“Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper.”

i apologize for not really writing any lately; i've come down with a temporary case of the blues. recently i had to change my anxiety medication from effexor to lexapro so i imagine that probably has something to do with it. my body is adjusting to the change. and bless my stars!! i hate it, more than anything. i must be patient though and ride it out, as with everything, it will balance itself out, so says the miniature, wise little Buddha/Yoda creature in mah head...





school has been going well thus far. no complaints as of yet, other than there is NO.WORLDLY. REASON.FOR.A. THREE.HOUR.LAB. ...NONE. WHATSOFUCKINGEVER. as a matter of fact, i'm going to ask my friend who works at my school, to find out who's ingenious idea it was to have labs that length of time, so i can politely go and knock on their door and go all chuck norris/jujitsu on their tacos (or balls, whichever the case may be). five minutes feels like five hours. i swear to bob. its a good thing the teacher's accent is kinda hot, otherwise i'd have NOTHING to do in there. (she's a NC farmer's daughter. 'nough said.)




i have a family vacation coming up soon for the holiday. it...should be interesting, to say the least of it. my semi-psychotic, hippie, nonsensical, semi-tatty, sordid, pothead aunts and uncles and cousins, and then my oh-so-well-behaved-thirteen-year-old-brothers-with-add-who-know-EVERY-FUCKING-THING-in-the whole-god-damn-world. let's not forget my darling, adorable, mommy's little princess (Sophia), then the other two spawns of satan that belong to my family (their dogs). be it that we don't all commit homicide by the end of the trip, it should prove to be a very eventful weekend. hopefully i will also get to see some friends of mine who'll be down that way anyways

















i had this dream last night that i was shopping for rings in a funky store, that i got lost in the clothes racks because the clothes were all too fluffy or some shit. think like 80's madonna tutu-style clothing. yeah. then, i walked out the store without paying for two rings that i had on my finger. so in a sense, i reckon i was a damn shoplifter. nice. then, some fool started shootin up the place inside a place that very much resembled morrison's cafeteria. do yall remember that place? it was a staple in our mall for like most of the 90's, i think. it was pretty yucky food, but it filled you up and shut you up without emptying your mama's wallet. it was kind of like a low rent version of a ryan's steakhouse. mmmmm... i used to be so in love with their macoroni and cheese. that was SLAMMING!! so cheesy, but not too much, and creamy as all get out. yummy!! wait, what was i talking about? oh right; the dream. any ideas? wonder what that all means? by the way- i didn't get shot in it. any input would be awesome.

snip this.

this week has been a busy one, for me that is. school started back. this is the first semester that i've been back since the bastard killed himself and his wife. i actually feel like my head is attached to my body again. i don't feel like a walking target for poisonous and false allegations to them anymore. those that know me, and know me well, know my stance. they know (some of) the suffering and the sheer horror. some have said to me that they could not understand why i went to the visitation & funeral. how, after all was said and done (on both sides, because i am not innocent either), how i could go there in front of their peers. how could i pay respects to this man.

i couldn't answer that for a while but now i know. i didn't pay respects to him; i wanted to make sure the SOB was dead. i felt bad that she died. i still do. she didn't deserve it, especially at his hands. i never wished it upon either of them. i wished every and anything else (but that) upon him. the fact remains as this: i went to the funeral because the little girl inside of me was this man's genetic daughter. it is that little girl who, at three years old, sat in her mama's lap in a pink leotard with a matching tutu, tiara and wand, cried out in pain for her daddy to come home. i cried so hard that i cried myself to sleep. even at that age, i knew enough to know this man didn't want to be my daddy. this was a man who was too embarrassed to take me to get a haircut when my parents were still married. my mom got me all dressed up for him to take me. instead his ego and vanity drove us around and i returned home to my mom without a haircut. if i recall correctly, this is a man who reeked of alcohol as his only child, barely a toddler, had very serious open heart surgery.

it still hurts. my temper still flares. but the tears have stopped. i've had enough. in a few months i'm changing my last name, and if you ask me, it should've been done over twenty years ago. its the last string. and i can't wait to snip that bitch either. "here's a hair cut for ya, daddy. so suck it."


i truly can't wait. i believe it'll give me that last bit of freedom, that last molt; to shed any of his attachment to me. if i could strip half my dna to be rid of his toxicity, i damnit would. i'm doing what should have been done decades ago. one thing i'll never comprehend; if he reputed me so badly, why oppose my mom having 100% full custody, why not relinquish parental rights, why oppose the adoption? amidst all of the anguish, hatred, and spite, i think that is perhaps the most evil thing he did... not letting me go. i just won't ever understand that level of hatred. that level that he and his family feed and breed upon. its beyond me.

...but anyways. changing the subject dramatically... i'm going home friday for the weekend, even though honey disagrees. i hate being home alone. i hate being home alone on weekends. i hate being home alone on weekends without friends or family. even though it wears me out, i absolutely adore spending time with my friends and family. its uber cathartic.


oh and btw yall, i was wrong about the michael jackson thing... apparently, he's still chillin in a freezer. just... nastayyyyyyy. yuck.


i have been too damn slack on it, but i must pick it back up...

GIST #9: I am thankful for my family's unconditional love.

(yes, the picture is like 7 years old.)

strength & grace.

here it is, the night before school officially starts. i'm anxious as hell. i'm okay with my teachers, so its not that. i think its the sheer size of the expected crowd. that always brings me down to my knees because for the most part, i can't stand people. people are just too stupid for their own damn good. but alas, life goes on. (and the stupid people just sit 'n spin for eternity.)

with every new semester i can't help but to think of my darling favorite redhead, reba. she sings so sweetly, so fiesty, so boldly. she dares to question it, and in so dupes you into questioning your own life without even realizing what she's gotten you to do. that's a true artist, somebody who broadens your horizons; in my opinion, anyways. on her GIANTS program, when this song was performed, they listed quote after quote from people who were inspired to return to school because of her. (the show honoring country GIANTS, as it suggests, named her its "Inaugural Honoree.") that's mah girl.

whatever higher power is out there, please give me strength & grace tomorrow. maybe i'll simply take my cue from Reba.





"...Is there life out there
So much she hasn't done
Is there life beyond
Her family and her home
She's done what she should
Should she do what she dares
She doesn't want to leave
She's just wonderin
Is there life out there

She's always lived for tomorrow
She's never learned how
To live for today
She's dyin' to try something foolish
Do something crazy
Or just get away
Something for herself for a change...

There's a place in the sun that she's never been
Where life is fair and time is a friend
Would she do it the same as she did back then
She looks out the window and wonders again

Is there life out there
So much she hasn't done
Is there life beyond
Her family and her home
She's done what she should
Should she do what she dares
She doesn't want to leave
She's just wonderin
Is there life out there"

on we go...

its official: i feel like poop. flat.out.feel.like.nasty.poop. who the hell knows why. but it sucks. thank gawd i stayed home today, because had i been out in public when... an attack... hit me, i'd have looked like a mad woman on the hunt for any halfway functioning toilet in this south carolina humid august heat. fun times!!


i'm headed up to school tomorrow to finalize my class schedule, and get the necessary books and such. i'm nervous about returning to school, but i feel like i'm ready to tackle it again. this will be the first time since the bastard killed himself that i feel okay enough to really give it a good go. i tried to go back twice before, but my anxiety damn near crippled me in trying to do so. i'd be sitting there, trying to take a math class and bam! an anxiety attack out of NOWHERE.

i'd see my wretched aunt informing me that i have my father's chin,... AS WE STOOD IN FRONT OF HIS CASKET LOOKING AT HIM. gee, thanks. that family always knew how to make me feel special. or i'd relive the tee-total humiliation of having the whole god damn town hear that i was disinherited. then living with the further humiliation of having people feel sorry for me. the whole damn thing just sucked. but alas, i am at a place that i am relieved he is gone. i have the rest of my life to live freely from my childhood monster, and that in itself, is THE BIGGEST AND BEST gift he could have ever given me. inheritance or not.

i am fully aware of who my real family is, who my wonderful and true friends are, and how fortunate and blessed i am to have a great spouse who loves me unconditionally. we built our dream house, have a house full of furbaby critters, and in general, a really great life. i am coming to realize that maybe the secret to this whole thing is indeed love. i'm not at a place of forgiving him, by any means; in fact, i'm nowhere near it. but one day, i can and will. and when that day arrives, that's okay. its just not today.

southern fried.

there is this delightful little quiz on face.book that determines which county in south carolina you truly belong in. its just a fun, thoughtless time killer to pass the day. i took the said quiz and received the answer of Marlboro County, "You probably don't have much money, and don't mind it that way. You don't care if the schools are older than your grandma, because your grandma probably lives in the area. The beach isn't too far away, but you probably just like huntin' in the woods more than the beach. You might like a little fly fishin' on the weekend too. You hate cities, and you like being so close to Darlington for the NASCAR races. Come to think of it, Dillon or Darlington Counties would probably suit you just as well!" Now see, the more appropriate answer most definitely would've been Darlington County. That is where the majority of my friends live.

DarCo is where I spent the rebellious and most self destructive days of my careless youth. It is where I had my first broken heart, my first real country parties, my most haunted memories of childhood abuse, the place where I found who my truest friends are, the place where my monster was taken from this world, the place I made my most stupid and reckless mistakes,... Darlington County is the place where I grew up on my own accord. to say i lost my virginity in this county is actually perfect. i mean that not only in the literal sense but the metaphoric sense as well. first girlfriend, first boyfriend, first dose of reality,... you know, the real bitches of growing up. (i of course speak of no ill will towards either of the first boyfriend or girlfriend, as to one of whom i am still close with, platonically, naturally.) the memories that county holds for me is almost unparalleled to any other county. it is closely rivaled for second place by my hometown county, the place of which i was born in... Florence County.

the railroad tracks in darlington county never fail to spring a smile on my face. when my own mother was a young mother and a fresh faced teacher just out of college, her first teaching job was in said county. in the mornings on her way to work, she'd ride along side her daddy, my papa, who was the train engineer taking the train through darlington county at that precise time. he'd wave and blow the whistle for my mama. i always thought that was super special. thats what real daddies do, you know? real daddies are there for your prom, for teaching you how to drive, and even for taking their daughters to girl scout camp for Fathers Day to go fishing and catch their first fish.
darlington county is a place chocked slap full of trailer trash, die hard nascar addicted, rednecks with life stories that are sad, pathetic, sordid, and yet alluring in that comedic-omg-this old woman peed on your floor kind of way. i was watching this new show that the wife introduced me to, called trailer park boys. OMG. its in canada though. i sat watching this awkwardly funny totally ingenious show thinking, the only thing that could make this even better would be if it was SOUTHERN. like, i would want to carry a lil camcorder into various trailers around florence and darlington counties and voila! now THAT'D be entertainment, yall!! **side note: while i enjoy being a SOUTHERN girl, i am in NO WAY a confederate flag wearing racist bigot!!**



GISM #6 of 365:
i am thankful for where i grew up; home.

wifery inclinations.

after arriving home early saturday afternoon to discover a cranky wife with a vicious migraine, we headed to columbia to buy bundles of hardwood flooring for our house. (fyi: spending a couple of hours with a cranky wife cooped inside a car, on the highway, with a migraine... is NOT fun.)
"but i digress," sunday, C poked and proded me out of our nice, warm, toasty, and comfy bed for a spur of the moment getaway to SC's own lowcountry. and i ASSURE you,... albeit a relaxing day, it was an interesting one, to boot.
beautiful scenery, scandalous and romantic marsh smells were more than abundant. it was more than enough to give you a promise of what the south was really like, way back when. aside from all that racial and sexist prejudicial nonsense, ofcourse.
all in all, i must divulge, that THE MOST satisfying and hilarious moment of the day, was our time spent on fairview nursery road. what a relief, indeed. lol.
with darth vadar guiding our way, our day was thoroughly enjoyable. i did get doggy sick the closer we got home, though. i can't go without my babies!!

today i started school, and best believe, it wo' mah arse out!! mah C and i were so in sync today, it wasn't funny. i.e.- upon my early arrival at school, i visited the unairconditioned, one stall only, ladies room, where i had a semi freak out due to the heat. in my mind, i was thinking that i needed C's help. fast forward about 25 minutes.... C get this intuitive urge to go check on me at school. (something she's NEVER done.) so she gets there, finds my truck, only to discover i left mah headlights on and my debit card out in full view. OOPS!! okay. THEN... she found the identifying sticker that i couldn't find this morning that indicates that i am a current student. so she sticks that on mah bumper, as it should be. THEN... upon my departure from school at approximately 245 pm, we were playing text/phone tag discussing supper plans. i got irritated, and proceeded onto booger king for our food. i NEVER go there, because, well... it just isn't mah fave. i then get home, walk in the door, to find out a few minutes later that, she had indeed gone to the booger king before i had, and gotten EXACTLY what i got for her (with the exception that she ordered no mayo, and i ordered no mustard), but she'd left her food in her car when her ADD kicked in and she decided to mow the grass instead.
*deep breath*
okay, here are our lowcountry pictures. no, your eyes are NOT deceiving you. okay, i'm beat. my white ass is goin to bed now. peace out, whores.