Upset

I am awake at 3 am, again! Blue and I went to bed at around 6:30 and watched a movie. We turned off the lights and went to sleep for 9 but I woke up at 12:30 or so. I looked at my phone and saw a text message from a friend. The message had upsetting news and I have not been able to fall asleep again. I finally just gave up and came to the living room.

I watched The Amazing Race and I'm now watching all last week's General Hospitals. I DVR'ed the Oscars but I did that in my room so I have to wait. My heart is racing and my stomach feels empty and fluttery. I feel both restless and tired, anxious and worn out. I am fighting the urge to eat. It's times like these that I wish I still smoked. But I don't.

I ask that you pray for a family that I know. They have a very, very young baby girl who is fighting to live. This is a DIFFERENT baby from before. Life is just so unexpected and fragile and scary.

Labels: emotional, friends, personal

Happy Birthday, Rhianna

I have been thinking about the "Rhianna/Chris Brown" incident a lot. I didn't have my computer when it happened but I sure wanted to discuss it. Today, a photo has popped up on the Internet of her after she was beaten. It is disturbing so look at your own risk. I'm not putting it here so you'll have to search for it.

I'm disgusted by this whole incident. I love Rhianna but even if I didn't, I would still be disgusted. I really liked Chris Brown, too. He is attractive and talented and so young. I don't understand this kinda behavior. Maybe I am very naive, I admit that, but how can you inflict that much pain on someone you claim to love? How can this happen?

I think that he should be punished. It was easy for him to pay the $50,000 in bail (or whatever the amount was) and we all know how (some) people treat celebs. I'm thinking OJ Simpson, helllllooooo! We all know how that abusive relationship ended for Nicole Brown. I am not saying that Chris Brown is the same as OJ Simpson, but maybe I am. Abuse starts somewhere, right? Where do people like this draw the line?

I am a firm, firm, firm believer in abuse awareness. I believe that boys need to be taught from an early age that it is NOT OKAY to hit a woman. It's not okay for a woman to hit a man either. Girls need to be taught about self-worth early on, even though it doesn't always help. I was always loved and cared for and appreciated and I still allowed someone to mistreat me. I was not beaten but I was severely mistreated. I want to help promote awareness for this. I don't want anyone to suffer in silence.

I don't know all the answers. I don't know why some men do this and I certainly don't know why women allow it. I spent a long, long time trying to figure out why I allowed someone to treat me badly and I cannot say that I found a good enough answer. I was deeply ashamed of myself. I didn't want my parents or friends to know and I didn't know why I stayed. I felt sorry for him and I always had an excuse.

I hope that Rhianna finds strength. I hope that she can be an inspiration and that she will bounce back from this. I hope that Chris Brown gets the serious help that he needs and is treated like every abuser should. Beating up a person like that is a big deal. It's not funny, it's not okay and it should not be overlooked.

Happy 21st Birthday, Rhianna!

Labels: Celebs, My story, personal

New Year

I'm excited that things are going to begin getting back to normal soon. The children go back to school, work schedules resume, my tv shows come back...

I plan to go tomorrow to register for a class or two. I don't know what exactly I'll need to do but I'm sure that someone can help me. I'm very excited about it. I'm very nervous about it. I went to high school a long time ago. I left in 1998 and got my GED which is something I don't like to discuss. I had a lot of health and personal problems and I just couldn't "do" school anymore. I still had an overall 3.2 average (or something like that).

I did very, very well on my ACT. I did very, very well on the GED test (it was a joke). Still, I'm scared TO DEATH that college will be too hard for me and I will fail. I'm extremely afraid of stupid. And failure.

I am not so good at the Math. I had some poor teachers in middle school and I don't think that my basic skills were ever very strong. I understand Algebra when it's taught to me but I don't know fractions or even how to add multiple numbers. My multiplication isn't so great either. I will probably have to take remedial Math(s) in college. That is okay, I guess. I need to learn.

I didn't know if I should share all this here but I thought, "Why not?" It's like everything else- my addictions, my weight, my depression, my recovery- it's me. I want to have these things written down. I have so many feelings about this subject and writing helps me. If you enjoy reading about it in the process, so be it.

Labels: life, personal, school

Home Sweet... Not Yet!

We closed on the hose on Wednesday, like I said at the end of the last post. It was really good. It feels really, really good being a homeowner. We have done a lot of things together, been through a lot of things that people shouldn't have to ever do together but this is a good thing.

My friend, Melissa, and I packed up my kitchen on Tuesday. I through away all the Tupperware that didn't match (bottoms with no lids, lids with no bottoms- I had lots of lids) and some cracked, smudgy plastic cups. I left a few plates, cups, silverware and pots and pans for us to use. I forgot bowels though. Of course, that is the FIRST thing Blue needed when he got home. Oh well.

Wednesday night, Blue packed up my car with as much of the kitchen stuff and our clothes that we had packed on Sunday. I drove over to mom and dad's to see dad who was just getting home from out-of-town on business. Dad had never been inside the new house so he wanted to come over and Blue had to stay at the "old" house to do work.

I had never been inside the "new" house (that is how we are referring to the houses) after dark. I was nervous because of all of those feeling things that I'd talked about here before. Plus, ya'll know I have sleep issues. We unpacked the car and I gave daddy the grand tour. He loved it and I was just so happy. I imagined the house with the furniture in it and giving the tour, over and over to more friends and family.

Here are some pictures that I took today before the furniture was delivered.

Labels: house buying, life, me, personal, pics

Sharing My Truths

I have to be honest. This is a hard thing for me to write about. I want to discuss it because it has affected me over and over in one way, shape or form throughout my life. Suicide.

When I was in the fifth grade, my best friend Brett's dad shot and killed himself. It was so very terrible. Brett was left feeling confused and angry and guilty. Three years later, Brett died and his mom had to go through that alone. I remember talking to Brett in class about his life after THE DEATH. How he dreamt of his dad. How he felt responsible for his mom and sister. How he wished his dad hadn't made that choice.

Later in my life, I began suffering from depression. I was suicidal myself. I was so deeply despondent, hurting so bad that I just wanted to go to sleep forever. I felt that I was so irreparably broken and damaged that everyone would be better if I just died. My life was dark, dark, dark. Nothing had gone the way that I thought it would and I felt so lost and in so much pain. Words cannot adequately describe that time in my life.

I did things to myself. I was a cutter at one time. I picked and picked at my lips, nails, feet until they bled. I punished myself for a lot of things. I over medicated myself and did not care. If I could've been left alone in my bed, that would've been fine.

But, I wasn't cause you know my mama wouldn't do that. She wasn't gonna let me go without a fight! She was scared and mad and all of that but she fought. She got me help and eventually it helped.My great grandmother committed suicide when she was 7 and that was very hard on my grandmother, of course. When talking about suicide, my mom always told me, "Someone has to find you. Usually it's someone who loves you."

I'm talking about this now because it is so important that we all talk about our truths. Depression, anxiety, and the like are diseases and can be treated. These things do not need to be taboo. I just want to encourage everyone to reach out if they are feeling depressed. NOTHING is that bad.

I know that life can be overwhelming. Everyone's story is different. Be kind to each other. Pay attention to your loved ones. If you feel overwhelmed, sad, sad, sad and helpless, reach out to someone. Often times just talking to someone will help you feel a little better. If you or someone you know is suicidal, call 1-800-273-TALK or go to the nearest ER. You are valuable.

I am not ashamed of my past. I hope that my big mouth, my ability to speak and my love of people can help just ONE person. If I can help you or someone you know, please email me at shoeaddict 17 at gmail dot com.

Labels: life, personal

The Vampire Book Is Not Helping!

Thank you to everyone who asked about my health and offered to pray for me. Please know that I appreciate all the kindness and prayers are always welcomed. Here's an account of what happened yesterday in case you are interested.

My dad usually brings me to see my doctors. They are in New Orleans which is about a 50 minute drive from where I live. Well, dad got called to do a job (or something ?) so, I asked my friend, Melissa to bring me. At 6:30, Melissa's husband text messaged me to tell me that she had a stomach virus. I called my mom and she re-arranged her meeting to take me. Luke was waiting for his new office furniture and couldn't bring me. The day was starting with a bang!

Mom was coming at 12:00 so we could go for lunch first. I was sure to wear my diamond hoops and diamond earrings (sparklies, for Hannah!) for luck. I wore a GREAT white eyelet top and dark jeans. Shoes- leopard print ballet flats. Mom and I ate at Quiznos and were on the road for 12:45. My appointment was at 2:30 so we figured we had plenty of time. It was very nice to be with mom. We have always been extremely close. We have the same sense of humor and laugh a lot. I was nervous and talking and talking and talking.

Then, we stopped. Forever. We saw nothing but cars and we were on the bridge. I just thought about the bridge that collapsed in Minnesota and I'm SO glad I didn't think about that yesterday. It took us an hour and a half to get across! All we saw were a few cars on the side of the road so, I have no clue what the hold up was. Once we got into the city, it began to rain. Not a little shower, either. It was a torrential downpour. We couldn't see in front of us and the streets started to flood. We took the exit that was one too soon because we couldn't see and we were on flooded streets. It was awful.

It was already 3:00 so I called the Dr and explained my situation. I wouldn't have taken "no" for an answer. I have waited MONTHS for this appointment and I HAD to have an audience with this man. The nurse told me I could still come on up and see him. We got there and sat in the waiting room making notes in my little book. We left at 12:45 and got there at 3:15!! It normally takes 50-60 minutes tops. Ahhhh, it was an a-venture (a family saying).

The lady calls me back (mispronouncing my name *sigh*) and there it is. THE SCALE. I discover that I have gained weight and I now weigh 569,099 lbs. I wallow to the exam room and get my blood pressure and pulse taken. My bp was 90/60 and I have no clue what my pulse was (betting it was high). I then had to go through the litany of medications that I'm on and the dosages and blah, blah, blah... Then, it's just mom and me again and I. start. to. panic. What if he thinks I'm just a lazy cow? What if he comes in and tells me that my blood work (I went last week to get blood drawn) shows nothing, everything's normal? PANIC. CRY.



He comes in with his brilliant mind and crazy hair. He rattles off the medications, too, telling me how ridiculous it is that "A young, healthy girl is on so many medications." Ummmmm, yes, I know this. I was all proud because I weaned off of one. Then I go through the list of troubles, symptoms, problems I have. He tells me that my blood shows high insulin levels (already knew this), normal cortisol, high triglycerides... I'm severely insulin resistant (already knew that), have primary hypo-thyroid (already knew that), DOES NOT think I have an adrenal insufficiency! Instead, he's testing me (blood work) for a disease known as Cushings. It's basically the opposite of adrenal insufficiency. Very complicated and confusing.



He's adjusted some medications and given me some recommendations. I had a positive romberg and other neurological problems so, I have an appointment tomorrow with my neurologist. Then, more blood work on Friday. Lindsey said I will have no blood left!!!

He's sending me to a dietitian to be put on a diabetic diet and he wants me to have a sleep study done. I am praying that something works and I can lose some weight. I want to lose weight, get energy, be able to exercise, do my chores, and have a little bit of a life.

Labels: illness, personal

Book Happ'nins

Labels: books, new books, personal

Wouldn't Cross My Mind

Labels: life, Luke, personal

Open Letter

I received the following comment yesterday from someone named Kat. I thought that because I do have the abortion tally on my blog and I am adamantly pro-life and anti-abortion, I should address this openly.

I think it is absolutely and completely inappropriate of me to criticize your
opinion, but I am going to, because everytime I come to read your blog it is there...the
abortion tally you have posted. I see your point in posting it, but I don't
agree with its number. I don't think it clarifies the issue. I wish it
listed
how many women died in childbirth during that time. Or how many
children died
due to abuse from their parents, caregivers, foster parents,
or adoptive
parents. Or how many pregnant women were killed by their
partners/husbands
during that time. Or how many years children spend in
foster care or group homes
after being removed from an abusive home. I would
like to know, also, if
abortion were outlawed, what you personally think the
penalty should be for a
woman who has one--300 years ago it was death.I
would like to end this saying,
please DO keep your button. It reflects your
values. I only wished to express
mine. I know you've probably heard others
opinions about it, I just hope mine
was one that doesn't offend you, that
you can say, I see your point, but I don't
agree."

Let me begin by telling you, Kat, that I have not "heard others' opinions about it" and I don't "see your point". I am very strongly against abortion but, I'm also a child's rights advocate. The things you mentioned, child abuse, spousal abuse, etc., are illegal and morally wrong. I don't think that parents have the right to abuse their children. I don't think they have the right to murder them either. Everyone has choices- wear a condom, take the pill, protect yourself from pregnancy if you don't wont to be pregnant. I have been in a position where I absolutely could not get pregnant because of my life's situations and I did the ultimate birth control- abstinence.

I know that people will argue the circumstances when a woman didn't have the choice of birth control- in instances of rape and such. This is where my faith and true belief in God comes into play. I'm a Christian and that's the basis of it all. I believe that God gives us babies. They are not mistakes and he doesn't want us to get rid of them or mistreat them. There are countless families who are desperate for a child so, give the child a chance to live and give him or her up for adoption.

As far as this,"I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW, ALSO, IF ABORTION WERE OUTLAWED, WHAT YOU PERSONALLY THINK THE PENALTY SHOULD BE FOR A WOMAN WHO HAS ONE...", my answer to that is the punishment should be what the punishment is for premeditated murder.

I do understand that if the life of the mother is in jeopardy, that is a different story. I still wouldn't have an abortion but, I know my husband and family wouldn't agree. This is, again, a case where my strong faith in God comes in and I turn to those beliefs.

I know several people who have had abortions. Each woman still thinks of that child. Each woman knows the child's approximate birth date and age. Each woman mourns the loss of that child.

In closing, I want to say to you, Kat, that I have no memory of you ever commenting here. Do you come here often? (Ha Ha, like a pickup line) I want you and everyone else who reads The Diary to know that I don't post anything that I don't believe in or trust. I'm going to tell you the truth about what I like and don't. I'm going to tell you who I'm praying for and if I say I'm praying for you, I really am. If I say that I wear this lip gloss and love it, I really do wear it and I really do love it.

When it comes to things I'm passionate about, I know what I'm talking about. I'm not flippant about them. I didn't put the abortion button up just to do it. I know EXACTLY how I feel. And thanks for permission to keep it up because it's staying. You are more than welcome to come back and visit but, this ends this discussion. I'm not going to go back and forth and back and forth. I hope you do come back, I love my readers! I will not, however, compromise myself or my beliefs for anyone.

Labels: my beliefs, personal, pro-life

250- There's More Where Those Came From

This is my 250th post, or (diary) entry, as I like to refer to them. I've said it before and will say it again, blogging has been a wonderful thing for me. I have made friends with great people. I've learned about things I never would have learned about (and I love that). I've discovered all types of different parenting styles. I've also learned a little something about myself.

I have learned that I do have the talent to write and that people other than my mother will read what I write and, *gasp*, actually like it. I really have been pleasantly surprised by the comments made by total strangers (and, of course, by my mother) about my writing. I enjoy knowing that what I've written has sparked some sort of emotion- laughter or tears or even just a second thought to a topic. I appreciate that from a writer so, I have been very glad to get those comments.

I have also observed that in the blogging world, like any other, there are cliques. Some of you may have noticed the cliques, or not. I've always been the girl who was friends with every type of group in school. I can get along with anyone. I have a wide spectrum of interests and so I visit lots of different types of blogs. There is one group in particular that, even though I comment on a few of their blogs, I get no response. Hey- whatever! I still read a certain one everyday with the rest of my favs and continue to comment and be ignored. I have a feeling as to why I'm not allowed but, if I say, I'd be alienating an entire group of people that don't deserve it. I could be wrong, too. It's happened before.

I have also noticed that the harder I work on an entry, the more people seem to ignore it!! In that I mean that I feel like I get less comments on those entries. Guess I shouldn't do book reviews anymore? Ummmmm, nah! I enjoy it. But, I love comments, too!! So, tell me what you want MORE of and what you want LESS of, m'kay?

Now, let me tell you what's coming up at The Diary.

• Question of the Day- I will just be asking random questions and you will just answer in the comments. Easy. Questions will range from "What's your favorite song today?" to "Are you pro-life or pro-choice?" You can always put Anonymous in the name.
• Don't forget that I post more than once sometimes in a day!
• Eye Shadows- I'm going to do a product review on my FAVORITE brand. No one will read it or comment I'm sure!!
• Social Passions- I'm a passionate person. I have strong beliefs and I WILL be talking about them... Can The Diary handle that? Or should I do like Kelli did with her Eating Real Food blog and do an entirely different blog? Thoughts?
• Fall Trends... Who's with me?
• Mary Jane's- I love 'em, of course, and they're making a comeback!

Thanks for your feedback on any or all of this! Thanks for reading The Diary!!

P.S. If you've left a comment and I haven't emailed a response, check the comments. If you don't find one there, I'm working on it!

P.P.S Do you want the MUSIC back? Or no?

Labels: feedback, my blog, personal

Book Review-3

It's 2:23 am and I finished reading this book and I'm so sad. I should've paced myself. I should've savored it. But, I did not and I knew I wouldn't.

I got up just to write this because I couldn't stop composing it in my head. It's The Urge. OK, so, the book. I gave you guys what booklist said about it. Now, here's MY take and a lil bit of me and how MY shoe addiction plays into it.

Lorna Rafferty works as a waitress, is single and in debt. She has CREDIT CARDS. S. More than one. A lot. And she l.o.v.e.s shoes. A lot. She gets her electricity cut off and notices about her car being repossessed but, she is still going on ebay, rationalizing that Marc Jacob boots at $150.00 (or something) is an investment because that's a steal of a deal. *Cut to me. I love shoes. I have many, many, MANY, pairs. BUT, I do not own a pair that are designer. Oh, trust that I will. But, I am not a shoe snob. I have Pay Less shoes. The most expensive shoes I own are Birkenstocks and, those are not my favorites. Not even in the top 5. Or even 10!*

Lorna gets this idea that there might be other "addicts" like her in her area. She goes on "Gregslist" and writes up an ad: Shoe Addicts Anonymous- Are you like me? Love shoes but can't keep buying them? If you wear a 7 1/2 medium and are interested in swapping your Manolos for Maglis, etc., Tuesday nights in the Bethsida area, email Shoegirl2205@aol.com or call 301-555-5801. Maybe we can help each other.

Helene Zaharis is a senator's wife in a loveless marriage. She too is a shoe addict and her husband controls her with the money. She seeks shoes and friendships in the group. Her character is a good one. Her husband is sleazy.

Sandra is an overweight, agoraphobic, phone-sex operator who loves shoes, too. She has plenty of money to feed her addiction for shoes but, is challenged by her therapist to join a group or something to get out of her house. When she stumbles across the ad, she decides to try it, "Just once." Sandra finds more than just shoes but, friends and herself.

And finally, Jocelyn, the naive nanny. She doesn't care about shoes but, just wants to get out of the house or her nights off or her boss will give her work to do, that she doesn't pay her for! She joins the group and brings shoes she spends hours searching for in thrift stores and vintage shops. I get really angry at her employer, Mrs Oliver. I would be sooooo mad and cry a million times if I worked for her.

Of course, there are some aspects of the story that are far-fetched. One particular thing that bugs me a lot. Most far-fetched incidents in stories don't bother me but, this one did. I cannot really say what it is and it probably won't bother anyone else. I'll discuss it later after giving you all a chance to read. And I do expect SOMEBODY to read it.

I related very much to some of the characters, if not a few. I do believe that I have an obsession with shoes that others don't. The way they are described in the book, the arches and the heels and the smells. The feeling that the girl gets when slipping them on her feet... I get that. I'm there. That is me. I've said before that when I get shoes in the mail, I instantly put them on and walk around the house in them. I wear them in whatever I'm wearing- pj bottoms and t-shirts, nightgowns, whatever. I will be lounging on the couch, watching TV or on the computer, wearing my favorite Old Navy pj shorts, old ratty t-shirt, and my 4 inch, red Steve Madden shoes. I gotta go pick out some shoes to wear! I've been wearing my black, Oh Deer! Marilyn's.

The book is hardcover, which I didn't know, and beautiful. I'm not giving it away but, will lend it out. I have put my name (just 3, not all 4- ha) and the date in it and everything. This is a big deal because the turnaround on books here is huge so they gotta go to make room for new ones. I've kept only the very special ("Valley of the Dolls"- which I've read a number of times, some J. Picoult, ummmm, it's 3 am, I can't think).

There are no sex scenes but, very dirty and graphic words (Sandra is a phone-sex operator) so you've been warned.

Now, who's gonna read it? Who's gonna read The Pink Ghetto? Picture Perfect? Hmmmmm???

EDITED TO ADD- There is a character named Holden. That is the ONE boy name that Luke and I agree on and reading it, saying it so many times (not that many)... I REALLY like it a lot!!! Just saying.

Labels: Book Review, personal, shoes

The Urge

I write. A lot. I always have. Pen to paper, that's always been my thing. I've always been crazy about a fresh notebook, a brand new pack of lined notebook paper- I always have a ton. And I'm a big sucker for pretty personalized stationary. I love my name(s), my initials, and monogram.

I've kept a diary/journal (is there a difference) for as long as I can remember. I have memories of writing silly songs at the kitchen table while waiting for my mom to get off the phone. I know I was very young. I taught myself how to read and write early, 4, maybe. I can remember vividly the first time I read by myself. My parents were amazed and I was so proud.

This was one of the many wonderful gifts my mom gave to my brother and me; books and words. She read to us while we were still in her womb. She read to us each night before bed. She joined book clubs so that we had many, many books in our home always. We were always encouraged to read and both of us, well, all three of us, still are avid readers.

I am the writer. I write letters. Yes, still. I write to both of Luke's grandmothers in Georgia. I wrote long letters to my Paw Paw Harry when he was alive. I write letters to Luke, to my mom, to everyone. I do have my own fancy embossed stationary that I just love. It's ivory and plain and elegant and heavy. I also have some fun stationary, too.

I get the urge to write. All. The. Time. It's happening more and more. I'm on unfamiliar ground with the feeling of the my thoughts being poured out onto a screen instead of my familiar handwriting on the paper in front of me. It took awhile for the release to be there, to be found in the typing of the keys instead of the holding of the pen. I have my personal journal that I write in and that will never change. It's like therapy. For me, when something has happened such as a fight with a friend or Luke or whatever, writing my feelings about it in the journal helps me sort out my feelings. Sometimes I see the situation differently. Most times I realize that it's not at all as bad as it seemed or I can better see a resolution.

Now that I have "the story" going, I have had to abandon the pen and put my new found computer skills to use. I am only learning how to do all of this now. I didn't take computer classes in high school. I was sick a lot (A LOT) and missed school a lot (A LOT) so, I was making up the classes I needed instead of electives. Funny how I still managed to go through the dreaded P.E. and the fabulous drama, though, hmmmmm. Anyway, I couldn't even type like a normal person. I hen pecked like the best of them. I learned where to put my hands ("home row keys") in middle school and that was about it. Now, I'm doing much better. I'm certainly not hen pecking anymore.

I am finding myself reaching for my laptop as an addict would reach for her pipe. I need the fix. It's something I NEED to do. I must write. The stories tell themselves to me and I wonder if real writers feel this way. Did Scout haunt Harper Lee? Was Scarlett keeping Margaret Mitchell company while she did her everyday tasks? Did these characters call to their creators and fight to have their stories told or am I schizophrenic?

They say the signs start in early to mid-twenties, right? I'm just saying

Labels: My story, personal, writing

Ain't No Sunshine When He's Gone

Let me tell you something, this whole house is different when he leaves. I don't breathe right until he walks back into my arms. I'm not saying that I don't have a life without him. I am not saying that I need him to survive and make decisions and that without him I am nothing.

I am saying that I don't like to be in the space that he is not. I don't want to make decisions that don't include him the outcome. I refuse to think of a life without him permanently.

Luke leaves from New Orleans tomorrow morning at 5:45 to ultimately get to Canada (somewhere near Lake Huron). He will be there until Wednesday the 22nd. I know, I know, you think i should be used to him being gone. It's very hard to explain. I'm used to him being gone in that I'm OK being by myself, eating alone, hanging out alone, etc. But, I will never be used to him leaving. I hate that part. And missing him. It's an ache and like a part of me is gone.

We don't have kids and I have always been a very nurturing wife. I love to baby him. I like to fuss over him when he's sick and I worry about all kinds of little things that moms would worry about if their children are out-of-town. Right or wrong, it's what I do. I worry about if he gets sick, is he eating right 'cause I know he'll only eat crap if I don't tell him not to do that, is he drinking enough water, is he drinking too much beer, is he sleeping OK because a little secret is he has a little trouble sleeping without me and so it takes him a few days... He's my baby!

I guess you have to understand that because we have no kids and we've been together since we were both 18 years old, we have an extreme connection. We have private jokes. Meaningful looks that say monologues. Hugs and kisses that convey what a Hallmark never could. I don't know if we have a normal marriage. I don't know if we have what everybody has. I know what I have and I know that it means everything.

I know for sure that I need you to pray for my Blue as he goes on this journey. He is still not completely comfortable with flying and all of this traveling is for his new position-he was promoted to operations manager of the gulf coast region locations in LA.

I also know that there ain't no sunshine when he's gone

Labels: love, Luke, personal, prayer request, sad

"Pizza, Pizza, Don't Eat Me..."

My Paw Paw Harry used to have the funniest sayings. He said things like, "Pizza, Pizza, don't eat me, eat that little girl/boy behind the tree!" Or "Once upon a time, a goose drank wine, a monkey played the fiddle on a sweet potato vine, the vine broke, the monkey got choked, they all went to heaven on a little steamboat."

Paw Paw Harry was born on August 10, 1921 in Melville, Louisiana. He was one of nine but, I don't remember where in the line up he fell. He was in the middle somewhere. The oldest was James and the youngest was my wonderful Aunt Tumpy. Her real name was Ollie Ruth but, when she was little she'd always tump over while sitting so she got that nickname. My Paw Paw worked hard as a young man and never ever stopped.

When I was born, I was lucky enough to have all four of my grandparents and some great-grandparents, too. My Maw Maw Beverly, Paw Paw Harry's wife (my daddy's parents) died when i was 3 and a half. My Paw Paw got lung cancer around then. He lived with us. There is a picture that I love of me and him. I'm standing in one of his cowboy boots! I was young and we could've lost him then but, thankfully we didn't and I got many more years to spend with him.

So many words can be used to describe Paw Paw. Hard-working, funny, loyal, loving, strong. The toughest man I have EVER known. Ever. When he needed to get his tonsils out, he insisted the doc take them out right there in the office. No drugs. The doctor handed him his tonsils back in a jar. He survived that first bout of lung cancer. He survived skin cancer on his face and became practically deaf. He never considered himself old or sick. He did exercises and worked outside in his shop making things out of wood.

Paw Paw loved his family. He has two kids, my dad and his sister, my Nanny Susan. Nanny has 3 children- Robby, Jennifer & Cody. My daddy has my brother, Justin & me. We all fought over who could sit by Paw Paw, who Paw Paw loved more, who could fix Paw Paw's plate (that was me & Jen). When you made a plate for Paw Paw, he needed a "pusher" and a "washer"- that's a piece of bread and a drink. Funny.

Jennifer had her first son, Hunter, in April of 2001. My Paw Paw was so proud to be a great-grandfather! Hunter was (is) a beautiful boy and was the best baby. I know how proud Jen was to give him such joy. I wished so much, and still do, that I could have had a child for him to see.

When I heard that Paw Paw had cancer again, the cancer that would ultimately take him away from us, I was so scared and beyond sad. What would life be like without him? None of wanted to find out.

When he went into the hospital, that final week, I was living in Georgia. My mom called and told me it was time to come. It was February 2002, Luke was at work and I was unable to move. Luke came home, packed all of our stuff, packed ME into the car and we drove. I cried and cried as he drove and the angry sky opened up and poured. It took about 11 hours to make a normal 8 hour trip. My poor Luke said that he was going to get me there on time no matter what and he did. He'd been working for hours and hadn't slept for over a day! Luke reminds me a lot of Paw Paw.

When I think about my Paw Paw now, I can hear his voice, see his smile and even feel his hands. The very last thing he ever said to me was, "I love you too much." Who could ask for anything more? He was so sweet and so good. So strong and so loyal. There is not a day that goes by that I don't want him to be here but, I know that in heaven he can dance (he was a great dancer!!), he walk with no pain, he can hear, he can see my Maw Maw, he sees us and deserves peace now.
Happy Birthday Paw Paw.... I miss you everyday. I love you and wish for One More Day

Last night I had a crazy dream
A wish was granted just for me
It could be for anything
I didn't ask for money
Or a mansion in Malibu
I simply wished, for one more day with you

One more day
One more time
One more sunset, maybe Id be satisfied
But then again
I know what it would do
Leave me wishing still, for one more day with you

First thing Id do, is pray for time to crawl
Then Id unplug the telephone And keep the TV off
Id hold you every second
Say a million I love yous
That's what Id do, with one more day with you

Leave me wishing still, for one more day
Leave me wishing still, for one more day

Labels: family, love, Paw Paw Harry, personal, tribute

Saturday Roundup

So, there's some stuff I gotta talk about and I think I'm gonna try the bullet point thing. Here we go:

• Luke and I are doing better. We are adjusting to new things and that's not always easy. But, we love each other very much and we're very committed to each other and our marriage. It's just difficult with him at times because he is not good with communication. I am obviously very good with communicating how I feel. I also think it's imperative in all relationships to have communication. Anyway, we are doing fine. We've been laughing and talking.
• Comments. When you comment on my blog do you want me to respond? Because when I comment on blogs I like a response. So, when you comment on my blog, I get it in my email and I usually will send you a response through email if I know you have your email address connected that way. Some of you don't because I've gotten a "no reply". I will respond in the comment section. I haven't been doing that lately and I'm sorry.
• Thanks so much for your prayers. Like Diann said on her blog, If I tell you I'm praying for you, I'm REALLY going to pray for you. Please let me know if you or someone you know needs special prayer. I believe in the power of prayer. I STRONGLY believe in the power of prayer. I'm actually thinking of putting up a "I'm praying for" thing on the side or something like that. So, let me know. I know for sure that I will pray and so will Diann.
• I'm thinking of doing some book reviews on the books I've read but, I'm NERVOUS! Because other bloggers do it. I guess that's why. I don't know how to do it professionally or anything. I've never done it before. I have no clue why I'm so worried about it.
• I love doing product reviews. So far I've done: 1)Aveda be curly 2) Aveda face scrub 3) Aveda clay mask and yesterday 4)Nailtiques and (kinda) OPI. I am still 100% all for these products. I'm waiting for something and then I'll be doing a write-up about some of my FAVORITE eye shadows. I'm telling you this because product "reviews" or "write-ups" are definitely going to be a big part of my blog. What do you think?
• I'm also thinking of telling you all about some of the great people I'm meeting in the blogging world. Kind of a "Go visit so-and-so" she is blah, blah, blah... Now, there is another blogger who does this but, I'm not trying to copy. I'm not doing this to get comments. I'm just so so pleased with some of the women I've *met*. I want everyone to know them.
• I think that's all. OH, and the reason I don't post pictures of myself- I don't have a digital camera! When I get one, you'll get sick of seeing me. Or maybe you won't because I'm a fattie and I probably won't post a bunch of pics of me. But, I will continue to post pictures of Cooper, Cal and the Georgia girls. And when WE have a baby... LOOK OUT!!
• Lastly, I did watch Nicole on 20/20 last night and I think she did well. I like Joel Madden. To be honest, I always liked Nicole. I NEVER liked Paris. I still don't. I hope Nicole keeps her promise for her own sake and for the sake of her child. You know they're gonna name that child something whack, right? Rumour has it, it's a boy and Christina Aguilera's baby is a girl. That's just the word. I'm not saying I believe it.

Labels: feedback, Nicole Richie, personal, updates

This Post is Sponsored by the Letter E... For Emmy!

Labels: childhood, memories, personal, Seasame Street

Homecoming

Luke is coming home! I'm thrilled, of course. I saw him 2 weeks ago but, it feels like forever. I've been dreaming of him for the past few nights. The dreams are always the same and pretty obvious to interpret; in every one I either am searching and searching (frantically) for him and can't find him or he's leaving me. Permanently. But, it's always the high school thing, a break up and I'm devastated and he's all "too cool" and aloof. It's heartbreaking and I always have this heavy heart when I wake up.
We have tentative plans to meet with the owners of the house we rent. We're going to talk about buying. I have no expectations at this point. They are elderly and quite crotchety. The house belonged to the husband's mother and is old and paid for, so our rent is just money in their pockets. Plus, we've heard from neighbors that previous renters have tried to buy and the owners have given them the run around. I'm not interested in this. We really don't want to move. And if we start this and don't come to an agreement, we will obviously will have to find somewhere else. Right?
The problem is 1) this area is very difficult to find places to live. Everything is very expensive. 2) I don't want to move out of the parish. 3) I don't want to move from here and rent something else. The list goes on.... I also really don't want to have to be picking places by myself but, I will! I'm just happy here. I love my neighbors. They aren't too close but not too far. They can be counted on in a pinch and have been there for me. It's not a subdivision, we have a little bit of land, though it's all in the front. And I love the old house. I have done nothing in the way of decorating in the 4 years we've been here. If we buy, it's on!
We are probably going to go on a date, too. We were way too tired last time he was here. So, I'm hoping that we get our sleep in at the right time and am able to spend time together. That Mexican restaurant and those margaritas sound sooooo fabulous. Not nearly as good as spending time with my beautiful Luke! Then, Sunday is camp time. We are all going down to mom and dad's camp on Sunday for Father's Day and I'm very excited. I haven't had lots of time with my dad or my Pa Pa in a while. Or my brother.

I'm hoping this weekend is a great one. My house is clean. My love is coming home. Family time is planned. What else could a girl ask for? A new pair of shoes? Well, I have a pair two pairs that I've never worn that I plan to wear this weekend. So, all the same! It's these in black and these.

So, what are you doing this weekend?
And who else wants to do the relationship "reader participation" project?
I've got Sarah's & mom's
Kelli & Bon said they'd do it but so far, no dice...

"I love your lips and everything attached to them..."

Labels: feedback, house buying, Luke, personal, shoes

Family Traits

Brown eyes, curly hair, long narrow feet.... all those are things that I've inherited from my parents and their parents and so forth. My long face, my large hips, my thin lips are all from my father's side. My curly hair, the mole on my back, my butt, and most of my personality is from my mother. That's the way it works, though it's not just physical attributes that are inherited. unfortunately.
My grandmother on my daddy's side died tragically young and miserable. And she died addicted. She was addicted to the same type of crap that is bringing me to my knees now. I have a lot of my grandmother's traits- the not so good one's. She was sick. Always. She had TERRIBLE migraines that were debilitating and left her bed-ridden. She had kidney trouble and ultimately died of kidney failure. She was an insomniac, staying up all night smoking and reading or watching tv. And she took medicine. Prescription medication- pain meds, anxiety meds, uppers, downers... I really feel like she (like a lot of people) believed, for a while, that the doctor gave it to her, so it must be ok. She knew that wasn't the truth after awhile because she learned that but, it was too late and very hard to get off the meds.
I remember only small snippets of her. None of them are good. I remember her yelling at Cody (my cousin who is 2 years older than me) and me to be quiet. I know I thought she was mean. But, according to everyone, she loved me to pieces. I was special because I was her baby's little girl. Lil Harry's baby- with the same big brown eyes and long skinnyness that she and my father had. She bought me dresses- the favorite red one with lace and paid to have my picture taken. She did love me. And right now, my heart breaks for her.
A funny story I just heard this past Christmas- I was 3 1/2 when she died, and so I noticed she was gone, obviously. My momma told me that maw maw went to heaven. We were at my granparents' house and I saw her purse hanging in the hallway and said, "Oh no! Mom, maw maw forgot to bring her purse!" How cute am I?
My mom's grandmother suffered from depression. She lived in a time where she could've had any degree of depression and was just dismissed as crazy. Her husband, my great-grandfather, was an alcoholic. I'm sure my family loves all this "airing of the dirty laundry" but, oh well... These particular traits have trickled down the branches ofthe family tree as well. Depression is something I have struggled with and I know many people in the family who have as well.
My poor children have really not a lot of luck in the mixing of the blood pool. Luke has an aunt, his dad's sister, who died from a complication of her addiction. The story is unclear and is really not mine to tell but, I know that Luke really loved her and lost way too many people in his life when he was young. His mother's brother was a terrible drug addict- cocaine and the like. Grandma has told me the horror stories of being the mother of an addict. He died of cancer when Luke was young.
I know mothers of addicts. I know families of addicts. Addicts of drugs that should have killed. The type of horror you "hear" about that "will never happen to you".
A very close and sacred friend of mine had this problem. We will call him William. William came from a good family. His parents sent him to good schools, they loved him and spent time with him. He had extended family, was very smart, sweet and beautiful. He was sensitive and did I mention smart- way smart. His drug problem began very early in his life and was very difficult. He did it all, from what I know... He was injured and should've died probably more than once. I know of at least TWO times for sure. I'm sure my friend has kept a lot from me. Those two times were terrible (that word doesn't even began to describe bcause there isn't one) for all involved. Those times were rougher than rough. Cut to now- William is clean. We are still friends. And I thank God everyday that he survived.
So, an update for those wondering how I'm faring in the battle against the evil benzo... I've decided to do another round of 1.25 mg for the week. I refilled the medicine giver (didn't I say I wasn't gonna talk about my meds?? Well, this is different) on Friday and was gonna go down to 1.15 mg. That would leave me with a whole pill and a crumbly little piece of a pill but, that's what has to happen. I decided to stick with the 1.25 for another week to stabalize myself. I've decided to go slllllllooooooowwwwww. If it takes a year, so be it. It's important to me to get rid of the medicine but, it's important to me to be happy and as well as possible.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

Labels: family, medication, personal

Mr Sandman, Bring Me A Dream...

I have the most vivid dreams. I always have. They're like mini-movies. Last night, I dreamt that my parents sold our house and I was not happy. My mom wouldn't talk to me and I was so frustrated. There was a huge party there with the new owners and tons of people and I was crying and crying. Some lady told my mom to spank me. How funny is that?
Sometimes I dream about the same little girl. I know she's mine, my Isabella, because she looks like my daughter and there's a feeling. It's so difficult to explain. When I wake up from those dreams, I am so sad because she's gone. It's very weird. I have very detailed, scenerio-type dreams about her, me, Luke with the rest of my family or with Lindsey or whatever. I know lots of times people have dreams that make no sense and I do too but.... I often have dreams that are so real.
I also have dreams about both Brett and Paw Paw Harry. I've dreamt of both of them since they died. Of course Brett has been dead much longer, he died in August of 1994. He's been in my dreams almost immediatly. And we are usually the age I am and we are in love and happy. Or we are best friends. The scenerio is usually that everyone knows that he's been "gone" and has come back but the specifics are always sketchy.
I don't think this post is very good. I'm tired and hungry and coocoo (is that how you spell it???). But, I wanted so badly to write something and have you guys respond.

Do you remember your dreams? Do they bring up emotions? Do they leave you with emotions?


"whenever i want you all i have to do is dream"

Labels: dreams, personal

Withdrawl is a Mutherfudder

I am having a very difficult time right now. I am struggling with something I am intimately familiar with- depression. The reason is because of something I am also very familiar with but never having to do with myself- addiction.
You all know that I've had my bouts of depression. I have struggled with the dark and deep and desperate feelings of hopelessness and despair. I have had a breakdown. I have felt like there was absolutely no light at the end of the tunnel, no end in sight and nothing to heal the pain. The dark was so dark and there were days upon days that bled into weeks that I stayed in my bed, didn't want to see anyone, bathe, move... I do still get depressed but, I have better tools and coping skills. I also have medication. Which leads me to-
KLONOPIN. This drug is a benzodiazepine used to relieve anxiety. I have no idea when I was first prescribed this drug. But, it's been years. 2 mg every night for soooo long. And I read that no one should be on it for longer than 4 months. Here's the thing- I'm trying to get off of this medication because you cannot take it while pregnant. You cannot abruptly stop taking medications like this (been there, almost killed everyone in Georgia), you must be under the care of a doctor and must gradually wean yourself off.
I've been doing that, following the system my doctor gave me to wean my body off the drug. It's been very hard but, manageable. Until I got to this point. For whatever reason, I cannot get past this point. this drug is like getting off of cocaine. If you look up this drug and the side effects, they are very severe. I am going through the side effects that are warned about if you ABRUPTLY STOP the medications. Confusion, depression, anxiety, electrical shocks in brain, muscle pain/weakness, nausea, agitation, insomnia... All that fun stuff. My doctor told me today to "just go really slow".
The Random House Unabridged Dictionary defines Addiction as the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that it's cessation causes severe trauma. Well, there ya go. So, I'm giving myself a big 'ole break! I'm going back to what I can deal with- the dosage that doesn't leave me laying in the fetal position, shaking and crying. I sleep when I can and I'm just giving into that. **Thank you (yet again) to my husband for allowing this to be possible!!!** I'm eating my fruits and veggies, chicken, shrimp and fish (not fried), drinking GALLONS of water and getting whatever kind of exercise I can (dancing around the house with Layla at 3 am to my Fergie!), and I'm getting out of the house when I can. I'm telling people- HEY! I'M IN TROUBLE! I'm not hiding and pretending all is well. Even though I really don't want to talk to anyone very much. And who wants to talk to me?? The depressed, crazy, anxious, jittery, sick, BLAHHHH girl. I'm a barrel of monkeys :)
So, pray for me. Forgive my sporadic blogging.

I'm off to watch my girl Kathy so I can get my laugh on....

Labels: blah, depression, medication, personal