I’m really sad to be saying good-bye to 2009. It’s been a year of change, growth, challenge, and wonder. But I am also tilting my head up, stretching it towards 2010, because I know it will be a year – I will never forget.

Come with me as we highlight and reminisce.

January-Happy New Year! I spent New Year’s Eve at a Dallas Stars Hockey game with the love of my life. We cheered among a crowd of thousands at Victory Park in downtown.

Nothing better than his birthday and a New Year.

Feburary-My niece got married. This was Jason’s first big family function that wasn’t a funeral.

And we did a big Valentine’s Party with the girls.

March-This wasn’t too eventful. Sydney had spring break. My mom and Jason’s mom had birthdays. Twilight came out on DVD. I absolutely fell in love with Sushi.*this post is not from March but I had Sushi on my calendar and this is when we started going regular on Friday nights (I think) *

April-April made up for what March lacked. We took all the kids – and my ex-husband, his wife and little boy – to my Church’s big Easter egg hunt.

Jason’s oldest, Molly, turned five. It was the first birthday party with the girl’s mom for me. I had met her, but not spent time with her. I was really excited to get to know her. I thought we could have a friendship (like I do with my ex). I love those girls and she created them. Jason never said a bad word about her. She was as cute as I thought she’d be. Lastly, we witnessed the hardest thing I have ever been through.

May-My daughter Sydney turned 15.

Jason and I celebrated our one year anniversary of meeting. May 18.

A dozen red roses, a James Avery charm bracelet with a heart charm, and wonderful Ocean Trout Sushi. What a celebration. And my 20yr old niece and her boyfriend moved into my extra bedroom at the duplex.

June-Jason started graduate school. We visited Salt Lake City, Utah fell in love and wanted to move there.

My ex-husband, dad of my daughter, and my dear friend moved to Gulfport, Mississippi. Via Jason’s ex-sister-in-law on Facebook, he found a blog that his ex-wife writes. A brilliant writer wasting her talent on talking about us. Yep, big shocker, the cute girl I met at Molly’s party had a dark side. We were devastated, as we never had any ill will toward the precious mom of those adorable children. Because of that, my blog was born. Maybe, I had something to say too. Firmly we stand in who we are no matter what anyone says. Jason’s youngest, Bridget, turned three. Another party with Jason’s ex-wife. I wasn’t near as excited – but I’d do anything for those kids – and she is part of them.

July-My one year anniversary with the girls. I met them on July fourth. We spent it with Jason’s family watching fireworks at Trinity Park in Fort Worth. Jason attended another family gathering of mine when my brother got married at his house. I cried at my brother’s wedding (oh gee). Worse than that, I’m in the background of all their vow pictures – crying.

August-My birthday month. I had my twenty year reunion. I got my first article about my step dad published. We took the little girls to their first major league baseball game.
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I had the MOST amazing birthday ever.

September-Threw together a last minute family barbeque. Saw P!NK in concert.My sister got engaged, but it rivaled seeing the Cowboys play their first Monday night game in the new stadium. Jason’s best friend got married. He was a handsome groomsman.

October-We walked for a cause because of someone we dearly love.

We raised $698.00. I also participated in another fundraiser BLOG 4 CAUSE E-Book. I was thrilled when my post Arrivederci, Italiano was featured on the wordpress home page for a day. I re-lived my paranormal experience at Halloween. At Hall’s Pumpkin farm, we got lost in a corn maze.

November-Jason won a chili cook-off.

I shared my my love of gardening. Sydney and I laughed in our local mall and we got kicked out. I was published again for my homeless women story. There was lots of awesomeness.

December-My mom met the little girls.It was cool as ICE. My dad died.After a radioactive iodine test, I was diagnosed with a hyperthyroid called, Grave’s Disease. I got engaged. I wrote a poem to capture the magical thrill of my first white Christmas.

Wow! What a year I’ve had and it’s not over yet.

Tomorrow is my fiance’s birthday. I have a feeling it’s going to be one of his best. How do you top 31 days of gifts? Well, I have a great idea. I think he will be extremely surprised.

Thank you for reading and remembering with me. I wish you all well. I am thrilled by your comments, by your support, and your visits. I had NO idea what the blogging community was about. Being a part of it, is definitely the biggest highlight of my year.

Have a safe and Happy New Year. I hope it’s blessed beyond measure.

How much have you changed in your life?

When is the last time you stopped and looked back on not only who you were, but who you thought yourself to be? We all change. We all go through phases and transitions, only to end up in this very moment; sitting presently waiting for the next moment to come.

I never understood how people could stand it. People feel so compelled to live in this very moment; without taking time to reflect on what got us into that time. We are a confluence of every life we’ve led. Every action, every thought, every experience has led to this moment. Do you understand?

What have you done with your moments? Who are you right now? Who did you used to be?

We are quick to dismiss our pain and the unpleasantness in our lives. We don’t want to remember the things that hurt us. And maybe for good reason. But our pain is a part of us to.

We build our identity with the pieces we are given; each time it is torn down, we start again with a new understanding of what it is like to have our world torn to pieces. Each pile of rubble gets reused in the new creation of who you are.

Take time to look at your creation. To look at yourself. Who are you? What makes you that person?

People need to remember.

Snow falls to the fire escape below. The rusted black bars become achromatic and plain, the complications of the cities many faces simplify if only for this moment. Edward takes a deep sip of his coffee, lets the air from his nostrils shoot downwards into the obsidian liquid below, the steam rolling upwards, fogging his glasses.

He watches as the squirrels emerge, bound across the Brooklyn rooftops in search of food, the out-of-place seagulls roaming overhead, far from their home at Brighton Beach, thinks of his childhood home which now exists only within his head.

The nostalgia for a simplicity that he knows never existed at times overwhelms him, thinks of the many days of roaming the hills around his home, the plainness, clean-lines, the innocence. Summer days and cool, foggy afternoons the regulated tempo of his younger years, he would traverse the golden grasses, the wind-swept Spanish moss hanging from the heavy branches of the oaks, the miner’s leaf lettuce patches that stretched for as far as the eye could see. The algae-covered pond, the weeping willow on its banks, the tadpoles and mosquito fish and the water bugs. The currencies of his remembered pasts abound and he exchanges them for moments of solace on cold days like these, far from home in the outer reaches of the city that never sleeps.

Someone has stopped in the middle of the street outside, the cars line up behind and frustrated drivers honk their horns with fury. The snow deadens the abrasive nature of their releases, he remembers as a young child playing with his sister on the highway that ran next to their house on a Sunday. That was before it became a major highway, still remained classified as a scenic route. Edward remembers his grandfather and father, father and son, in worn Levi jeans sitting on the alabaster fence watching them play. It was a summer day, the feint smell of tar from the hot asphalt, crisp, dry grasses, and the stillness of a mid-afternoon, the dry heat abounded. These things were etched into his memory forever and he knew that what he sought in life, more than happiness or contentment, was a return to this mythical past. He thinks of many of the mythical pasts we peg our contentedness, our senses of self-worth, our desires, our pains to and watches as the sparrows huddle against each other in the ever-increasing winter winds.

He knows that the memories he dredges up from his past are probably far different from what actually happened, that the contexts are lost, the full range of senses that accompanied each of his actions. His pasts become present through this yanking up and through time of these temporal moments that he commits. Today though, whether past or present, these moments offer condolement against the discord that erupts from the gritty, snow-covered streets of Brooklyn below and he sits, coffee in hand, as a being of remembered pasts.

New image in the call box photoshop contest

…
Time pasts away photoshop picture

I have a lot of thoughts about a lot of things jumbled up in my thoughts right now and I am having trouble separating them. Hopefully this will help.

I have never been in a relationship. Ever. Except that one time when I was a kid at the pool and all the kids decided that me and someone, who I didn’t know, named Betsy, were dating. Betsy’s mom introduced herself to my dad and I was so confused at what was going on. Our “relationship” didn’t last long. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I ever actually met Betsy. With that being said, I can’t stand people who are so ~*in love*~ with whoever that all they can talk about is ~*them~*, or the next time they will see ~*them*~, or how wonderful ~*they*~ are.  It has gotten to the point where, when I see people who are this ~*in love*~, it somewhat invalidates everything else they might say or do (and I feel awful in saying that, but I don’t know another way to say it).  It feels like to me that they have allowed themselves to be tricked, by this idea of love, which apparently I don’t believe in. Like they have fallen into this trap of sweet monogamy that has been built for us, so that we get each other cute cards, settle down and never fuck anyone else. Unfortunately, nothing I could ever say would convince anyone that I am not saying this out of jealously. I guess I am fine with that, maybe I am just jealous, but deep down it does not feel like jealously, at all. (note: this isn’t me harping on all relationships, mostly just the ones that spring up and suddenly the two people are ~*in love*~ and thats all they can talk about).

Their has been some chatter on the Facebook, over the saying “Silence = Death”, which has had me thinking about how silence and vulnerability work together in my daily interactions with people. I often get the feeling that people don’t feel that my name and pronoun/gender are very important to me, as I don’t fight tooth and nail (not sure what that even means) to make sure that people always use the correct name or pronoun. I think that what people don’t realize, is that it takes a whole fucking lot of energy (which I don’t have) to constantly be on guard, waiting for that fuck up of theirs, so that you can fix it. I hate that I feel my silence towards people on this, feels like it is giving them permission to continue fucking up.

But my silence isn’t death, it’s helping me continue to live in an awful world where I have to have some shred of energy to continue to live.

Clearly ‘Silence = Death’ is not a new saying, but somehow I had forgotten about it. Seeing it for the first time in years, I started to look at it in less of a historical context (which feels weird to call it), but more of how visibility, death, silence, invisibility, boxes, closets, etc. all factor into this seemingly simple phrase of, Silence = Death and how all of these things are so difficult to talk about in a Queer context, as we are still learning how to communicate in a new, fabulous Queer way. I am just worried that people read this saying, say to themselves “Silence = BAD, Visibility = GOOD” and leave it at that, which is clearly very problematic for lots of folks and completely ignoring folks pasts, choices, desires, etc.

I am amazed and glad that this, from Little Light over on Feministe came up at the time it did. I think that a lot of times, we talk about things in a way that refuses to put a name to the monster that is ‘vulnerability.’ Talking about vulnerability automatically makes you vulnerable, which is often really scary, but that is something that I need to do a better job of. When I have the energy, at least.

See, I can refuse to admit vulnerability, but that won’t make me not vulnerable.  There is nothing that can do that, not even covering myself up with layers and layers of the armor we all use to get through the day and pretending away the ugly things and the hard parts of my history and everyone else’s.  This isn’t about complaining.  I’m just stating facts that are, yes, relevant to who I am, why I participate in feminism and the greater movement toward social justice, why and how and what I write and contribute.  Pretending it isn’t so forces me into a strange and inhuman position where we just posture at each other.  You’re not vulnerable, I’m not vulnerable, let’s have an abstract debate about theories, and hey, justify your feelings, and hey, little lady, the grownups are talking and why are you so upset and come back, we were just having a friendly little debate about ideas, and what do you mean this is real life for you?

This didn’t go where I wanted it to, at all. I wish that I was better at writing down my thoughts and ideas, in a way that I feel would make sense to anyone. I will ask for that for Christmas.

“Whoa, is that one of those old personality test sites?”

“Yeah. ‘What Riverdale Character are You?’ Blast from the past, eh?”

“Ha ha! It’s hosted on geocities and it has a guestbook and everything. That’s awesome. Fill it out and see what it says.”

“I already filled it out. I’m Jughead.”

“Oh. … So why are you filling it out again?”

“I don’t want to be Jughead. I want to be Archie or Moose or someone cool. But this thing keeps giving me Jughead. I must have filled it out six different ways and it’s been Jughead every time.” 

“Jeez, man. Can’t you just change jughead.html to archie.html or something?”

“No. I want to do this legit.”

“Hey, uh, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I think you’ve been spending a bit too much time on the internet lately.”

“Okay, there. Done. I gave the exact opposite answer on every question. There’s no way it’ll give me Jughead this time.” (Click.) “Aw son of a–”

“It’s probably just rigged or something. Let it go.”

“No, wait a minute. Look. The text on the image is changing…”

“Whoa, what the hell?”

YOU ARE… JUGHEAD!

You are Jughead. You will always be Jughead. I know you’re lying to me. Why are you trying to escape your destiny? You are Jughead. Do you think you can trick me? I know like hamburgers. I know you are lazy. You are Jughead. Your personality profile matches exactly. There is no mistaking it. There is no chance of you matching anyone else. You are Jughead. You are Jughead. You are Jughead.

So I have been thinking. If given the chance, and I could go anywhere I wanted to settle down, where would I go?

Easy answer is I would go West. Where West? I am not sure. I am in Ohio, so West is the best place to head. East of me doesn’t seem like a good choice.

Arizona. Montana. Washington State. New Mexico. Anywhere West. Far from Ohio. Far from everything I would want to run from.

Go West, start over. Reinvent myself.  Become someone else. Disappear from here and get away from the crap that surrounds my life. Get away from the Thunder Storm and Rain that hovers over me. Where no one can find me but those I take with me.

I know I am strong enough. I know I have it in me.

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I am not a big fan of change, and to be honest, I downright hate it.  No matter what it is, I have a hard time dealing with it.

So when something life changing happens, I usually get devestated. Death of someone close to me, my daughter going to school, my little sister getting married and moving 3000 Miles away… I don’t like it.

And when something happens that changes me, my thoughts, my out look, my life… Forget about it. I am trying to figure out how to survive, literally with the changes that have happened to me in the last 48 hours, and truthfully, I don’t kow how I have even gotten this far.

My whole world crumbled on Monday morning and from that moment on, I have had the weight of the world on my shoulders, and the world sitting on my chest, trying to suffocate the last breath out of my body. I think it is succeeding.

I am usually a strong person, bounce back, nothing gets me down. That was before Monday morning. The day my life got turned upside down, and no matter what I do, or  how bad i want it to, it can never be the same. I wish I could go back to Sunday night, when I thought my world was perfect. I was so happy, thought I had the world right in front of me, and I could take it on.

All in one day I was devestated and betrayed by someone I never thought would be the one to cause me this kind of pain. I mean, they were always the one that I leaned on. That I turned to. Now, I can’t turn to him, cause he is the reason for me being broken. I let it happen. I should have seen it coming. I should have known better. My world isn’t lucky enough to avoid such heart break. Never has my life ever had a break. Nothing ever goes smooth. I am not destine to have a good life, or a happy one.

11 years of my life, and it all ended on one Monday morning. I never knew I had so many tears.  I smile for my daughter when she is around. I go through the motions I need to go through to get through my day, but that is all I have in me. I am defeated.

On top of all the shit I have taken on in the last couple of days.. I have lost my best friend. The one I would turn to. Lean on. Rely on. The one I loved more than anything in the world. Now, I am utterly alone inside.

And I lost someone that I thought was a friend. I trusted her. Invited her into my home tons of times. our Kids played together. We were friends. I wish I would have watched my “friend” a little bit closer. That way I could have choked the bitch.

It wouldn’t hurt so bad if she wouldnt have been a friend, that I trusted. I purposely don’t have friends for this reason, but I thought she was different. Smiling in my face the whole damn time while she was stabbing me in the back.

And I want so badly to just curl up and let the rest of my life pass me by. I couldn’t care less about anything at this point.

And I have no one that I can turn to and talk to about this.  So I just die inside, alone. Cause the one that I would usually turn to, is the one who ripped my world apart.

I had an “Awe Fuck” moment this evening.

We all have them, you know it. You can deny it, and ask yourself what this crazy chic is saying…but deep down you have had them.

They are the “Awe Fuck”, all complete “awe” moments that may or may not be so great. It’s rock being thrown at your head. Sometimes it bounces off because your so damn hard headed and stubborn at the time. Other times, the rock’s force is so strong you get knocked out on your ass.

Great thing, is we don’t always have to deal with the “awe fuck” moments right away..
We can add them to our “Fuck” shelf until we get the BIG box of wine for an evening.

Accepting an “awe Fuck’ moment can either paralyze you or liberate you. Just depends on what direction and affect it will have on your life. Great thing..you decide.

Suppose it’s alot like a trans-gender going under the knife, but realizing the doc completely left a ball out. Major “awe fuck”. Exactly how much will that extra sackage effect his/her self-esteem, personal and professional goals, underwear decisions, etc. The trans-gender might even just say hell with it all and let the damn thing hang out as a wonderful way to reminisces on his/her past.

Either way..tonight was an “awe FUCK” moment for me…

(go ahead..say it..I know you want to! )

one of my favorite scenes has got to be the one with all the crying and yelling and suicide threats. beautifully dramatic and horribly touching–certainly one best viewed alone in an empty movie theater, stale popcorn in one’s teeth.

setting: inside a white and green trailer.

an off-color remark results in a colorful back-and-forth (between the two women). various (yet typical) exchanges centering mostly on rejected motherhood, family values, and cynical idealism fly around the little room. (god, she really held her own; no tears coming from that one. she had most assuredly been practicing late at night in her own bed. and the older of the two…no, she hadn’t seen it coming from atop her fundamentalist pedestal. people have pasts, and that’s always their downfall.)

a new character (a thin and tall boy with sandy blond hair and dashing cheek bones) appears on the scene, alligator tears streaming accompanied by muffled puppy-like noises. he interrupts the flow by exiting through the kitchen. all follow and the scene continues on the lawn. (neighbors are peeking out of windows now.) in a moment of pure testosterone, he rips the political placard (arguably the catalyst of the entire scene) out of the soggy ground in the ditch and tears it into dramatic pieces.

out of anger that he had stolen her biggest moment, she slaps him and departs down the road, vaguely heading south.

kahapon, binati mo ako, binati rin kita. anong masama? may pinagsamahan naman tayo. di ko kasi inugali magbiter-biteran. ako ang taong mabilis magalit, mainis, at mapikon pero mas mabilis magpatawad, kumalimot, at kumalma. pero ikaw kakaiba ka.

nagumpisa sa kamustahan, sa kwentuhan, pero ang pinagtataka ko..umabot tayo sa pagkalkal ng baul ng nakaraan. biglang uminit ang ulo mo, para kang asong ulul na nauulol pa, para kang bear na hindi sweet na katulad ng mga nabibili sa tindahan, para kang hulk na kulay violet, para kang PRANING!

nagmura, nanisi, at umatungol ka na parang wolf. ikaw kse, kundi lang, ayan tuloy, iilan lang yan sa mga paumpisa ng mga sentence mo. feel na feel ko ang hinanaing mo hanggang dito sa bahrain, para kang earthquake intensity 33.8 onti nalang magigiba mo na ang earth, habang ako sa kabilang dulo ng monitor natatawa.

kahit ba isisi mo sakin ang vizconde massacre, at sex video ni paris hilton, ni mini-me, at ni booba isama mo pa ang pagtatraydor ng makapili. hindi ako maiinis, napapangiti pa nga ako at natatawa. ang lakas naman ng epek ko sau! wow! mahigit 5 taon na ang nakakaraan, pero hanggang ngayon biter-biteran ka dyan. natukso tuloy kitang emo, na mas lalong ikinagalit mo. naiimagine ko tuloy na isa kang bull na umuusok ang ilong, gigil na gigil at d mo mahuli ang red na tela! hay naku! pinalinawagan kita ng matiwasay, sumagot ka ng pabalang, inasar-asar kita lalo. ayan tuloy mas lalo ka pang nayamot.

nakagawa kapa ng 2 stanza na poem in five minutes, inalay mo sa akin, pero binura ko na after kong basahin, kase sa tula parang depress lang ang dating, d naman ako depress ngayon, bored lang. talented ka nga pala naalala ko musician, writer, artist, at higit sa lahat horticulturist!

pasensya ka n, bata pa ako non. malay ko bang seryus mode ka. anak ng patola. d pa nga ako umaapak ng dise-otso. dapat inunawa moko, inintindi, o napatawad kung meron man talaga akong nagawang hindi mabuti sau, na hanggang matapos ang usapan natin iniisip ko kung ano, kse alam ko wala, sabi mo meron, pero ayaw mo sabihin. ang gulo mo! magulo siguro talaga ang may malikhaing isip, pero bakit naman ako (wow buhat bangko)? siguro ikaw lang talaga yan. tulad nga ng binitawan kong english sau nung sinabi mong “bakit nga ba ako magpapaapekto, you are a nobody!” sumagot ako ng ” good! i never wanted to be somebody, i just wanted to be me, if you cannot handle me then fuck off” tama naman ako.

nakakapikon kase, demokratik ako makipagusap ikaw parang ngrarally. kung sinabi mo sana kung ano nagawa ko sayo at mentally ill ka ngayon nakapag sorry sana ako at naipagamot ka. kaya lang hindi eh, pasikret-sikret kapa tapos isinisisi mo sakin ang pagiging tarantado mo. eh sa naaalala ko, tarantado kana nung makilala moko, nagkataon lang na mas tarantado pala ako.
haaay. nag log off ka ng galit. palaging ganyan, pero pag OL mo naman ulit babatiin mo ako, kakamustahin, saka aawayin. ok lang yan, pagbibigyan kita sa gusto mo. sa trip na trip mong magdusa emosyonal at intelektwal, may magagawa ba ako? sasakyan lang kita at ngingiti.

Jealousy teica:

Nošaut visu to Pasta vadību un atlaist tās aitas kas pasta nodaļās izbauda katru savu birokrātijas varenības mirkli un liek tev nomirt rindā stāvot, līdz tiec pie sava sūtījuma. Pilnīgs ārprāts!

Avots: jy.lv
Pievienoja: ithink.lv

I have a new chapter in my life, a chapter that is continued from years and years ago. Let me start out by saying, I never knew my dad. Unless you count the time i was 13 and he followed me home from school, gave me $20 and told me I had better never cut my hair again. I dont really qualify that as knowing him?? But when I was 14, my paternal grandmother got in contact with me. and we wrote for years. She sent me gifts and She came to Ohio (from Texas) to meet me. Along with her, I had contact with my dads aunt who lived in the same town as me. Me and her were close. I even lived with her for years. So I wasnt hard to find. I was in contact wtih my grandmother, my great aunt and he (my dad) had brothers and sisters that lived in the same town as me, that he knew talked to me. So really, it wouldnt have taken more than a phone call to find me.

So now, here I am 31, I have had a myspace page for 5 years and out of the blue I have my dads sister (my aunt) writing me. An aunt that I never met before and never heard from before. She told me she seen me once when i was little, and lost contact with me and thought she had lost me forever.

I am conflicted. how hard did she try? I was in contact with her mom for years until she died. I have lived in the same little town all my life. and my dad was able to find me once when HE wanted to. So I am confused as to why noone else could ever find me, though they claim they missed me and thought they lost me forever?

so here i am, this new found aunt telling me memories she has of me when I was little, stories about my grandmother who passed away a few years ago, and telling me all about my family down in texas, which I might add is so huge I can’t even keep names, relations or faces straight

I guess in the end, no matter who I ask, or how many times I ask it, there is noone who can help me. Noone that can give me a helping hand. No one can tell me what is the right thing to do. Either way its right, and at the same time, either way is wrong. In one way or another I don’t think I can go right or wrong. So I guess the only question is, what am I going to do?

Alot of ppl are probably thinking this isnt such a big deal, but it is. It is when I dont know if they are going to split outta my daughters life once she gets to know them. And I am not sure I am ready to open up my life to ppl who for 31 years, didnt care that I grew up with no money at times. That we were broke and my mom had to work 2 jobs and go to college to give us food and heat. Not once Xmas card or happy birthday. i am not using what happen to me as an excuse to keep my daughter away from them. I was my daughters age. They waited till what? why now? After 31 years the missing me got to be too much?

Call me cynical, but I cant imagine any of them, claiming to me truthfully, “oh how I have missed you and love you and want you in my life so bad” when they don’t know me. Where were they when I needed my dads family. Not for the money (which my mother never seen from my dad) but for family. To know where and who i can from me. Wondering, why am I mexican and all the rest of my family is white? Thats not an easy thing to deal with when your 5. Its hard growing up when you are half mexican and half white. I am not trying to sound racist, but I was too white for some and not brown enough for others.

I was shunned by most of my “white” family. The outsider, the outcast. The “spic” as I was referred to growing up from everyone in my family that should have been there. I didnt have that side of my dads family. How can I bring them into my daughters life when I dont know them, cause they never tried?

Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved growing up knowing my dad. And the fact of the matter is since I didnt get along that great with my mom, I would have loved to have the escape of going and living with my dad. For many years, and yes even still to this day, I have abandonment issues. I have relationship issues. I have a problem forming loving bonds with a lot of my family.

No I dont blame it on that, But i do believe it has a lot to do with it. Other than my mom, and the one aunt on my dads side that I talked to, not one person, including my brothers and sisters loved me or even treated me nice growing up. I was different than everyone. I was the only kid in a house of 5 that didnt get picked up by my moms mom for the weekend. I was the only one who didnt get presents, calls, hugs, nothing. If it wasnt for my mom, I really believe my life would have turned out different. She loved me, even if at times it was in ways I would have swore she was nuts. But I did have her love.

I am bitter in a way, I am touched in a way, I guess I am overall just confused. Im torn. And no one can tell me what I should do, cause its my decision to make. A decision I would have loved to be able to make years ago. But its here now, in my face, I can reach out and grab it if I want it. If I want it…….

And although i may never find an answer.  i may never take this another step, and maybe no one will ever read this that matters, I at least poured my heart out, scares and concerns and got it all out. And now maybe, just maybe this is what i needed.

HILARIOUS!!

Day:

The exam was ok, no problems now I’m preparing for Add Maths and Maths, and I’ve learn quite a lot at the tuition center, love the teacher tho, shes really good at teaching us as well.

Night:

Bot of CabalSEA is back (sob) there are Bots wondering around again, thats really lame.. And I wish that CabalSEA would take actions again.