Monday, October 29, 2007

I Hate Jobs

I've been selling myself like a starved prostitute to businesses around Spokane. Waiving my seemingly well-written, gilded application in their faces. They take the bait, like large fishes. Then they draw me in, saying things like "The phone call is really just a formality" and "You got the highest aptitude score I've ever seen" and "They'd be stupid to not hire you."

As hope and fear glimmer in my heart, they shove me, tattered, with a brown piece of paper that is now my application, into a pile of job.

In other words, after three grueling interviews, a typing test, a math and basic skills test, (which I aced) and a "mock" phone call test, they dumped me back in the cold. With no real reason as to why. Nothing. They all looked me in the eyes and gushed at my friendliness, my willingness to work, my empathy skills.

What the hell happened?

I told myself it wouldn't matter if I didn't get this job. It just meant I wasn't supposed to be doing it. And I have to keep reminding myself that there may be something better out there. But it's a really hard chant to keep whispering as you look at each paycheck, wishing for more.

I guess, it's not that I'm poor. It's just that a wedding doesn't come all that cheap. I grew up in a poor family, so my parents wont help out. Erichs parents think we should pay for it on our own. I know there's a good reason, the words escape me right now. But I think big. I'm a dreamer. I want so bad to have that wedding where my good friends and family are amazed by the grandeur of the ceremony site. I wanted them to lose their breath when I walked into the room. I want Erich to look at me with tears in his eyes (of happiness, thanks) and for his best friends to cheer him on. I want to provide a wonderful reception, with dancing, and horrible karaoke. But most of all, I want to look back on that day, 50 years from now, and think that it was all I ever wanted it to be.

Maybe I'm asking too much. Maybe...I'm being impatient.
All I know, is that as soon as we found out about the cancer scare, (again) we realised that we may not have much time. Nothing like cancer to spark the romance, eh? But I have no money. Bills have to be paid. And I could piece together each penny, but it always seems like something comes up. Erichs computer blew, he needs new brakes, I need medication, I have to go to another doctors appointment....any time I save up even the most basic amount of each paycheck, something always seems to come up. And I just feel defeated.

I know I'm feeling sorry for myself, and I should buck up. Already, I'm beginning to feel the determination come back to keep hunting for another job. Something that pays better. I want to go to college, but I can't afford it, and I have no where-abouts on my parents information, nor would they ever provide it. We hardly speak, really.

It just seems my entire life is a Catch-22, so to speak. Every time I turn around, it seems another wall with no windows or doors slams down around me.

That's all for my complaining. I'm gonna go eat dinner. And cheer up Maria...she had to work late today, so we're gonna scrapbook it up at her house. (She has very nice supplies, and is very generous with it...)

Peace out.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Greenbluff, WA

Yesterday, Erich and I went to Greenbluff. It's pretty much a slice of Americana. Country homes, Farmers markets, and little stands lined up everywhere. Trees were in abundance, changing every color, covering fields of pumpkins and corn stalks with a gentle blanket of golds and oranges, reds and browns.

It was a romantic day, we were extremely excited. We left early, I turned off my phone. We decided this was to be OUR day. A day for us-we'd given our entire week to work, to family, to friends. This was our one day to just be ourselves, to fall in love with the country, and to recall childhood memories.

I got a great apron that said "I love cooking with wine...sometimes I even put some in the food!" (Although I put more wine in food than in me. Promise) I got some homemade blackberry jam and apple butter. We also got some Spartan and Empire apples. I call the bag the Spartan Empire. "this is Spartaaaaaa!"
We also got some candy-I got a box full of homemade chocolate caramels. And they are delicious. My weight agrees. *sigh*

After we got done at Greenbluff, we went to have a sub sandwich (avacodo sandwich...o so good!) and then we went up to see my Grandma and Granpa Ballard!
We love my grandparents...something I have really appreciated, being as previous relationships never cared for meeting my family. Erich shows a genuine interest in my siblings, in my parents, and in my grandparents. Especially my grandparents. And my grandparents have really gotten attached to him.

We went over around 2:00, and stayed until 9:30ish. I couldn't believe it-we stayed up just talking about politics, and movies, and music, and relationships, and family. We talked about money, and the economy. My grandparents told the hilarious stories about family functions and their outcomes. And I felt like they were the best family I ever had. They like talking to me more than my own parents do. My own relatives. Anyone. It's nice.

It was great!

So that was my Day!

Friday, October 26, 2007


Today I went to visit my son Alex. Oh, as you may or may not know, I am currently in the midst of battling my ex for my son. The thing that stops me is that I'm in a different state, and legally I can't take him out of state unless we have custody set up.
It's been almost 5 months now, since Steve stated a lawyer would be sending me paperwork. It's been about 3 months now, that Steve has sworn they tried to deliver papers to me at work. Unfortunately, he forgets my work keeps that stuff on record, and no one has ever recalled speaking with anyone trying to give me legal crap.
I go each and every week to see my son, trying to bring diapers and food when I can. I sit in Sharons house, while she tells me that I'm psycho, and need serious help; to make sure my baby remembers who I am. And my heart aches.
So, today, when I waved goodbye to my boy, who scrunched up his face like he was going to cry, I made myself the promise that I wasn't going to wait anymore. I'm not going to try and keep things civil when they so blatantly lie to my face. I'm tired of being pushed around.
But most of all, I'm tired of missing my son.
I thought maybe there was something deeply wrong with me. Turns out, I have chemical imbalances that cause depression. I'm on the meds, seeking therapy. But I would NEVER hurt my son. NEVER. The only thing they have going for them right now is that I told them I had a bad dream right after having Alexander that I killed him and Steve. Sharon took my baby away once, and told me I couldn't have him back until I stopped having bad dreams. I never let her take him away again. Until Steve and I broke up. And it's ironic: Steve doesn't actually take care of Alexander, Sharon does. Steve never knows when I'm going to visit, Sharon always makes me talk to her. Steve refuses to talk to me about Alexander, stating his lawyer said I wasn't to talk to him.
But if he really had a lawyer, I'm pretty sure I would have heard something by now.
Which leads me to believe he's lying about everything. EVERYTHING.

I'm tired of this game. I don't care if the whole family starts to try and turn Alexander against me. They can try to.

But this time, I've a feeling that something bigger than me, or them, is going to take them down.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Sickly Burger King

Erich learned a valuable lesson from last night:

Never, but NEVER eat from a fast food place hooked to a convenience store.

You will die slowly.

I guess it makes sense-I just never thought the icky diarrhea thing would transfer over into BK and mutate into a horrendously mild form of food poisoning.

Luckily for me, I have a stomach of iron. I ate and was very merry ( I love BK fries). Erich got the same thing I did, and suddenly, this morning, he was feeling sick, throbbing headache. He threw up water. I felt so bad for the guy. I pampered him, gave him mounds of pillows and some more water (bottled) to help if he threw up again. And then I gave him some top ramen, followed by more water.

So far, he's still really pale, and feels horrible, and talks like he just woke up. I'm hoping that he'll be alright in a few hours. We do have to work this afternoon.

Other than that, last night I went to another business meeting, and decided the speaker, Brad Duncan, is pretty much a long-winded comedian. He fielded all questions very well, and inspired the entire room. But then again, how can you NOT be inspired by a guy that makes more in one year than several people ever make in their life time.

I've been watching the news, and reading the reports about the economy, and it looks really bad. It looks like we may actually be in a full, head-on depression by 2010-2011. That scares the crap out of me. Because I'm not prepared at all. My job is not secure, I have nothing in the way of savings, (silly little me just realised what savings was!) and I have no back up plan. That's why I'm looking at ecommerce and going from there. At least then I'll have a backup plan, and then I'll be able to have some sort of residual income when things get rough.

Other than that, Jared, Erichs best friend should be coming back soon. I am told that Saturday he plans on hanging out with Cheryl, (his woman! eek! romantic!) and then maybe sometime next week we can all meet up and hang out. Little does unsuspecting Jared know, I have infiltrated the network, and kidnapped Cheryl already. Bwahaha, we make plans as I speak! The day will be glorious. And no, we will not play Scene-it, as both Erich and Jared have all the answers memorised.

Until later

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Hump Day!

Today is Wednesday. Happy Hump Day to all!

Yesterday Erich and I watched Maria's kids for her, since it was her boyfriends birthday, and she was excited to go out. Erich was a little nervous, I think, because they were 2 and 4. Before we went in, Erich and I had a conversation about how Erich wanted kids, and so did I, but when we were ready, and not before then. He truly is excited about having children-and I think that having someone who wants my kids is probably the greatest compliment that can be given.

So anyways, we stopped off, and grabbed some Coldstone. GOOD STUFF. *drool*

Maria and Aaron left. The kids eyed us and we eyed them. And we decided that watching a Mickey Mouse movie would not be unwise. Sad thing was, the 4 year old had to show us how to use the DVD Player. It was an interesting affair.

3 minutes later, kids settled, us settled, we spent the next 45 minutes watching Pluto "puto", Figaro "figo", Mickey "mihe" and Minnie. "Minnie." As soon as the movie was done, we told the boys it was time for bed. ON QUEUE, both boys began to bawl. I looked at Erich, and grinned. Now, we'd see the boy in action!

I will tell you, he handled it really well. He talked the 4 year old down, explained to him it was bedtime. He gave him his pull ups, which stopped the bawling instantly. The 4 year old crept into his bed, compliant in big boy undies, and cuddled to the pillow. My charge, the 2 year old, was much easier. As soon as I got his PJ's on, and all, he found his baby plane, and Binky, and was pretty much out like a light.

Afterwards, we munched on Coldstone, and watched Transformers on their probably 60 inch TV. This thing is ridiculously huge. Maria and Aaron came home, so we scooted out so they could enjoy the rest of their evening.

As we drove away, I asked Erich how it went. He decided that having children close together was an unwise thing. He also stated it was a little scary.

But he persevered, and still wants children. So all is well.

That's it for me.

Monday, October 22, 2007


Last night was very entertaining, and scary.

Middle of the day:Erich and I are doing what we both do on a Sunday;gaming. We're level-grinding along on Maplestory when suddenly BOOM. His computer just turns off. At first we looked at my computer, make sure it wasn't an outage. But my computer was fine. It wasn't running on battery or anything. So we kinda scratch our heads....then the smell of overcooked plastic reaches my nostrils. We both look at each other, then it's a mad scramble to get the case off so we can see what happened.
The power supply went through a total melt down. Luckily, everything else was completely untouched. Thank God-motherboards are expensive crap! So we call the guy who made the computer for us, BDD, and he says he just gave his last power supply away. Apparently he's been using that power supply for years. Go figure.
So now, Erich's itching to get it fixed, and decides to take an extremely old power supply from a dell, and put it into the computer. Nothing happens. We think it's because the power supply is very small, can't be more than 200V, so there's no way it can run his gaming computer. So, we're forced to agree that it's time to get a new one.
Now here's were things get scary: Erich decides that maybe it's something the power supply is hooked to, so he takes the blackened power supply and hooks it to the Dell and turns the thing on. This is what happens when I don't watch him. *sigh*
HUGE white sparks shoot out, along with a particularly snappy crackle noise. He jumps back, moving very quickly for an big guy. After verifying that he a) didn't get electrocuted, and b) didn't completely destroy the Dell, I grounded him from playing with the computer parts.
He finally wheedled his way into my good graces, so I let him take apart the now completely blackened power supply, for amusement purposes.
The other thing is now Erich needs a new power supply. While I have no problem in getting him said power supply, I just got into the habit of saving, and don't want to jeopardize that. It's severely hard for me to save money, and I don't want to feel all stressed out all over again. So I'm asking him to wait to buy it until Friday. He can use my laptop in the meantime to check his email and stuff, but I'd prefer to wait.
Now I must prepare for the bribery that will set forth. It's gonna be a long week. Made even longer with the use of one computer.
And it's going to be hard for me to share my lappy, knowing that he will be using her. Knowing that he just HAD to have the computer BDD wanted to sell him. How I just had to BUY it before September was over. *sigh* He's so funny when it comes to shiny stuff.
Anywho. Gotta get ready for the work day.
Oh, other side note-these drugs make it so hard to sleep. I'm supposed to take them 8 hours apart to avoid the uncommon side effect of seizures. But doing so means taking on at 7:00, which is when I get up, and then taking one at 3:00. That means the sleeplessness that usually lasts for 8 hours of the drugs effects wont wear off until 11:00PM. I refuse to stay up that late.
So, my choices are: lose sleep, crash anyways. Or take drugs 6 hours apart, and maybe up my chances for seizures. Hmmmm....choices.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Life After 7:45AM

It was very early when I woke up the first time...4:00AM to be specific. But I was suddenly, inexplicably awake. Couldn't go back to sleep for sometime, which has caused in irrational need to sleep at all times.
Today, Erich and I went to church. We've never gone to church together before, but I felt it would be great to go, hear a lecture, blend in, and get out of the house.
When we were getting ready, Erich starts laying out this nice suit attire, and I had to snort. "Erich, when was the last time you went to church?"
Then came the sheepish response of "when I was really young."
I had to explain, ironically, that the culture had changed since then. We no longer wear suits and ties or dresses to church. Girls and guys both show up in sweatshirts and jeans, hair thrown back in a pony tail or under a baseball hat.
He was shocked and amazed, when we pulled up, how true that was. I was more shocked and amazed with the absolute size of the place. It was really big.
I took notes throughout the lecture-Erich squished between me, and a woman holding a VERY young more than 2 months old. He handled it well, for being nervous about the little thing.
There was one moment that really stuck out for me today. In the middle of the lecture, an old man in a wheelchair was pushed into the room. He had one of those tubes that go in your nose to help you breathe. And his barely-there hair was sticking up in tufts. And he was grinning to shame a fox. But what struck me was the woman pushing him. You knew she was his wife, from the familiar, and comfortable way she patted his shoulder as the wheeled through the back walkway. Her hair was hidden under a bonnet, and her clothes were definitely something an old woman wore. But I saw the way they settled in, her immediately turning the pages for him, tidying down his tufts as best as she could. He finally grabbed her hand in his shaky one, and squeezed it gently. And she settled.
Just watching them, loving, together, probably for a very long time, I looked at Erich, and decided I would like to do that. Not the wheeling thing-he's a big guy...I'd crumble. But maybe he could push me. Or little Millers would push both of us. Either way, when my body starts to show the wear and tear, I want to have my heart still beating fiercely when I see him. Maybe I know that years down the road, it'll only be comfortable. The excitement of our marriage will have worn down, we'll just enjoy each day. But I want, sometimes, for that reminder, that flame, to flicker and show us both what brought us together. I see my grandparents, happy as clams, and they really are the only people I know that I want to be like, in more ways than one. I need that model, that goal. It's something that drives me.
And I have my views of relationship: Grace is necessary: One needs grace to forget the small things, to help clear the air to get to the root of the bigger things.
Love isn't fireworks in your stomach: Love is being there when your angry with each other, when your stuck eating top ramen, and when your other halfs family hates you. Love is persevering through the hard times, and remembering why you got into the relationship.
Its okay to be comfortable: It happens. It will. And I have to understand Erich wont love me any less when it does. It means he's finally be able to get a grip on those fireworks whenever we see each other.

I feel like thinking a lot today. Lectures do that to me.

I'm hoping, HOPING, that maybe this is the missing link. I remember going to church and feeling so alive. So full of hope....I felt like I was okay.

I want to feel that way again.

My friend Matthew, from second grade, said something to me once: "Once you go God, there's no going back."
It's true. Once you believe in's kinda hard to forget about him. Heh.

I'm out.

Saturday, October 20, 2007


I'm back. Please note, my arm pits are now medicated, and have not itched since I slathered, (like cream cheese on a bagel) the medicated ointment on. I whisper thanks to the ointment God in the sky.
Lemme start at the beginning. I get there, find out I make too much to qualify for sliding scale fees. So I slap down the 15.00 co-pay, and wait. Waiting, for me, is the worst part. You begin thumbing through month old magazines, where the address is cut out of the front. You realise that you remember when Al Gore received his little statue guy, and was pressed to announce his candidacy for Pres. You realise Family Circle is hell on an empty stomach. But you can't put the stupid thing down-because some foreign sticky substance has glued you to it.
Not only that, but you get some "creepy" types down at the clinic. Such as: grumpy man who took many much hydros, and doesn't get his refill for a few days. Unfortunately, because of substance control regulations, he gets to lay in pain for a few days until it's time to get them refilled. I felt bad for the guy, but it's not like I can do anything. After all, I've got this rash, see, and my hands are firmly cemented to pages 9 and 10 of Family Circle.
Finally, this nurse guy comes out, and all I can think is....dude...take off the scrubs and join the NFL as a linebacker. This guy is built like a friggin brick. Not old either-and his deep voice made me think of Michael Clarke Duncan. Except he's white. So Tonto takes me to get weighed-a traitorous way to make any sick woman feel better. Especially since this one is getting married, AND is on the depo shot. I gained 15 pounds. Now I'm itchy, depressed, and feeling like a jelly donut. We continue the journey to the room.
In the room, he stood, legs spread like he was ready to do battle. He raised his HUGE hands, and delicately started punching keys. Can anyone say how much of an oxymoron this guy is? He shoots questions at me like I'm being questioned by the police.
"How tall are you?"
"Any epilepsy? Seizures?"
"You got a family, shrimp?" (Yeah, he called me shrimp the ENTIRE time)
Finally, mercifully, after answering all the questions, he tells me in a You-will-do-this-cheerfully-or-I-will-chew-you-like-gum attitude that it's time for a depression evaluation.
A kind of a jolt hit me-and I realised I needed to be super honest about this. I was tired of being angry for no reason. And then sad. And then frustrated. And always, always, always, the underlying current of exhaustion.
I was honest. Tonto did not "soften" per say, (I doubt a man in his....body...could) but he did speak more kindly to me. After the questionnaire was over, which I felt was answered very honestly, he looked me in the eyes, and said "Shrimp, we've gotta get you on something. You're killing me here." He lectured me on how depression can cause all sorts of weird illnesses.
Then he released me, allowing my doctor to take over.
Martha was a generously sized woman, and she had the most ruddy cheeks I had ever seen in my entire life. She came in, looked at my results, and advised me that I was offered counseling and Wellbutrin. I took the drugs, AND the counseling. And the ointment. The ointment is more of a protective film on steroids. Literally. Steroids that help stop the inflaming, the puffiness, and the itching. Oh, bless steroids for taking my itchy pits away.
So I go to the pharmacy, which is down the hall, and I ask them to fill said prescriptions. I am told, courteously, by a woman who's eyes were hidden under the shaggiest of brown bangs, that they will be ready in 15 minutes. I sit, and eye the magazines dubiously.
Remember the creepy types? Well, there's also the scary types: A man dressed in gangsta, wearing a red, fuzzy jumpsuit. And three kids followed him in. Kid One:Female. Wearing the latest styles, and sporting cornrows. She was going in for dental work. The DA came out to grab her, when the man said "All she needs is drugs, lady." The DA says, "I will take an X-Ray and find out." Grumbling, Fuzz-Suit sits down across from me. And so do his kids. He eyes me dubiously.
Let me clarify something:We have a low black population in Spokane. I don't blame them: Aryan Nations lives NEXT DOOR. Nevertheless, I was have an obviously world-hardened black man with three kids, one sporting a tooth ache, on sporting a fro, and one sporting a cutsie lil fuzz suit like her daddy staring at me.
Then his phone rings. Not even three minutes later, that phone dies. Just as I tense up to grab a sticky magazine, to at least shield the force of their stares, he pulls out three other phones. All trac-phones. And starts calling people.
Now I dunno about you-but when a guy in our neighborhood has several black phones, he's asking "Li'l Andy" about "the stash" and warning him to not "mess the client, yo, I'm getting a clearer picture that I've a dealer sitting across from me-making a deal on the phone, and glaring at me as if I ought to do something. ANYTHING.
Luckily for me, my prescription was filled. Erich was waiting to collect me, so I breezed out the front door, and ran to the car.
SO. I got a lot done today. Fixed a lot of things, and made a lot of differences in my world.
I took my first pill at one, got loopy, bought groceries, and snuggled in bed with Erich, while the outside world stormed around me.
And you know what? I finally feel as if I can see a glimmer of light at the end of this dark tunnel that I fell into.
I am so excited about being free.

Laziness At Work

Despite efforts to keep my poor, abused eyelids opened, I find myself losing this battle. Hence the post. O.0

Should I be posting at work? Not so much, but I don't think anyone cares enough. We don't take enough calls to occupy us. I believe the IT guys wont mind a few bloggers. If I get fired....well...heh. I guess it'll allow me more excuses to lose weight! Try to keep the bright side.

Okay. So, I'm back from lunch. See, my problem is the insurance for where I work is pretty much "Name-only" Insurance. My definition of that is I-have-insurance-but-it-doesn't-actually-pay-for-anything Insurance. So why would I pay to have insurance I wont ever be able to use? Hence me not having insurance. Fortunately for me, we have clinics, for the financially-impaired. While I have no problem giving money if it means better health, I'm hoping my problem will be fixed CHEAPLY. I have a physical problem. Kinda embarassing, but what the hell, it's my blog.
For the last month or so, I've developed a horrible rash on my underarms. I changed my deodorant twice, nothings working. I debated briefly that it might be my laudry detergent, by I sweat a lot, and no other place on my body is showing the slightest irritation. I think it may be connected to the razors I've been using called "Intuition". But I tried using other razors, and not shaving to see if it would go away...nothing really works. But I fall into the catergory of "cheap-ass." Meaning, unless it's dire, I don't go to the doc. I believe in the home remedies of aspirin and occasional duct tape. It's worked. I briefly considered the ramifications of taping my armpits, but the idea was kinda wierd, so I canned it. And it's mighty unattrative to hug a hot guy with duct tape crinkling. Not really something I like explaining. SO.

I had the extremely awkward honors of being in the lunch room when I called the Clinic (after deliberating at 4:00 in the morning if one could die from the need to itch, and deciding it wouldn't be unnecessary to seek proffesional help). The lady who answered at first tried to tell me they were busy, but I could call back on Monday. I'm like, "Lady, you don't understand. This is URGENT." Hesitation...."how urgent?" I look around the lunch ears. "Lady, I can't move my arms or sleep at night my armpits are so swollen." Silence. "Well, lemme speak to my supervisor, see if we can squeeze you in."
Long moments later, feeling like I was being attacked by fleas, she came back on, cheerfully advising me that I could come in at 1:00 PM, or wait until Monday. Awkward, being as I didn't get off until 2:00. I went to my supervisor, gave a long-suffering look, and explained, delicately, the ramifications of flesh eating diseases. I was awarded my time off. Erich will drive me, as I'm sure no one wants to see my on the free way itching my armpits, and trying to drive at the same time.

So. We'll see if maybe I can get this fixed, (praying, praying) and maybe get something for my crazy mood swings. Although I think with the arm issue being fixed, I might be able to sunny myself up. I think, if God gave me a solution to my pit-y-ful (see the EH?) (elbow) situation, I'd go to church every Sunday. Pretty sure....Although I'd make a clause that states I can miss at least 2 a year....for sleeping or recreational purposes. Ah hem.

That's about all for me. Maybe I'll take pictures of my hideously disfigured pits of doom and post them. So I can gross people out.


Friday, October 19, 2007

Stardate 10192008

I love the feel of starting up a new blog in a familiar place. It makes me feel like I came to a remodeled house I grew up in. It's delightful, scary, exciting, and breathtaking. But most of's mine.

So welcome to my new home. I've had many blogs over the years. I'm not going to name them, because these blogs depressed the absolute crap out of me. The past is bitter.

My name is Stephanie. I live in Washington. Born and raised next door in Idaho, I am...a real dork. I punctuate a good joke or a funny story with a signature snort-complete with red face and gaped teeth. I have corkscrew brown hair, amateur highlighted-poorly, in my opinion. I have gained quite a few pounds-much to my chagrin. I have a wedding dress to fit into, after all, and this makes it harder to do. I'm of the legal age to drink, and found I only do it VERY occasionally. I tend to be a huger fool when I'm completely loaded. It's kinda sad. And since I do quite a bit of retarded all by myself, I really don't need alcohol to finish the job.

I have a son, his name is Alexander Maxwell. He has blond corkscrew curls, big, blue eyes, and a softness for technology. He's VERY independent. He does NOT like to be carried. He prefers to walk all by his big-boy self up and down the street, pinkie finger firmly in his grasp. And he snores in his sleep-enduring little snore, makes me almost tear up at the simple cuteness of him sometimes.

I am dating again. His name is Erich, and he's perfect. He's...the yin to my yang. After a rough patch of freaking myself out about guys, trust, and relationships, and almost losing Erich, I found that he is the one. THE ONE. The words sound dramatic, but they so fit him. When I get paranoid about a girl, he soothes my ruffled feathers. He introduces them to me. He talks to me about them. When I wake up at 7:30 AM on a Saturday with a tummy that screams to be filled with IHOP hashbrowns, he does the honors and drives. He loves my son, (I think he loves the Tonka trucks more) and he respects me. Which is still something I have issues recognising. What is this respect you speak of? And what can it do for me? I was deeply scarred, but I'm doing a heck of a lot better now.

I realised that I may have a chemical problem, or a mental problem. I prefer chemical. Keep more friends that way. I tend to get angry or depressed for no reason at all sometimes. I don't want to hurt myself or something stupid like that. I just get so FRUSTRATED and ANGRY, I tend to just distance myself from everyone while I try, desperately, to figure out what the hell is wrong with me.

I am waiting to get some treatment, to get back on the meds. I hope it happens soon.

I am getting married, on February 6th, 2008. At the Coeur d Alene Wedding Chapel. It's a beautiful spot with some major history, and it's right next to the lake. One could, if one went at a certain time, see an Ironman Triatholon while looking out stained glass windows. One could walk from said church and see a floating golf course, and beautiful mountains and one of the cleanest lakes in the world. It's the perfect place for a home town girl to get married.

I am imperfect. I do forget things, I still have trust issues, and I have issues with driving, still. May God forgive me my transgressions, and give me the strength to not grip the steering wheel until my knuckles are white.

That's all for me today. Until more soul-searching.