for them to leave this world. They are healthy now, and they are happy. They don't have to get upset by worrying what others think about them when they are unable to do the simplest of daily tasks and daily necessities for life.

I just have to remember what my Nan taught me in this life:

1) Never judge a person based on what they are on the outside. Respect them for who they are on the inside, and look past their exterior.

2) Be grateful for what you have and not jealous of what you have not. Appreciate the little things in life rather than always wanting more.

3) Don't speak ill of others. You never know what they are going through, or what has made them the way they are.

4) Don't just offer a tissue to a friend in need, but dry their tears and comfort them.

5) Don't just offer advice to others, but help them when they need assistance.

6) Cherish the memories that you have with someone. They are truly a gift. Remember them every day, and you will never forget that person.

7) Love. Love your family, love your friends, love your life. Don't get too wrapped up in the big things in life that you forget about the little things.

8) Remember when money is tight, money isn't everything in life.

Old Blog Post # 1

** I found these on an old [forgotten] blog I had, and so I'll post them here. **

Many of you know the story about the married man posing as single...though had a daughter, oh...and a girlfriend?

Here you go:

Tuesday, April 15, 2008
I am not an inanimate object to be used.

I was contacted by a man that seemed great. His profile title was “Searching for my Soulmate.” Okay, his headline title was cheesy, but whatever. (Your headline/title is what you use as the title of your personal’s ad to grab others’ attention). We talked, and we eventually decided to meet for dinner. He came to the house, and he picked me up. He brought flowers, which was a first for me, and he even met a housemate and her mother who was visiting. They said they had “good vibes” about him.

We went and had dinner at a quaint little Italian place, and we had good conversation. I could tell he was a little nervous. First date jitters I guess. We drove around looking for a Starbucks to have some coffee, but they were all packed so we ended up coming back to my house, and casually watching some t.v. Around 10pm, it was time for him to leave. We said our goodbyes, I gave him a hug, and that was that.

I hadn’t talked to him for a few weeks due to his work schedule, and we made plans to have coffee. We met for coffee, and we talked some more. He was still a little nervous, so I chalked it up to his personality. “I don’t think this is going to work” was what I was thinking. We ended our coffee, and we went our separate ways.

He left to go out of town for work.

Out of the blue about a week later, I receive a text on my phone, “I’m a horrible person. Please forgive me.”

I told him he had neither done nor said nothing to me so what was I forgiving him for?

I knew it was bad when he asked if I could chat with him so I logged onto one of my plethora of messengers.

Here is how the conversation transpired:

Him: I’m a horrible person. I’ve lied to you. I’m not who you think I am.

Me (my thoughts will be done in parentheses – I only know you like hiking): Oh, and who are you?

Him: I don’t know if I can tell you. You’re affiliated with the same group I am.

Me: Nah, I’m only using them for discount SCUBA.

Him: I’m a married man. With a child.

Me: Ok.

Him: It gets worse.

Me: (how could it?)

Him: Well she had an online emotional relationship, if that makes sense.

Me: Ok. (what else am I going to say?)

Him: I put a key logger on the PC.

Me: That wasn’t very nice of you.

Him: And I read in black and white that she hated me, I wasn’t a good lover, etc.

Me: Ok. Did you confront her on this?

Him: For the past three years our relationship has been rocky. She’s abusive sometimes.

Me: Ok.

Him: So I joined [club], and I met Pam.

Me: Ok. (I can see where this is going…….ass)

Him: We immediately clicked. We talked the entire way up and the entire way back from the trip. We even clicked on the trail like she slipped, and I caught her. That night, we almost kissed, but she said “no” because she had gotten out of a bad relationship. The next night, the same thing happened. We slept together.

Me: Ok. So in my case, you lied to me twice – 1) saying you were wholly single and 2) you’re in love with someone who is not your wife, doesn’t know you’re married, and you’re out looking for others to date.

Him: Well I wasn’t really going to date you. I was going to use you.

Me: Welp, that’s all I needed to hear. Bye.

Him: Please let me finish.

I logged out of chat, mad as Hell. He sent another e-mail to me, reiterating the “I was to be used” fact, and I just got madder. I could feel my face getting flush, and I really wanted to punch this person, causing permanent damage.

I ended it with he had no respect. I have more class and intelligence than to be “used” like some inanimate object. I’m not an idiot. I’m not a ditz, and I’m a strong woman who doesn’t just fall and swoon and cling to any man that shows her attention. I’m sorry, but I can’t forgive you as you show no remorse.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009


** This is some pretty powerful food for thought and is a 100% true story posted by an online acquaintance of mine from Nevada:**

Every year Mike and I put together 100 gift bags for the homeless that consist of socks, hats, gloves and other goodies and pass them out the weekend after thanksgiving. This is a tradition my mom and I started years ago before I married. Then after Mike and I started doing K9 Therapy visits, we added the residents of the nursing home on our gift bag list, just with different goodies.

This year has caught us off guard. We have been so busy and overwhelmed with so much going on, that I haven’t had much time to prepare for the holidays. I am so far behind.

Some of you may remember a post I made quite a while back about a homeless lady I met while trapping feral cats downtown. Her name was Ruth, and when she had seen my friend and I getting the traps out and baiting them, she was pretty upset with us, thinking we were going to hurt the cats. After explaining to her what we were doing, and enlisted her help, she had calmed down, and at that moment, her life had changed, for the better.

That could have been the end of any contact with Ruth, but because I just had to come on here and share that story, many people on this board suggested I do something for her, a gift bag, perhaps, as a thank you. As some of you may remember, I took your suggestions one step further. My friend happened to have a casita in the back of her property, and we moved Ruth in there, for free room and board, and in return, she would help care for the ferals, on my friends property.

I have learned so much about Ruth, a wonderful beautiful lady, with a heart of gold, but as human as she is, she had made mistakes, which in turn, she had lost her husband, her daughter, and her home, she had become homeless, until that night we met.

Ruth moved into hospice 3 weeks ago. As I was visiting with her last night, just sitting, holding hands, with barely a whisper, she had told me she had a gift waiting for me at her place, but I needed to pick it up immediately, that it was something that needed attending to .

I didn’t want to leave her side, she had a way about her, that made you feel so comfortable, that everything was going to be okay.

After Mike and I left we headed straight over to her place, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. There in this small little room, a place she made home, were 100 gift bags all packed and ready to be given to the homeless. The only difference was the card she put in each bag, with a note for the recipient, explaining who she was, where she came from, she was once homeless too, and to not give up, everyone has an angel.

We passed the bags out last night, we were not even half way through, when my cell phone rang, she had passed away.

Her last words to me last night, “in the spirit of Christmas, be generous with your time, love your family, forgive, don’t give up hope”.

With that said, thank you to all who may have had a part in bringing Ruth into my life, and I echo her words...

In the spirit of Christmas, be generous with your time, love your family, forgive, and don't give up hope".

Happy Holidays to all!

Monday, December 14, 2009

Boondock Saints 2: All Saint's Day

This Saturday, Andrew and I opted for the A.M. Movie Special ($6 pp instead of $10.50 pp) to see Boondock Saints II: All Saint's Day.

What can I say? Let's break it down...

1st: our movie-going experience was plagued by just-turned-20-hormonal-crazed boys saying "MILF!" proceeded by Butthead huh-huh-huh-huh everytime the main female character was on the screen.

2nd: The brothers....as funny as ever....addition of "their Mexican" - even better. "Whoop Ass Fajitas!"

3rd: We learn the background story on Il Duce (the brothers' father) and what caused him to be a killing machine (also where he got his leather vest from, why he was in prison, etc.)

4th: Judd Nelson plays a paranoid mob boss (new Yakavetta family head.)

5th: There is definitely more humor in this movie than before, but some of the old jokes are brought forward as well - think...."rope."

6th: The detectives all seem a little more dumb/juvenile than the first one.

7th: There's an addition of a new FBI agent that takes over for Smecker's replacement. It's not stated WHY he took over, and he doesn't play a large part at all in the movie.

8th: It's been left open for a third installment in the Boondock Saints legacy.

All in all, if you liked Boondock Saints, you'll definitely have no qualms with the sequel.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Making Memories.

Yesterday, Andrew and I went up to his parents' house to visit. While we were up there, we decided to take a walk so Andrew could show me his parents' property line all the way up to a pulpwood field. On our way up, we passed a tiny cedar tree that I said would make a perfect Christmas tree for us.

On our way back, Andrew took our his pocketknife and sawed the small sapling down. I delightfully carried it down as if it was my staff leading a parade.

When his dad came out and saw it, he said, "that ain't no Christmas tree!" We began [another] hunt. I told Andrew the mini tree would be for my office.

We found another tree (about 4 feet tall), and we cut that down and put it in the back of my car.

We stopped by a store on the way home, bought blue Christmas lights and some blue and silver ornaments.

Andrew ended up gashing his knuckle fixing the tree, and we had no stand for it. We improvised. Using a 3-gallon bucket, we placed the tree in it, surrounded it with rock and then kitty litter (it's all we had at 8pm!) Ta da! Our tree. We stabbed ourselves with the sharp needles on the cedar hanging lights, and we made a white paper chain out of white wrapping paper to use as a garland.

Voila! Our "EMT tree" was complete! Ah....memories. It may not look like much to some, but to us - it's awesome!

Friday, December 4, 2009

Let's Say Thanks!

It takes less than a minute, folks!