I’m alive. I’m just wrapped in a cocoon of Scandal.

I kinda love the way Fitz loves Olivia. It makes me swoon.

Also, I have a crush on Huck.

I’m almost finished with season two. Not sure where I’ll get my season three fix from, but a true junky never gives up.

7 more days until naked town.

One of the outfits I will be wearing to Hedo next week. This is for the glow pool party. Not shown is the hot pink bikini bottom, stripey leg warmers, glow in the dark flip flops and seven million bracelets.

One of the outfits I will be wearing to Hedo next week. This is for the glow pool party. Not shown is the hot pink bikini bottom, stripey leg warmers, glow in the dark flip flops and seven million bracelets.

  1. I said I was going to cook lasagna and I ended up lying in bed watching Resurrection while Chris made dinner instead. I win Easter.
  2. I just wish I could stop my brain from thinking. I am jealous of free spirits who just live in the moment because I have no idea what that must be like.
  3. I haven’t had an eyeball migraine in 10 days. I think that counts for something, right? Maybe I won’t get another one ever again.
  4. Holy shit is that doubtful.
  5. I ordered new luggage for my trip and I can’t pack until it gets here on Tuesday and I am sooo fucking excited I can’t even breathe which may or may not be what is adding to my stress and my eyeball headaches.
  6. Rosacea flare. But it’s my fault because I went tanning today. Fuck my life. Never mind, I fuck my life so good, I don’t even need assistance.
  7. I haven’t worked out in 10 days. But on a bright side…I am still losing weight without even trying. So….yeah.
  8. My house smells so good. Lazagnahhhh.
  9. I don’t do the whole religion thing for easter, or any holiday anymore,  but please don’t say Zombie Jesus in front of me. It’s just kind of dumb.
  10. Happy cadbury cream eggs and ham.

I am leaving for paradise in 11 days.

I usually drink rum and pineapple.

However, after 2 days, pineapple juice starts to rub my tummy the wrong way.

What are some other cocktails I could drink that are tropical and fruity and won’t eat away at the lining of my belly?

My ex wants to be friends with me now on Facebook.


You moved heaven and earth to keep me away from my children for the last 16 years…soooo NO BRO.

We are not now, nor will we EVER be friends.

NO. Just NO.

Sometimes I look at people and I can’t help but think:

  1. So sorry about your botched boob job.
  2. So sorry about your funny looking husband (wife)
  3. So sorry about your weird lopsided butt.
  4. SO sorry about your receding hairline.
  5. So sorry about your frankenstein tummy tuck.
  6. So sorry about eyebrows.
  7. So so sorry about your parents never taking you to a dentist.
  8. So sorry about your funny looking baby.
  9. So sorry about your gigantic pores.
  10. So sorry I’m not sorry I’m such a judgy cunt.

Seventeen years ago today I gave birth to two of the most amazing little babies I had ever held in my arms. 

Just over ten pounds total of all my insecurities manifested.

I was young. I already had two small children under two years old. I was about to be homeless. I was addicted. I was in relationship that challenged every part of me. I was broken in too many places to fix.

And yet, on this day…whether I was ready to be or not…I became a mother.

Two hours of labor. One push…then the first tiniest cry. Two more pushes and a six minute holding of my breath and baby number two came out feet first screaming all the way.

I knew the feeling well. 

Because, I too,  was weeping.

A massive internal wail so deep it shook my bones until they threatened to break.

What was I going to do?

What was I going to do?

What was I going to do?

These little people needed me. They needed more than I could give.

And I didn’t even recognize my own face when it was staring right back at me.

They told me they were mine, but if I wasn’t  my own, who did they really belong to?

My daughter, so tiny….so light, she fit right in my hand. So fair, so pretty she had no idea how breathtaking she was…looking up at me, through glass and machines and wires that tethered her to my soul for the rest of my days.

My son, so alert, so perfect, so handsome, so wise…it was like he knew. One look at he could tell, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t fit. I wasn’t good enough to love him.

I took them home. I fed them when the clock said to. I held them when they cried. Crying right along with them, begging someone…ANYONE…to help me figure out what came next.

No one ever answered.

No one cared enough.

I guess I understood that because I stopped caring as well.

Then one day, I found myself sitting on my kitchen floor, holding a hungry crying baby, while three more screamed in the background and I decided they deserved better.

It wouldn’t be until three years later, after rehab and therapy and some more therapy that I could admit I deserved better too,

I signed them over to their father and went into treatment thinking I was going to come get them just as soon as I could.

Other people had other plans.

Court dates. Drug testing. More court dates. Supervised visitation where I was the only one who showed up. Phone threats. Name changes. Location changes. You name it…I experienced it.

And 17 years later…they are nothing but a mystery to me.

Even though I raised them until they were 11 months old…the only memory I replay over and over again is one of a lost, scared little girl trying so hard to hold her life together while it slipped through her shaky fingers one grain of sand at a time.

I want to think I did the right thing.

I want to think their father knew what was best for them..and I just wasn’t it.

I want to think they were better off without me…but then there’s the truth.

I breathe in the memory and all I ever get to I exhale is the pain.

Excruciating, mind numbing pain.

I miss my babies.

DO you hear me universe….I fucked up. IFUCKEDUP!!!!

But I’m sorry.

I’m so sorryI’m so, so sorry.

And, I just wish someone…anyone…could know that.

I miss my babies.

And today, they are seventeen.

Seventeen years of mourning and regret.

Happy birthday to my broken heart.

I only had a brief headache today in my temple for about 25 minutes. It caused immense panic. Much fun ensued. Tylenol and water made it go away.

I’m doing better. Almost 24 hours without pain.

I’m trying to cleanse my mind and stop over thinking stuff.

Anxiety has been haunting me since i was 16. I thought it was gone for good in 1994 but by 2009 it was back with a bang.

I’ve managed to control it, but occasionally, I lose my footing.

I’m sorry I’m not sorry that this blog has become my panic journal.

I’m a hot mess and I’m waddling through it.

So, either come along for the journey or I’ll see you never.

And to everyone who took the time to message me or offer advice…thank you from the bottom of my cold, dead heart.

I have been taking Extra Strength Tylenol for what seems like forever.

I have normal to slightly above average blood pressure and was told Advil was something I should avoid.

I don’t think Tylenol is working for my headaches.

Is taking Advil okay? Are there any over the counter migraine meds (this way I am prepared for the next one) that I should consider??

I called the doctor who did my retina exam in the Emergency Room and asked him if he saw anything I should be worried about during my exam and this was his answer…

"Miss (redacted), you are fine. Your tests were completely normal. YOU are a completely normal near sighted girl."

And with that…I feel better.