1 in 4

This month has me reflecting so much on the past year. This time last year I was helplessly and knowingly living my life with Cancer in my right breast. I was working toward the goal of surgery with my surgical team, but the process was slow. It felt even slower each time I reminded myself that this shit was trying to kill me from the inside! I sat in countless doctor’s offices and heard stories of other women in waiting rooms across town. Some had it better than I did, and others had it much worse. I heard friends try to console loved ones to no avail. At times I was happy that I was alone. Others, I was grateful to have my tribe behind me, and either my sister-in-law or very close friend at my side.

No one prepares you for the wait that comes with a Cancer diagnosis. Maybe it’s more of a hurry-up and wait, which I hate worse than waiting. It goes like this; hurry up and set up this appointment with this doctor but then wait 30 days to see them. Hurry up and get this test completed because it is imperative to your diagnosis and treatment plan, but you will have to wait 3-4 weeks for results. Hurry up and get the genetic testing but it could be months before you hear on that so don’t depend on it to make any decisions. (Yep, that happened) It leaves your head spinning, and the Cancer notebook you created to keep track of it all, full of more questions than answers. I later learned about people that were diagnosed pre-pandemic and forced to sit and wait for the world to reopen so that their Cancer could be treated. It’s crazy the situations in life that are hell yet we, as women, consider ourselves “lucky”. Thinking of the Pandemic diagnosis people, I was really “lucky”.

This weekend I was watching a Netflix show called Girls in The Back about a group of friends from school. They were assigned seats in the back of class and became The Girls in the Back. In the intro you find out that one of the five has Cancer. They take their annual vacation trip, all of them shave their heads and they each write down one challenge that everyone in the group will have to complete. Their only rules are that they don’t talk about Cancer or who has it. It is an amazing story of friendship, and for obvious reasons, it really hit home for me. You do eventually find out who has Cancer, and in the end, she says the exact same thing to her tribe that I said to mine, “I’m glad it is me”. I cried like a baby watching that scene.

The current statistic is that 1 in 4 women will get Breast Cancer in their lifetime. As my tribe sat with me through this experience, their lives continued to go on around us, as they should. I would listen to them whisper from the waiting room to their children at home, trying to keep their lives as normal as possible and I felt that wave of lucky. Not just for having an amazing tribe by my side. Not even just their little families that each made sacrifices so that they could be away from them and be with me instead. I felt lucky that it was me and not them. I am not married. I have no children. I live alone. The only one that depends on me is my dog. I have the resources and the insurance to fight this fight. And sadly, I will type this because I thought it, if someone must die from this, I want it to be me. I’m grateful to be the 1 in 4, and I’m finally making my peace with Cancer and what it has taught me.

#BreastCancerAwareness #1In4 #CheckYourBoobs

 

 

Survivor

 

sur·vi·vor

/sərˈvīvər/

noun

1. a person who survives, especially a person remaining alive after an event in which others have died.

"the sole survivor of the massacre"

o the remainder of a group of people or things.

"a survivor from last year's team"

o a person who copes well with difficulties in their life.

"she is a born survivor"

 

I have struggled for the last year with this word, survivor. If you get Cancer and live, you are a survivor. As soon as you hear the word Cancer, your mind begins end of life arrangements without your consent. Because I have amazing friends and support, within 45 days of diagnosis of Breast Cancer last year I had a Will, Trust, and Power of Attorney with a medical directive. No one knows what will happen in health matters and I wanted to cover all my bases. Also, I might be a bit of a control freak, and this gave me something to control whilst so much was spinning out of my orbit.

 There are so many levels to the Cancer fight that it’s hard to get your head around. If this, then that. We hope this but worst case is that. There are about 25 hurry-up and wait moments before there are any answers. Hurry up and book with this doctor but more tests, more wait, more opportunity to lose your mind. They try to lay out the information for you, but it is too much, and your mind and heart cannot take it all at once. For me it was one test, one day, one more doctor, until….what? I made myself crazy over information I knew I had no control over. When the calls, results and final appointments came; I was so incredibly lucky and blessed that every single call was the best of a worst-case scenario.

 My Cancer was in my right breast, Stage 1, not in the lymph nodes, hormone receptive and non-aggressive. There was precancerous evidence on the left but no Cancer, yet. It was all the things you want to hear. After much research and conversation with other trusted Survivors, I chose a double mastectomy with reconstruction. I didn’t want to risk recurrence, as I had seen happen to so many others. The mastectomy doesn’t guarantee that the Cancer won’t return but it gives me the best shot, and more importantly, peace of mind. Because I removed all the breast tissue, Hormone therapy would give me very little benefit with tons of unwanted side effects. I opted not to do the 10 years of Tamoxifen pills that was suggested by Oncology. I was 43 years old and the idea of early menopause, dry vagina, hormonal imbalance, and a host of other possible terrible side effects really made the decision for me. This was not a choice I made lightly and if the doctors had advised against it, I would have reconsidered. Both my surgeon and Oncologist were supportive of this decision because, the fact of the matter is, they don’t know if it’s needed but they treat everyone the same and work to give you the best chance of survival and I appreciate that. I also appreciate the opportunity to choose what is best for me and that is what I did. This was a privilege and a gift to have the choice and I know that. Not everyone has options.

 For me, early detection and swift action gave me choices that I know most do not have. I had surgery, I recovered, and I will see Oncology once a year until they kick me out to 5, then hopefully 10. Cancer will always be a part of my life and world now, but it will never own me. In my mind, I basically had a boob job. Granted, I would not have chosen to do that, but for Cancer. It was hard in the fact that surgery didn’t feel like a choice. In the end, it was. I could have gone to the first terrible butcher surgeon at Barnes St. Peters and opted for the lumpectomy she suggested. She was going to remove both nipples for “symmetry” and couldn’t tell me how or where she would cut me. I could have opted for a few other courses of treatment, but I CHOSE what was best for me and I had to continuously remind myself of that to keep my anger at bay. It felt then and still feels like the easy way and for me, it was. I was lucky to have an inner KNOWING that mastectomy was my choice. After that jarring initial surgery consult, I immediately opted for a 2^nd opinion even though doing so could extend my time until surgery. I knew in my heart she was not right for me (or anyone), and I had to advocate for myself. I ended up keeping both nipples and having an undercut like a normal breast augmentation. Because I advocate for myself, I was able to get exactly what I chose.

 To say it has been a long and emotional road is an understatement. No one chooses Cancer, unfortunately, Cancer chooses you. Therefore, I struggle with the word Survivor. I’ve seen my mom fight Cancer for 10 years. Ovarian twice and then Breast. I know countless people that fought the good fight and their Cancer returned, sometimes multiple times. There are others that have had botched procedures, bad doctors, terrible hospital tales and zero support. I had a tribe of women surrounding me, many of them survivors. I heard the stories you don’t tell anyone besides someone that may have to walk your path. My survivors were the ultimate support and epitome of Warriors. They walked through fire, sometimes multiple times, and SURVIVED! The question I asked myself most of this year is, how do I stand beside these amazing women, whom I do consider Warrior Survivors and count myself among them?

 Early on, countless well-meaning people told me how lucky I was that all I was getting from Cancer was a boob job. Those were hard things to work through emotionally. I certainly didn’t feel “lucky” and there was much spiritual therapy required to work through those feelings. Now, almost a year later, I got way more than boobs from Cancer. I learned a shit ton about Cancer and myself. I also learned who the people around me are, some for the good and others not so much. I learned who my helpers and true tribe are, those in my life that step up no matter what. I learned that I have so much left to live and give in this life. I learned who I am and what I am capable of…and I also happened to get new boobs! I can now laugh and appreciate better where those well-meaning people were coming from. Most importantly I’ve learned in this last year that I am a survivor. It’s the club you never want to be in, but I am honored and blessed to count myself among this group of amazing and courageous badass ladies!

#BreastCancerAwareness #Survivor

RIP Grillmeister

The world lost a great man this week. He was a great floating buddy, a grillmeister supreme and an outstanding person, husband and friend. My buddy, Rich Bruer, kissed his wife goodbye last Friday and headed off to work. He e-mailed with her that morning discussing the Friday night plan. He took his lunch break and walked around downtown St. Louis. Somewhere along the way he had a massive heart attack and died. Just like that. He was only 44 years old. He leaves behind his wife, Kathryn, who is just a fantastic lady. They had no children but many, many loving friends. It was a good lesson in how short and precious life is. Leigh always used to say that you should tell everyone that you love them before you leave, always. You never know when will be the last time that you see them. I wonder sometimes if she knew how young she would die. I was remembering back to the last float trip. I thanked Rich and Kathryn for getting us all together (and for Rich's expertise on the grill), I told them I couldn't wait until next time and as I closed my car door I said, "love you guys". That was the last time I saw Rich alive.

If you know me, I have probably told you that I love you, because I do. I have many friends who, to this day, are taken aback when I say it. Losing a friend like Rich reminds me of why I do it. It may seem ridiculous or trivial to you but I smile when I look back and remember those final moments of love between us. I feel lucky and blessed for each and every person in my life. I want you to know, no matter what, that I have love in my heart for you. None of us know when our number will be up. If I am remembered as the girl that always said ‘I Love You’, I am ok with that.

I had not seen Rich and Kathryn in years. I am sad to say that I had not seen any of the old floating buddies until we were all brought together by this horrible tragedy. We vowed to float again, to get together and talk. We let ourselves lose touch and then we lost one of our own. Our friend, Rebel Sarah, who floats with us called it “a sin and a shame” if this doesn’t bring us back together. The Rebel is right. We owe it to ourselves and Rich and Kathryn to never be pulled so far apart again.

It is amazing the bond that is formed by a few weekends in the wilderness together. I feel like these people are my family. It felt good to rally for Kathryn. She was full of strength and grace, even in the worst hour of her life. She made the decision the day that Rich died that we would celebrate his life, not mourn his death. Rich was a laid back, peaceful and earthy soul. Kathryn is his opposite. Despite that fact, I am proud to say that Kathryn buried Rich the way that he would have wanted. He had on his shorts, tank top and hat in the casket. In his hands were his sunglasses (which he always wore) and cigars (which he loved to smoke). Some people would call that tacky, I call it a tribute. Rest in peace, Grillmeister, you are loved and missed by many.

"Mr. Speaker, our Nation depends on immigrants' labor, and I hope we can create an immigration system as dependable as they are."~Luis Gutierriz

Aren’t we all immigrants?

Liberty and Justice FOR ALL, huh? Really?

Has anyone thought about what this Arizona immigration law could lead to?

How many Hispanic American citizens will lose their businesses because their LEGAL CITIZEN patrons are scared to leave their homes for fear of police or government interference with their life?

What about all of the jobs that the Americans are too good to do that WE brought illegal Mexicans here to do 20 years ago?

What about the American citizens of mixed decent that will be unjustly terrorized for this?

Is it really ok now for the US Government to detain people for absolutely no reason?

This law could be in effect as early as August, IF it passes the proper channels. (PrayingtoBabyJesusthatdoesnothappen)

I, for one, will never visit Arizona again.

I say the supporters should be the first to be implanted with the new government tracking chip.

Let the government track their every move.

Let’s see how they like it…

Fat America

I am fired up today and I am blogging it out. I am so tired of fat people who do nothing but whine and cry about how fat they are. I might piss some people off with this post and I rather hope I do. At least that would mean that the subject is important to others. I understand that both health and genetics take part in many weight issues. I am skinny partly because of my Crohn’s Disease. I don’t think that health issues can always be an excuse though, and certainly not the whole excuse. Just like I have to adhere to a certain diet to maintain my disease, others are responsible to do the same.

Why is it that you mostly see the fat people taking the elevator but the skinny people take the stairs? I find this a lot at my new job. Why do fat people ride in carts at stores when they need the exercise more than any of us? I don’t want to hear the old “bad knee” excuse either because their knees would be fine if it weren’t for the extra hundreds of pounds that some are carrying. Then they want a handicapped sticker for their bad knees and big lazy asses. These are the same folks who starve themselves on a diet only to cave to a soda and candy bar half way through the day. As you can see, I am pretty disgusted. These people are raising Fat America. Eating habits as a child most definitely carry into adult life. I was only recently able to break my family tradition of Velveeta cheese dip as a meal. I understand these things can be hard but I am tired of the whining.

These are the same people who exclaim “oh, you are so skinny”, “how do you stay so skinny?”, “why would you walk in this heat?”, “you eat tofu?”, “are you going to waste all of that food?” I could go on and on. I used to be offended at being called skinny. After all, skinny is connected to sickness. But guess what? I am skinny. I accept it. I work every day to maintain my weight but I will most likely always be how I am. I can accept someone being overweight if they make an effort to be healthy. If they are not eating ice cream and drinking soda all day long, complaining about how fat they are. Just for fun, I am going to answer some of those ridiculous questions though. Sometimes I want to answer people when they ask but my response might sound as shallow as their question.

1. “Oh, you are so skinny” (not a question but I’m gonna address it)---I am thin. I do have Crohn’s disease but I also have a very healthy lifestyle and diet. I take care of myself as best as I can and I think I look fantastic compared to where I have been in the past.

2. “How do you stay so skinny”---I eat pretty healthy. I do eat all of the time but small snacks, not huge meals. I like rice cakes, soy beans, nuts, fruit and cheese to snack on (not gonna lie, I eat crap but I am good most of the time)

3. “Why would you walk in this heat?---Well, I enjoy walking and hiking immensely. I feel at one with nature, spirits and myself so it is more like therapy to me than exercise because I CHOOSE FOR IT TO BE.

4. “You eat tofu?”---I not only eat it, I like it. However, I have no idea how to cook it. Changing my eating habits came as a result of my Crohn’s but I could not be happier. I feel healthier and I am getting way more protein without all of the hormones and bacteria. (Eat that fatty!) I would choose a veggie dog or black bean burger over the real thing any day.

5. “Are you going to waste all of that food”- Noooooooo…because small meals are how I roll, I will wrap it up and take it home for later. If something is good enough I have been known to eat it 5-6 consecutive meals in a row. I eat to live, I don’t live to eat. (Shout out to Koli from The Biggest Loser, although I mixed his words, he said “these people are eating to live and we are living to eat.” Profound to me, I tell you.)

There is a reason I feel so passionate about this; my old roommate, Sarah, has been a big girl her whole life. Living together was an eye opening experience for us both in regard to food. We both noticed little things that were different about our eating habits and we were not afraid to discuss it. I will put something down after having taken just a few bites if I am done with it. In Sarah’s house growing up that was wasteful and you could not be wasteful. She had a twin brother who was rather sickly so it was her job to finish what he did not eat. At first she was very bothered by what she considered to be my waste but then she realized that I really do eat most things later. And if I didn’t, my attitude was, “oh, well, it’s just food.” One night I bought a box of Entenmann’s crumble top donuts, triple chocolate; the big box. I ate one and went to bed. When I woke up the next morning the box was in the trash. Sarah had gotten up in the middle of the night and eaten all of the donuts. That thought never even crossed my mind. I can barely eat one. I had to ask her what made her do it and for a long time, she didn’t have an answer. When we talked later she said that as a kid growing up with 5 kids in the house you had to fight for your food. In her house, if you liked something, you had better eat it all because it would not be there when you came back. I just could not fathom what she was telling me. I had 1 sister and we had different tastes so this was all new for me.

Sarah and I got hooked on The Biggest Loser shortly after that. We would sing the theme song (“What have you done today to make you feel proud?”) and I could see in her eyes that she wanted to try to start losing weight. She used to get the classic, “oh, but you are so pretty in the face” all of the time. Pretty-in-the-face- Sarah started Weight Watchers (we affectionately refer to it as “dub dub”) about a year and a half ago. She is down 85 pounds and holding. She has drastically changed her eating habits and gets way more exercise now. I am so proud of her. She recognized that she can control it and it feels good to do so. She has always been a very happy person and many people like her. The best thing for me is to see how much she likes herself now. I would love to see more of the world take on a Sarah attitude.

This all started because I was behind a very large woman at work today as she shuffled to the elevator and I was trying to go around her to the stairs. She made it down before I did and I could hear her breathing and feel the friction from her thighs rubbing together as we walked. It happens all of the time, unfortunately. I think most frequently I see the fat person in the cart bit. That one really gets me. Today was just the day I had to blow.

2 things

Wouldn't you know it? I get my mind right with starting this collections job Monday (it took some convincing) and yesterday US Bank called! They want to interview me ASAP. The woman who is hiring was sick and she needs someone soon. Since I start the new gig Monday, and I am not relinquishing that position until I have another, I set up an interview for today at 2pm. The money is slightly better; there is room to move up, no working weekends (2 Sundays a month at the other) and insurance after 30 days (a year at the other). I really feel like I have to at least go and hear them out. I would hate to drop the collections job after a week or 2 but my old roomy has worked for them and she made a good point that they wouldn't hesitate to get rid of me so I should not concern myself with them. After getting the boot from my last boss without any warning I am taking on the attitude of looking out for #1. That's me! I am not really hoping I get the job so much as hoping it is a great fit. I really want them to be nice people that I want to work with. I want a good vibe from them and I want to see a good working environment. I think the universe hears me so we shall see what happens.

My 2nd tidbit more than blew my mind. Yesterday I blogged about Dan Choi and his amazing efforts to repeal Don't Ask Don't Tell; I e-mailed him just to let him know he is a hero. Reading his story made me proud to be an American. His bio is rather vague (I assume because he is now back training with his unit) so I wanted to find out more. I am a bit obsessive sometimes. I didn't really expect a return e-mail but I GOT ONE! Not only that he thanked me for my kind words and gave me his PHONE NUMBER to call him. He said he would be happy to help in any way. So my problem now? I am completely star struck! What do I say? How do I act? OMG, this is huge! My final paper isn't due until next weekend and to be able to cite him as my source for a quote directly would be more than awesome. I am trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach so I can call him. Any suggestions on questions to ask would be greatly appreciated.

I think that about wraps up my week. I will update you all on the status of US Bank just as soon as I know something. A great weekend to all!

Peace and Love,
T

Your daily dose of hypocrisy...

The Vatican was rocked by scandal this week after "a gentleman of his holiness" was caught on wire tap ordering young men for his pleasure; a male prostitution ring at the Vatican, if you will. The investigation started because this man was accused of swaying public works contracts to "favoured bidders". Once the wire tap was in place the police discovered that this man was actually ordering young men, some of whom were in training for priesthood. You can read the full story here. I bet the Pope is proud, proud, proud.

Today, because we are so lucky, we have 2 full doses of hypocrisy. Anti-Gay rights republican Senator Roy Ashton was arrested Wednesday leaving a gay club in Sacramento. He was pulled over for erratic driving around 2 am and arrested for DUI. The 'unidentified male' (Does this remind anyone of Sex In The City when Stanford is photographed with Smith Jarred for a magazine and he is listed as the "unidentified older gay gentleman"?) passenger was released but not before admitting he left the club with Mr. Ashton. Anyhoot, with a wife and 4 kids at home, what was this guy doing out at a gay bar called Faces until 2am with a male caller? I think we can all guess that one. Blow jobs don't count, right?

Senator Roy Ashton

Fun Fact: St. Louis used to have a gay club called Faces. It had a dark room like Babylon on Queer as Folk. I went in once. I will never forget the smell and I would NEVER go back. They have no ladies room (it is actually borded up) so I have had a catfight or 2 in the bathroom with unaccepting gay men. My boys were there to back me up, of course. A bartender at Faces once smelled my neck and said, "I smell straight". I guess you can dance in a cage in a gay club but you can't hide your sexuality for one damn second.

And on to the sads…

I don’t know what it is about me but in any given situation that I find upsetting, first I get mad and then on to sad. Today I have a serious case of the sads. I was going to skip the blog altogether today. I mean, who wants to hear about the sads? We all have problems. Sometimes when you are down yourself the last thing you need to hear about is someone else’s sadness. I understand. This year started out with a quest to honestly blog so here it is raw, uncut and super-duper foul.

I still hate my boss. The more I think about his ultimatum the angrier I get. When I interviewed for this job it was something completely different than what I do today. Not to mention, I was completely honest with him. I do not believe in the stock market and I have no interest in licensing! I have been MORE than accommodating to his whimsical theatrics and constant change of plans. When we spoke earlier this week I was angered by most of what he said. Today, my feelings are hurt. I have way more to offer than what he is accepting. He would rather do other things than to build this business which just so happens to be part of my job. He admits to checking out. He tells me how great I am at what I do but then he hinders the hell out of me while I try to do it.

Today was more of the same B.S. A valued friend told me that no matter what certificate or accolade I add to my resume it is more experience for me. She suggested I go for it and get my series 6 license and if nothing else use it to find another job. That theory is all good and fine except I don’t want a job in finance. Truth be told, I didn’t want this one but I needed it. Further licensing will only subject me to offers in an industry that I don’t want to be in. I don’t want money to keep me in a job I hate. Right now the main draw to getting my license is the raise that will come with it. Then there is that fear that I won't leave because of money.

The second fold of this tangled web is that I just recently went back to school. This is not something I shared with my boss, as my personal life is none of his business. Now that he is pressuring for licensing it seems necessary to tell him I have gone back to school. I am on a grant this semester and I have grant funds for summer so the earliest I could even think of my series 6 is fall. I don’t think I could carry a class load, a full time job and study for a securities license. I am talented but not that good. So IF I decided to go for the series 6, college would have to go on hold. (insert HUGE frown here!)

The absolute worst part of this entire week has been me, my attitude and my outlook. Happiness is perspective, I know this. I also know my perspective sucks! I have been feeling something that I wouldn’t admit to most of my closest friends but I am going to reveal here for all of the blogosphere to judge. I am lonely. So lonely that at times, it is palpable in the air. So lonely it hurts. So lonely that I cried alone in my car yesterday and there was no one to care or even know. I haven’t allowed myself to cry since I left CL’s house the day I had to leave Max behind. I thought if I let myself start I would just never stop. I think I may have been on to something.

I have tons of friends and great people in my life. I don’t miss CL or his games and bullshit at all. I miss the idea of having someone who cares about you. I didn’t have that with CL, which is why I say I miss the ‘idea’ of it. Why did it make me feel so good to “think” someone was there? If I could trick myself so easily back then, why can’t I now? Other long-term friendships are slipping away. There is a tremendous amount of sadness from that as well. The person that I used to talk to everyday about everything is no longer who and what they used to be. They honestly haven’t been in a really long time but this week I had the time to think about just how long that relationship has been gone and it makes me feel so low.

At the same time, there is something inside of me that KNOWS change is coming. I have been scheduling every appointment under the sun the past few weeks; dentist, GYN and anything else that will require insurance. I have clearly been preparing for a job change. It might be weeks or months away but without even knowing it, I have been planning for it. I realize I didn’t have CL or his support at any point in our relationship. That has been a huge eye opener for me. I will not accept less than what I need in the future. I feel as if this ‘out with the old’ mentality is preparation for ‘in with the new’. I am trying to break old habits and get out there to try new things with new people.

Tonight I am going to a wedding with my roomy. Tomorrow I have class and then I am going to see my sister and her wife to have some dinner and hopefully a bit of fun. Sunday I am doing Bah-fucking-humbug-Valentine’s Day with my friends Nicole and Aaron. I need to shake this serious case of the sads. Many people have it way worse than I do. Parents are losing their jobs and homes and cannot provide for their kids. That is a problem. Someone out there lost their best friend today, for real. Not just over some stupid bullshit. People are suffering all over the world and here I am being a poor-me! Pity party, table for 1…your time is up. I am off to drunken weekend debauchery in hopes of turning this frown upside down!

On edge...don't push me!

I try not to be a complainer. Everyone has struggles in life. Every day cannot be perfect. I am grateful for what I have, I really am. Even when I am not happy with the way things are going, I try my hardest to show gratitude. Lately, it is getting harder and harder to not beat certain people about the head while asking, "What the hell has gotten into you?" There are many people that I feel could use this treatment but none more so than my boss. I have refrained from openly discussing this on my blog because I do appreciate my job (more so the paycheck it provides) and although I don't share my blog with my co-workers, it is out there on the web for anyone to find. Today I decided that I just don't care anymore. I hate my boss! I said it. I feel liberated. I used to make excuses about how he was a good dad, a good man and a good provider so I wouldn't be so hard on him for being a scatter-brained idiot. The truth, however, has leaked out over time and I am done pretending. I think he might have a serious mental problem. I know for a fact that he is part of an interracial dating site that his homely little wife would not appreciate. He looks at porn at work. I have walked in more than once to inappropriate images on his computer.

When I started this job in the finance industry it was just before the fall of the stock market. I was very clear in my interview that I don't believe in the stock market and I had no interest in being licensed AT ALL. At the time, that was ok. 5 people held my position before me and NOT ONE OF THEM made it through the first 90 days. I was hired to do marketing and event coordinating. Mostly it was explained to me that I would coordinate, set-up and carry out union seminars on pre-retirement. Within months of starting that goal was in the toilet and since then we have jumped around to about 15 directions, all the while wasting time and money. A few months ago my boss comes up with the call strategy for me to call local businesses. Long story short, our compliance department says no way unless I have a license. So my boss reiterates to me for the 900th time since I started that I would make more if I were licensed. He would let me use work time to study. He is selling me on the benefits of getting a license that I have told him no less than 100 times that I am not interested in. At this point I feel like he is threatening my job.

My co-worker got her license a few years ago and got a $10,000 a year raise. She didn't want the license either and loathed every second of it. This is not an easy test. It is information about investments that I could give 2 shits about. If I have no interest, things are that much harder for me to retain. I have my property and casualty insurance license so I know firsthand. I've thought about this before. I pretty much knew he was not a man of his word and this would keep coming up. For me to take on something like this in an industry I hate, for a man I despise, to learn about something I don't believe in, I am going to need a LOT of money. I am thinking $15K a year, $7500 up front and $7500 after I pass. I loathe the idea of this but my alternative for now is the unemployment line and we all know how that is looking.

I have been super down about this whole situation recently. I had it in check for a long while. I was concentrating on school and my future. I was grateful to have a job, yada, yada, ya. Now this fucker wants to meet with me daily and I can't stand more than 5 minutes with him. He is one of these super distracted types, ADD and then some. He can't complete a thought, let alone a sentence. He does a lot of repeating as well as "Uuuuummmm", "Uuuuuuuuuu", "duuuuuuuh". I have no patience for it. Absolutely none! He got frustrated yesterday because he didn't like what I was saying (I was simply telling him what I learned from compliance) so he yelled at me. If we have ever met IRL you know I don't take kindly to yelling. I did raise my voice and make myself super clear. Then I gently brought the conversation back around letting him know how inappropriate he was. I said a little prayer after this that the universe would open up new opportunities for me and allow me a way out.

I have been casually looking for jobs (on work time). I would love to find something in my field of study so I can be working towards a common goal with work and school. This morning my sister e-mailed me this from her HR director:

The firm is seeking a Client Care Representative to join the team. If you know someone who has customer service experience, a passion for working with people, strong phone and computer skills who may be interested in this position, please contact me. Thanks!

Her headline said, "Everything happens for a reason". Of course I sent her my resume within minutes. I don't want to get my hopes up but that is right up my alley. She works for one of the biggest divorce firms in St. Louis and I want to be a child advocate in divorces so that is at least a step in the right direction! I am eternally grateful that the universe is showing me there are options. (Thanks to you too, Sissy!)This might not be my job but it gives me renewed hope that there is one out there for me. It makes me less stressed about my current boss and his douchebaggery. My plan is to push off this whole licensing idea for as long as possible. Then, if I have to, I will tell him my conditions. I don't think he will go for a $15K a year raise but if he does I guess I will start my studies. Let's all pray to the Baby Jesus (or whomever you believe in) that I find another job before:

A) I am forced to study for something I don't want or need and won't use after this job

B)I become violent and offensive to the stupid fuck who signs my checks.

I guess I will add:

C) or the dumb fucker finds my blog and fires me.

one night only

My recent single status has brought to light something that needs addressed, immediately. What I am about to say may shock and offend some; use caution as you read ahead. I have never had a one-night stand! There, I said it, it is out there now. I am not sure why but a lot of my friends are shocked by this. I am a free spirit and I usually do what feels good so I can see where there might be some confusion. The thing is; I am a relationship girl. I hate to admit it but I always have been. Back in the day it was really my MO to jump from one relationship to another. (I am not proud, just stating the facts) I don’t think I spent more than a few months single from junior high all the way to 21 years old. Even then, I left my ex fiancé and pretty quickly started dating Sam. I did finally take a break from relationships on mine and Sam’s off-and-on times and I went completely without sex. Don’t get me wrong, I am a huge fan of self-pleasing so I was not celibate but it sure felt like it at times. I missed the human connection but not the bullshit that comes with a boyfriend so it was a good trade off for a time. There were 2 “breaks” that Sam and I took where I went over a year without sex. This was a conscious decision that I made for myself in an effort to concentrate on me and what I wanted. I spent a lot of time in gay bars and avoiding men in general so it worked out famously. In the end the only thing that I wanted at the time was to get drunk and party. So that is what I did.

The few short term, mostly sexual, encounters that I did have were with people that I knew really well. One person in particular I know for a fact I only slept with a 2nd time to avoid making it a one-night stand but I had known him for over 10 years! Thinking back on that makes me think that I have some sort of inner issue with the one-nighter. My problem with getting my head around that theory is the absolute pride and joy that I take from hearing of my girls being able to go out and get them some with no regrets or bad self image. I encourage them! Keep in mind I was raised by a pig of a man who said all women were sluts at some point or another. Perhaps daddy dearest has something to do with this too. The one and only person I have had sex with once, and only once, was a dear friend whom I had very deep feelings for at the time, so I can’t count that either.

To me a one-night stand is meeting a stranger, taking them home to savage them and sending them on their way in the morning. Why can’t I get my head around this and just do it? I love Sex and the City and I celebrate their conquests, why not my own? Well, for one thing I have that whole “emotional connection” thing. I somehow got it into my head that if I am not emotionally connected in some way, the sex will be no good. Perhaps I think I will feel cheap, dirty or used? I think my bigger issue is that I have never done it so I can’t see the other side of the coin, the greener grass, if you will. See, with a one-night stand there is no worry about satisfying the other person. There is no pressure to impress. There is nothing but taking care of you. I can do that!

Some of you may remember this post a few months ago about my emotional connection to a friend. I think back on that night and it was completely my decision to keep that “cuddle session” strictly platonic. My first one-night stand can’t be with someone I know and actually like as a person, can it? How would you keep it to one night when you know and see someone that much? More importantly, why did I think it over so much instead of just DOING it? It is not like he wouldn’t respect me later. I would certainly have no problems respecting myself. In fact, I think I might have respected myself more! Why the hesitation? I am single, STD free and well over the age of consent. What is my problem? What if it wasn’t even a one-night stand and actually could have become a nice fuck-buddy arrangement? I mean, shit, what is my problem?

These last few months I have really contemplated this subject. I know it seems stupid but I can’t go another year or more with just me and my vibrator. This time around single is different, maybe because I am older and wiser. I know what I want for the most part and I definitely know what I won’t settle for. I am concentrated on making decisions focusing on myself and my future. I know that when the time is right, and once I am completely happy with every aspect of me and my life on my own, the right person will come along to truly enhance my life. Until then, who do I do? I am not much of a drinker so meeting people in bars is no good. I don’t really want to take some crazy home anyway. I pride myself on being a good judge of character but you can never be too careful when your va-jay-jay is involved. I just don’t know where to turn. How do I break myself of this terrible curse? I know if I posted some sort of plea that the offers would come rolling in. Perhaps I should just call Mr. Cuddles and get it over with. I don’t know what to do. I am pretty sure the next time opportunity presents itself I am going to POUNCE on it though;-)

The Aspen Diet

I ran into a gay couple recently that I am extremely close to. It has been too long since we have connected and I had been trying for months to see or talk to them. Immediately I noticed that the younger of the 2 was looking rather thin. He used to be a bigger, boisterous boy so it was quite noticable. I have known this man/child since he was a wee lad and he has always been on the "chubby" side so I had to ask, "girl, what happened to you?" I don't mean this offensively but homegirl lost the chub and then some. He starts going on and on about this new workout routine, blah, blah, blah. I am believing him until I hear a bitchy, under the breath comment from his boyfriend, "yeah, it's called the Aspen diet". I was like Judy Jetson watching George fly by the house on his way home...super confused. I noticed a few other "off" things about this pair and filed them for contemplation later.

So I am on my way home that night trying to relax with my thoughts when the "Aspen Diet" comment will not leave me. Aspen diet? What is Aspen known for? That is simple...skiing! What do you ski on? Again, simple-Simon, SNOW. What drug is universally refered to as snow, ski, powder, candy? Cocaine! (Can you see the light come on too?)I almost wrecked my car. Keep in mind I have known this particular boy a very long time and this was very unexpected.

I was in the process of thinking about how I was going to discuss this issue with him when I find out that another (very old) friend has a problem of their own. Of course, to them is it not a problem. If you can't pay your rent, put gas in your car or feed your kid but you can afford coke, no problem, right? You are doing it everyday or every other day and you are giving up the necessities of your life to buy it but that isn't a problem, right? Is it not a problem then until you sniff one too many lines and land yourself in the hospital, or better yet, the morgue?

A very good friend recently had to do an intervention with a family member who was doing herione. We are talking about a young adult, mid 20's, who has the world at their finger tips. The entire world and this person chooses a tiny pill that if taken too close to the last one can, and will, kill a person. This family was lucky and their loved one did not fight them. They admitted the problem and asked for help. I don't know many addicts who are strong enough to do that. I keep him in my thoughts daily.

The economy sucks. People are out of work and in debt up to their eyeballs. Is that why so many are turning to illegal and harmful drugs? I am no Pollyanna. If you know me in life, you know that I am no where near prude. I will admit, I have done cocaine. I am one of the few, the proud and the lucky that does not like it. The taste is horrible and I hate the way it makes me feel. Who wants to snort and grind all night for a "high"? I am personally more of a naturalist, if you will. If it comes from the earth, I am good with it. If I know it has been cut with Ajax, Drano and Meth...not so much for me. Drug dealers "cut" cocaine with the cheapest and most effective thing they can find. Keep that in mind. In high school many of the rich kids that I went to school with were hooked on coke. It was such a disgusting habit. They became disgusting people to me and I eventually skipped any gathering that I knew their crew would attend. It wasn't until I was well into my 20's and a regular on the gay bar scene that I had my first experience with coke. I could do 1 line and be good for the night. I don't need anymore alcohol but you might have to pry me off of the stage or out of the cage in order to leave. I never felt that pull to do more and I always hated myself the next day as it gave me horrible sinus pain.

For this reason, I don't understand the addictive properties that others experience. After I left my ex fiance he dabbled in coke pretty regularly. He got many of my friends at the time hooked on the shit. I remember going back to our old house after I had moved out, for a party. About 5 minutes after I arriced I realized it was just me and 1 other girl in the livingroom. Everyone else had piled into the bedroom. It used to be my house and my room so I went busting in. There before me one of my very best friends was cutting up lines for the room full of people. I grabbed my shit and tried to bolt but they all (including the ex) stopped me. It wasn't the time or place but I let them all have it about how irresponsible and ridiculous they were being. I told them I was pissed but it was none of my business. I assured them I would not be back to that house and if they continued on the road they were on I would not be seeing them anymore either. I know for a fact that 1 person in that room never touched coke again after that. Eventually they all cleaned themselves up. Well, I can't speak for the ex but my friends did.

I am sickened, saddened and repulsed by this Aspen Diet situation. The boys from my first example will no longer return my calls and requests to hang out. Perhaps someone has tipped them off that I am onto them. I had a theory about my 2nd example the "old friend". I thought that rock bottom needed to be met in order to get them help. After seeing this person and hanging out I realize that rock bottom will include a jail, a hospital or a morgue. Perhaps all 3 before it is said and done. I almost feel like these folks are trying to kill themselves in a slow painful death. Unfortunately this is not my first time at the Aspen Diet Rodeo. I have lived with people with addictions before. I did not see it until it was too late. I will NEVER miss the signs again. I am alert, I am present and I have got to do something.

8 years ago my friend, Jason, died of a heroine overdose. He was a childhood friend who lost his way. We were friends up until a few months before he died. We didn't talk anymore because of the people he hung out with and the needles he insisted on sticking in his arm, chasing that original high. I never tried to stop him or even confronted him about it, I just didn't hang out anymore. The guilt that I felt at watching his parents at his funeral say "if we had only known" and "if someone would have just told us what was going on". They might have been able to save Jason and they might not have. After living through that experience I will never again gamble with the life of a friend. I guess I am off to plan a few interventions. Wish me luck.

77 comments later...

I created a stir this week, a big one. It was on Facebook and really innocent enough. I was super duper hung over Tuesday and instead of my usual uplifting daily quote I updated my status with what was on my mind. (Big no-no for furture)

First I posted this: Lemme make sure I got this right. Just because I am not interested in you I must hate men or be a lesbian? Buddy, if my last chance for sex on earth were you or a woman, I will take the vajayjay. At least with a woman I would have a full head of hair to grab onto and I could avoid the stupid questions like "what's the ...wildest thing you've ever done?” Bang; dead douche walking. And he still almost went in for a kiss!

I was still clearly frustrated from Monday night's debauchery!

Second: Bottomless pit Tuesday over here at Hangover Hollow. 1 bagel and cream cheese, 8 cups of coffee, a 2 piece Church's Chicken lunch with double mashed taters and gravy WITH corn and fried okra (hangover remedy of champions) all before noon. Still hungry. (posted around 11am, not proud, just sayin')

I eat like a horse when I am hung over.

Third (This is the doozy that got panties in a bunch): Is it just me or does anyone else wonder where all of these millions for Haiti are really going?

I got 77 comments and 3 "likes". My issue is that most of these comments were politically driven. My friends come from all different walks of life and have varied opinions. This became a platform to hate on current reform, recent elections and become downright insulting to others' political views. WHERE IS THE FREAKING MONEY? I don't care who you voted for. I am very liberal in most of my views but perhaps this is one where I am more conservative. I don't see why our government, who has enough trouble of their own, sees the need to fork over millions of dollars to a corrupt government. This aid has been pouring in for weeks but we see little results on the ground.

Between the Hope for Haiti telethon, our government (in debt how many trillions?) and the millions of independent donors I think we can all agree the figure raised is upwards of 100 million. Does anyone have any idea the amount of interest earned on 100 million dollars, daily? How about this texting for the Red Cross? They are airing commercials on Clear Channel. Who is paying for that? Last I checked the Red Cross has out-of-hand administrative costs so something like $4 comes off the top of your donation to pay salaries, healthcare and for private jets. Where does the other $6 go? You can give an extra dollar anywhere and everywhere right now in the name of Haiti. Who is making sure that money get to the victims?

Let's be honest, for probably 50 million, you could level the whole country and start over. So where is the damned money? There is this little gem of a website: http://www.charitynavigator.org/ that makes you wonder when it is ok to ask where your money went. If you read long and hard enough it basically says you can't. In a few months you may get a general answer but nothing specific.

I am a giver. I am all about helping others. This whole scene reminds me of Katrina. I know they are not the same but the images of people in our country experiencing the same crisis did not evoke this level of concern. Our government did a terrible job of helping those in need here at home. I am not saying we deserve help more or less than the next person but shouldn't we take care of ourselves so we are better prepared to help others? We are not in a position as a country to help right now. American citizens are struggling each day. I talk to union workers who lose their jobs daily. I know many single moms who aren't sure where there next meal will appear from. I know Haiti deserves help. I know that, unfortunately, as Americans we are taught the best way to help is to send money. There seems to be a lot of money that remains unaccounted for. I am thinking the Haitians would do better with our prayers for a stable government. Or how about prayers that the relief we have already given will be received? How long will America continue to capitalize on this tragedy? I pray for a better way of life for them as they rebuild but I won't be sending my text to save Haiti anytime soon.

Where it all began- Part 1

I went to grade school at Becky-David Elementary with Leigh. We had 4 cycles: A, B, C and D. We went for 9 weeks and then we were off for 3. Leigh and I were on different cycles which pretty much meant we were sworn enemies. These cycles might as well have been countries because we were much divided. There was no fraternization with other cycles in those days. Sometimes someone would step out of their cycle for a boy but that always created havoc. I remember Leigh in grade school from the lunch room and play ground. I didn’t know much about her but I genuinely disliked many of her friends. Leigh was raised in an affluent neighborhood where the families earned well over my lower to middle class parents. There was clearly a divide but she didn’t see it. I remember Leigh was MC of our talent show and her mom came up to school to fluff and accessorize her for her big debut. My mother was not so active in my own childhood and I yearned for a mom who supported and praised. I was impressed with Robin Gramlich from the moment I laid eyes on her. I don’t remember ever speaking to Leigh in grade school. I really don’t remember any direct contact. My only memory is really wishing that I had a mom like hers.

Fast forward to the first day of 7th grade and my 1st hour class is drama. I LOVE drama! Who is sitting next to me but Leigh Gramlich of the cycle B, bitches (yep, that is what we called them). I remember she said; “I love your sense of style. I always noticed your clothes in elementary school”. I was raiding my older sister’s closet everyday and I shared that with her. She had no siblings at home so she ate that up. Our first assignment was to pair up (clearly we chose each other, what kind of story do you think this is?) and make nicknames for our new partner. From that day forward we were known as Laughing Leigh and Talking Toni.

We hung out almost every weekend that first year of our friendship. My parents moved out of the school district the summer before 8th grade and Leigh’s mom offered for me to ride the bus from their house since there was no bus to my house anymore. Leigh and I were inseparable all through our 8th grade year. We found so many similarities in ourselves and also so many differences during that time. I was going through the recent divorce of my parents and she was an amazing support. It was the first time in my life that I had a home to come home to. At my house it was just me and my dad. No one got me off the bus, asked about my day or made me any cookies. I will never forget that first day off of the bus, Robin waiting for us both with open arms. She wanted to know everything! To my amazement she knew all of the players and she could flow with the conversation like I had never seen a mom do before. I asked Leigh later why she shared so much with her mom (I sure didn’t) and she said her mom was one of her best friends and they talked about everything. She wasn’t lying.

Flashback

Warning: This post is heart wrenching. I had to get it out. I do not suggest reading if you aren’t ready for a good cry. (That really makes you want to read it, huh?) Maybe NSFW. (not safe for work)

I can’t shake this feeling so I am going to blog it out. Today is my friend Nichole’s 31st birthday. 10 years ago we celebrated her 21st birthday on January 28th 2000. It was a cold, snowy night. I remember that I had a horrible feeling in my gut. I couldn’t bail on a friend, especially on her 21st birthday. We went to a few bars, none of which were a blast. The anxiety I felt almost made me bail on the night a few times but I continued to push it down and party ahead. On the commute from one bar to another I called my then fiancé to tell him we were leaving one place and going to another. I had NEVER done this before. We got to our final location and I tried with all of my might to have fun. About 45 minutes after arriving I saw my fiancé making his way through the crowded bar with my best guy friend, John at his side. I knew something was terribly wrong. He would NEVER follow me to a bar on girl’s night. The look in John’s eyes confirmed my gut feeling. Chad (the ex) asked us all to step outside. This bar is in a plaza so when you leave the bar you are still in the plaza (sort of like a mall). It was me, my friend Nichole, our friend Meaghan and a girl we worked with. I don’t remember what I said but I know I knew something was not right and I told him to just come out with it. I will never forget his words, “Toni, Leigh is dead”. There was a horn blaring or a siren, something was keeping me from hearing. I made him repeat it over and over again. Each time he said it I watched as John’s face fell further and further. Meaghan had been a friend of Leigh’s since grade school. Nichole had known her since junior high. She was one of all of our very best friends.

I didn’t believe Chad. I just couldn’t accept this information. I told him I wanted to talk to her mom so he dialed the phone and I remember saying “please tell me this isn’t true”. I don’t remember all of her words but she told me that it was true, Leigh was gone. She and Leigh’s dad were already en route to Columbia where Leigh was away at school. She invited/asked me to come needing all of the support she could get. I remember taking Nichole home and making phone calls from her apartment. Meaghan’s husband, Jim, and Chad worked together and were good friends so the 4 of us piled into the car at 2 am and headed to Columbia in a blizzard. I don’t know how long the drive was with the weather. I don’t think we talked. I remember the way the snow fell and visibility being low. There are times now that snow falls in that way and it takes me back instantly to that night. By the time we arrived in Columbia Leigh’s parents had left the hospital and were on their way to her apartment. We met them there. The doors and windows were covered in Leigh’s bubbly handwriting wishing her roommate a happy 21st birthday. The whole house was decorated for the big day, just as Leigh would have done, all out. Her room looked like a bomb had gone off, just like her room at home.

I remember walking in and seeing a pillow behind the headboard and a boa tied to the post and thinking ‘I can’t let her mother see this’. So I nonchalantly walked over to pull it down and Leigh’s mom says “I saw it already, that’s my girl”. We were all in such shock, standing there discussing what she should be buried in. I will never forget her mom walking into her closet, pulling on her robe and just burying her face in it to smell her. We found our friend Julie’s birthday present wrapped and ready to go, which was very unlike Leigh. There were so many memories scattered across the floor of that room I just couldn’t concentrate. We decided on burying her in her overalls, her absolute favorite thing to wear. It was so hard to do but looking back I cannot imagine things being any other way.

I don’t remember the ride home…or the next 3 days. I know John came to sit with me the next day while Chad worked. He told me later that I didn’t say a word for the entire 9 hours he sat with me. I didn’t cry. I just stared into space, no TV and no radio; just silence. I remember on day 2 I got flowers from my best friend in Colorado. She was torn she could not be with me. Because Leigh and I had lived together and were very good friends, all of my friends knew her. The flowers had a pink tool bow (Leigh loved tool) and I think that was my very first good cry. I went to meet the minister at Leigh’s parent’s house as requested. I lived in that house, with her. It was hard to go back. It was hard to talk about who and what Leigh was in life knowing I would have to go on without her. It was even harder to go through pictures and make poster boards for the funeral. There were so many memories there.

I am honestly not sure how I made it through all of this. I think that life gives you the memory of what you need to get through it but takes that which would kill you. Leigh’s funeral was my first time as a pall bearer. Hopefully it is my last. Her funeral was truly a celebration of her life. Her mom put down the rug from her bedroom in front of the casket. Her comforter from home surrounded her. There were lava lamps, photos and even her stereo and cd’s in the back room for everyone to place their favorite music in her memory. I don’t know why but I remember her boobs looked huge and her mom and I discussing it as others were waiting to pay their respects. (Sometimes you have to find something to laugh about and Leigh would have loved how large her breasts looked, even in death) I remember her strong military brother saluting her casket as he broke down crying. I remember Joanne choking out the eulogy I could not speak at the time. I remember her sorority sisters lining the walk and singing their sorority song as her casket was carried by. I remember my dad being so affected that he could not come to the wake and missing the funeral. I was devastated. And then the church doors opened and he was standing outside by himself waiting at her gravesite. I remember my 6 foot + giant of a friend almost crumbling with grief as he carried our girl to her final spot. I remember kissing her casket at the end of the service and feeling like Leigh was standing right beside me letting me know she was not in there.

The thing I remember most about the funeral: Leigh’s mom embracing the boy who was driving the car, in front of all of us, and telling him it was not his fault. He was with his parents. His face was still cut and bruised. He looked over when the impact hit Leigh’s side of the car and was blinded in his right eye by glass shards. He had horrible guilt. I remember her telling him that this was just Leigh’s time to go. God had called her home, she had a greater purpose with him and he couldn’t let guilt take him over. I was amazed then and I am still amazed today that a grieving mother could handle things as well as she did. How many people could step back and celebrate their daughter’s life and legacy in such a way so soon after her death? I KNOW Leigh’s mom’s reaction helped me to let it go as well. She was and still is today a huge source of inspiration on who and what I want to be when I grow up.

Most of the time I can look back on Leigh and remember her life, her amazing spirit and the goodness and love she brought to my life. I don’t’ know if it is Nichole’s birthday celebration tonight, the predicted snow or the 10 year anniversary of her death looming in 3 days but today feels like the day I lost her all over again. It is cutting my gut and I can’t breathe. I promise to do a tribute and a much more positive post for Leigh in the coming days.

Here we are on my 21st birthday, just 2 months before she died.

UPDATE 1/26/10: I just read back through this and my editing skills are seeing so much lacking for the reader. I was really just in such need to get it out. To make it all make sense I should have probably mentioned that Leigh died in a car accident. It was her roommate's 21st birthday. They went out that night with a sober driver who happened to be the birthday girl's boyfriend. They hit a patch of ice at an intersection and went into a spin. The Suburban they were driving came to a rest on a cement light post, directly where Leigh was sitting in the front seat. Her lifelong bestfriend, Jennifer, was in the backseat. They had actually flipped a coin to see who would sit up front. Jennifer had to crawl over her to get out of the car because the passenger seat pinned her in. She told me one time, the day we ment the minister, what happened that night as she remembered it and we never spoke of it agan. I still wonder how Leigh's mom got them to tell her over the phone that Leigh had died. That is just something they never do. I asked her about it once and she told me that someday she would share that but it was just too raw at the time. To this day I find it a bit ironic that Leigh was terrified of motorcycles and she was killed in a Suburban.

I feel much better today than yesterday. Writing (and rereading)this post really helped. I did go out for Nichole's birthday last night despite the snow. The whole way home was that crazy blizzard-type snow that takes me back. It wasn't until I got home and settled into bed that I realized how peaceful and sirene my drive home had been with that snow. I didn't listen to the radio. I just had this beautiful and comfortable silence. The kind you can only have with the best of friends.

NO H8

Last night my sister and I went to the local lesbian bar where they were doing a photo shoot for the No H8 campaign in St. Louis. No H8 was born out of necessity and in direct contrast to The Defense Of Marriage Act (DOMA) (it is important to know what and who we are up against) which was created by the churchies as a way to defend "traditional marriage". You know, like Brittney's 55 hour hook-up, Tiger's sacred union, Liz Taylor's 8 marriages...you get my point. I feel like when we say we are all created equal we should back that up. There is no loophole that says we are all equal UNLESS you sleep with the same sex. You can read the entire story of the No H8 campaign by clicking on the link. I love the idea of it. Basically they take individual or group photos of you in a v-neck t-shirt with electrical tape over your mouth and a No H8 tattoo on your face. I have been wanting to attend a photo shoot for some time but the timing never worked out for me. Yesterday it did and I am really glad I went. The official campaign photo is taken with a white background. I will have a copy eventually but I certainly did my own amatuer photography in the meantime.

Here I am in all of my glory.
My sister wearing dad's dog tags. He would just love that.
Sissy and me

Mighty fine self portrait if I do say so myself.

My luva Kris and his gorgeous dimples!

My sister and her friend that works at NP's where the photo shoot was held.

Jim the bartender

Me and Dan, yet anotha gay luva;-) Interesting fact, he used to date my gay hubby.

Nancy Novak and Dan. Nancy owns Novak's, NP's and Bar 5 the 3 biggest lesbian bars in St. Louis. Probably the biggest gay bars but who am I to say?

My sis and her buddy, I can't recall her name but she was a doll

Now we are getting drunk, as I let them write on my face with SHARPIE! Aren't we cute though?

My very favorite Queen, Dieta Pepsi

Nancy and me. Pretty sure she slipped me the tongue.

Zac is a co-worker of my sister-in-law. He might think we are crazy. He might be right.

The obligatory self portrait!

I am proud of St. Louis. Our mayor came to have his photo taken and was quoted in the local newspaper saying: "We all really are more alike than we are different," Slay said. "We have to be more accepting as a community." He said that differences in ethnicity, religion, talent and sexual preference are things that should be celebrated, not divisive. I love that we have elected officials who finally feel like I do. I am proud that so many gay people and their family and friends came out to support this project. I am proud that I could attend with my very own gay sister and run into so many great people of the community on a Sunday night. I had a little bit too much to drink. Thank the Baby Jesus I was off for MLK day today as I didn't drag myself home until almost 4am. I might have kissed a ton of lesbians, gay boys and a drag queen but I had a fantastic time. I donated to a great cause and I was a part of something bigger than even I comprehend at this moment.

P.S. Hubby did my hair on Saturday and it is just absolutely fabulous. Loving the new color!

Old Ex Update

My self discovery trek has taken me to the edges of sanity and back. I have learned a hell of a lot about me in the past few weeks (or 31 years, depending on how you look at it). I wrote this post last week about a nasty e-mail to an ex that I found in my saved e-mails. I was not proud of the way I handled the situation and I wasn't sure how to correct it. I am all about honesty blogging this year so I posted the e-mail in it's entirety to my blog. It was not easy as it put my most raw and vulnerable self out there for all to see (and judge). I felt great about the feedback that I got. I pondered whether I was feeling guilty or sorry. I thought about contacting him vs. just letting it go. Anna made a good point that if I was doing it to make myself feel better it was probably better to just leave well enough alone. In the end, I know him to be a sensitive guy and I felt like he looked back with sadness or regret and I didn't want that. I wanted him to know that I do think well of him and despite my horrible, hateful and awful words; I do still remember the good times.

My plan was to friend request him on Facebook. He has been popping up for months as a suggested friend. I knew there was a possibility that he would ignore me and in that case I would not have gone any further. Alas, he accepted my friend request late last week and then I got major writers block. What to say now? This is what I came up with and sent on Monday:

I was going through some old e-mails and correspondence recently and I came across an e-mail you sent to me back in 2007. I hope that things between us are water under the bridge at this point but I was not proud of the things that I said to you in my response. I was hurt but that is no excuse for being mean. I don't even know if you remember this so I won't go into detail but I want you to know that I do think well of you. I look back fondly on our time together and I remember the good way more than the bad at this point. I'm sorry my pain in the past kept me from letting you know that you were not the horrible person you were beating yourself up for being. I am sure you are in a much better and happier place now but I didn't want you looking back and think that all I have is bad memories. There was too much good to have you thinking badly of either of us. I hope all is well with you. Take Care, Toni

I did not expect any response but I sent it off feeling love in my heart for him for the first time in a long time. We had a tumultuous relationship and, quite frankly, I didn't think of him for so long that it is quite a surprise to now be able to think of him in a positive way again. Time does heal. Today I came into work, got onto my FB and I had this from him:

No worries. I was an asshole at times and realize that my decisions in life have had consequences. I think of you, and the good times we shared often..... way more than the bad. I'm sorry for hurting you as well and now that we have both grown up it is refreshing to have this talk. Thank you for being a "bigger" person and reaching out. Hope all is well with you and your family. Love always, Sam

Why does he have to be so nice? Love always? Now what?

One Way Ticket to Hell

I am working really hard lately at being honest and true to myself. Apparently this is a quest I started long ago. I went through some old e-mails yesterday in an attempt to find some old pictures I knew I had saved. I had also saved quite a few e-mails over the past 4 years or so. My final correspondence with an ex was there and so I read it wondering why I had saved it. After having read it I have to wonder a bit if I am not one of those people that purge any information I deem too damaging to my psyche. I don’t remember this e-mail correspondence, or the letter that he speaks of in it. I confirmed with a friend yesterday that he did in fact mail a letter that I did in face ignore. Let me give you the background before we really dig up my shame.

I started dating Sam in 2000 shortly after the break-up of my 4 year relationship/engagement. We were fast friends and really just enjoyed spending time together. Sam had a child, Sammy, who was about 2 when we met. Baby Mama left town for a job and never returned. He was really messed up about her taking his kid and him not having the means at the time to fight her. He was never quite whole after that. Sam was wild. His dad was in prison a good portion of his life so he was raised by his mom and sister. He was a very sensitive and caring guy until you hurt his feelings, then he was out to hurt you. We dated off and on for the next 5 years. We were toxic to one another but drawn together like magnets. I can think of 2 times that our fights escalated to physical violence and police intervention. To top off all of this drama we worked together and hung in the same social circle.

After one of our many splits in 2004 I moved to Colorado. I couldn’t find work and ultimately was offered a position back home so I moved back. Sam was devastated by my move. He actually called me in Colorado one day and said that he and 2 other friends were planning a trip to Amsterdam. He couldn’t think of anyone else in the world he would want to go with. He actually bought my ticket and I paid for the hotel for 9 glorious days. We acted couple-like, stayed together and probably got it on but we were really just friends at that point. For 2 years after Amsterdam we remained close friends. We talked about everything from family, work and other lovers at this point.

Sam’s birthday in 2006 we went out to a bar his sister worked at. All of our old friends were there and we both had a blast dancing and partying into the night. Sam was on and off with his most recent girl but she was not there for some reason. We closed the bar and then went back to his house with 20 or so close friends and continued to party until way into the night. I stayed over as the sun was coming up as we went to bed. I had slept over many times, in his bed, in the last 2 years without incident. I am sure you can guess the rest. I won’t blame the alcohol or copious amounts of cocaine (trying to be honest). It was all us and we were both all in. The next morning I did not feel good about myself. Although I knew his relationship wasn't “serious” I was still very much not proud of my behavior. It was a mistake. I thought we both knew that and could move on.

Unfortunately, I think Sam thought we were going to get back together. He kept telling me how much he loved me but he had hurt this other person he cared for too. I was the other woman and I felt dirty and shameful about it. The guilt of that made it hard to talk to him. This was not about his “relationship” so much as what I had done to another person. A person I did not know but it still rocked my world. So for a week or so after our get-drunk-and-screw moment we had these awkward conversations about how much he loved me and always had. He just needed time to work out his other situation. He even called one of my best friends’ and her then-boyfriend to get them all hopped up on us getting back together. The whole time I had doubt in my mind and my heart. I didn’t want to be back with him. I wanted our friendship. I had ruined any chance of that and I knew it so I cut him out. Much like Dan just cut me out. Irony? Karma?

So apparently he mailed a letter 6 months later. When he got no response, he sent this e-mail:

OK! This will be my last attempt to contact you. I want you to know that I'm human & nobody is perfect. I realize that I messed up... so I wrote you which I haven’t done to anyone since my father was in prison.) I got noresponse : ( Two weeks ago I was at {fellow Amsterdam travelers house} & we were talking about our trip two years ago and all I could think about was how there wasa missing piece to our stories... the missing piece was you. I understand our anger but life is too short to stay mad! I have been through a lot lately!Changed jobs, dad ill, custody of my son, etc etc etc! I'm probably moving soon and don't know where life will take me but when I saw you on the highway two days ago it made me smile, sad, and crazy if you couldn't tell by my riding! I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU.PS: I REALLY BELIEVE THAT IF YOU DIDN'T CARE YOU WOULD'T HAVE SPED UP TO ME WEDNESDAY. WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN AVICTIM OF BAD TIMING... TAKE CARE!

Ok, so nice enough, right? I don’t remember the letter. I sure don’t remember seeing him on the highway. It seems he sent the letter, and then he saw me so he followed up with the e-mail. I don’t remember being angry at him over the drunken sex but more myself. Maybe I was angry at him for trying to make a relationship out of it. I don’t remember but this was my response:

I am not sure what it is that you want from me. I didn’t respond to your letter because it seemed to be written only to make yourself feel better. It is very clear to me that you are still not genuinely sorry for anything.You need a friend and I have always been a good one to you. I would like tobe able to say that it is all good but it isn’t. I forgive you, if that is what you need. I, too, have been through many changes recently, all for the better. In the time after we stopped talking I realized that I wasn’t being true to myself and I was trying to make things happen that weren’t meant tobe. I take responsibility for my own actions and I don’t completely blame you for what happened between us. I understand that it takes two. I tried to be the best friend to you that I possibly could, despite the way that you treated me. You were not a good friend in return. I also tried my hardest to be what you wanted in a girlfriend. I can only imagine from the way that you treated and talked to me that it was not good enough for you. The last time we spoke you told me that I made you miserable and that everything that happened between us was my fault. I realized that day that it wasn’t me, it was you. You wanted me to feel guilty for what you were doing to someone else. That was the day that I recognized how I wasn’t listening to myself.I had been everything and nothing to you and none of it felt good to me anymore.That day I found my self-confidence and self worth again. I thank you forthat. I know when you think back on the old days you think of meand the ways that I was there for you. My constant support and encouragement were something that you could always count on. We even got to a point that you could discuss your relationships with others and daily struggles without the pressure of what used to be between us. That was my gift to you, truly releasing the past and being the best friend that I could to you. During those times, you routinely lied to me and treated me badly because of issues that you had, not because of anything that I had done to you. You didn’t support my decisions in life and mostly criticized what I did tell you. Then I started to hear all about the things that happened when we were together. There was a lot that I never discussed withyou out of respect for our friendship and not wanting to bring up past hurt. The summarization is that you pretty much cheated and lied the entire time we were together. From lying about where you were to sleeping with countless other people to hookers in Amsterdam…you covered it all. I don’t say any of this to bring up past hurt now but to make you understand that your picture looking back and my perception are quite different. What you got out of our time together and what I got are two totally different things. Don’t get me wrong, I learned a lot from you about what I don’t want and how I won’t allow myself to be treated anymore and I am thankful for it. The time with you will help me toalways follow my gut and trust in myself above all else. We know too many of the same people to not cross paths again in the future. I hear about you and I would imagine that you hear a good deal about me. I will be civilized to you, if and when I do see you. Not so much for you, as for me because you are right about one thing, life is too short to be angry. I am happy and hopeful about the future. I am finally moving beyond all of the hurt and turmoil and I am ready to love again with all of my heart. I am a much more positive person and am learning more eachday to live to the fullest without regret. I don’t hate you. I hate the things that you did to me and the lack of respect that you showed me but I allowed it all to happen so I can’t place all of the blame on you. All I can say is that from this day forward I will follow my heart and not hold back. I will be true to myself until the day I die and I will respect and treat others as I wish to be respected and treated. I hope that you can learn the value of that someday and I truly do hope that you get what you want and deserve out of this life.If you still feel the need to talk to me with all of that said, feel free to call. You know me, at least somewhat after all of this time. I amnot a hater....always a lover.

Always a lover, says the me of almost 3 years ago. I say I am not angry but I sure sound mad, don’t I? I talk a good talk there at the end about being true to myself but I made the same mistakes with CL as far as trying to make it into something it was not. This was a hugely eye opening experience for me, rereading this e-mail. I am not proud of the tone, judgment or hurtful things I had to say. Today, almost 3 years later, I can’t believe I actually composed this e-mail, let alone sent it to him. I know this is a shock but he responded again after that; twice. Here is the first:

I APPRECIATE YOU GIVING ME THE COURTESY OF A RESPONSE. I HAVE NOT CONTACTEDYOU FOR SELF FULFILLMENT AND I'M SORRY THAT YOU FEEL THAT WAY. I NOW KNOWWHAT KIND OF PERSON YOU THINK I AM. I HAVE REALIZED OVER THE LAST MONTH(AFTER I SENT YOU THE LETTER) THAT I DON'T REALLY HAVE ANY FRIENDS.... ONLYACQUAINTANCES. IF I WASN'T SORRY FOR HOW THINGS TURNED OUT I PROBABLYWOULDN'T BE TRYING TO RIGHT MY WRONG WITH ONE WHO I GENUALLY FEEL WAS A TRUEFRIEND. I MAY NOT HAVE BEEN THE BEST BOYFRIEND OR FRIEND AND FOR THAT I ALSOTAKE THIS AS A LEARNING EXPIERIENCE. WHEN I BOUGHT MY HOME AND YOU THREW APARTY FOR ME I PLANNED ON YOU BEING HERE AND LIVING WITH ME. I TRIED TO GETINTIMATE WITH YOU AND WAS REJECTED. WE SPENT JULY 4TH '05 TOGETHER AND YOUSHOWED NO INTEREST OTHER THAN FRIENDS. FOR WHATEVER REASON PROBABLY LIQUEURWE DECIDED TO SLEEP WITH EACH OTHER ON MY BIRTHDAY '06. I HAD A SO CALLED (GIRLFRIEND) AND THAT’S WHY I BLAME OUR END ON BAD TIMING... ALL THE TIME WEWERE BOTH SINGLE AND STILL ATTRACTED TO EACH OTHER AND NEITHER ONE OF USMADE A MOVE. WHO KNOWS WHY, BUT I HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT EVERYTHING HAPPENS FORA REASON. AS FOR WHEN WE WERE TOGETHER I KNOW THAT I WAS FAITHFULL AND TOOKOUR RELATIONSHIP VERY SERIOUSLY... WE BOTH HAVE DIFFERENT VIEWS OF WHEN WEWERE TOGETHER OR NOT. "BELIEVE NONE OF WHAT YOU HEAR AND HALF OF WHAT YOUSEE." IF YOU BELIEVE IN KARMA I GOT A HEAVY DOSE!!!! MORE THAN I CAN SAYOVER E-MAIL OR THE PHONE! YOU HAVE NO IDEA! AS FAR AS SEEING ME IN PUBLICWITH "FRIENDS" ... NOT GONNA HAPPEN. I HAVE GIVEN UP EVERYONE EXCEPT (insert childhood best friend here). IT HURTS ME TO KNOW THAT ALL OF YOUR MEMORIES OF ME ARE NEGATIVE. MAYBE ONE DAY YOU WILL LOOK BACK ON SOME OF OUR PAST AND CRACK A SMILE. I HOPE THE BEST FOR YOU AND DONT EXPECT A RESPONSE.P.S. I GO TO COURT ON WEDNESDAY FOR CUSTODY! THANK YOU FOR MOTIVATING ME!

I don’t even really have commentary on that. He is thanking me for responding with hate! So here is my response back:

It was not all negative and please don't think that I sit back and think bad things of you all day, every day. I don't. I know you have good qualities and I know we had good times. I do sometimes think back on those times as well. The most recent memories are the ones that hurt. I tried very hard to just be your friend, regardless of our feelings for each other. I felt like you didn't respect that or your relationship last year on your birthday. I don't blame you for what happened. It was really just sex with no soul because things weren't there for us anymore. If you hadn't tried to make it into something it was not, and tell me how much you loved me and wanted me, we probably could have forgotten all about it and moved on being friends. It really hurt me that you involved (insert mutual friend’s names here) . They believed in you more than I did and I think they were probably more disappointed than I was when things didn't work out. I expected you to be a coward and you were. I don't say that to hurt you. If you loved me like you have claimed to all of this time...we wouldn't be where we are.I am sorry about you not having any friends. I did try to tell you that none of those people were your friends but you were high on life. I tried to communicate a lot of things that you didn't hear but forming a good circle of friends and support network was the most important. I believe that people can change and rise above their circumstances. If you have the courage and the will, you can accomplish anything. I really have changed a lot recently as well. You don't know me anymore and I don't know you but we will both always be someone that we sometimes knew better than ourselves...isn't that strange?Good luck on Wednesday. I know having Sammy in your life will make you somewhat complete again.

Somewhat complete? I sent this to him! I am so shamed at myself. This is someone that I truly cared for and this is how I talked to him. Even if it was after a lot of pain, that is still no excuse. If CL thought I was venomous he should see how I talked to my ex’s! Maybe I should e-mail this to him. (Joking, of course)

His final response:

THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT. I'M GLAD YOU FOUND HAPPINESS BECAUSE YOU ARE A GOOD PERSON! I WISH YOU AND YOURS THE BEST! MAYBE I WILL BE A BETTER PERSON IN MY NEXT LIFE...HAHAHA JUST JOKING I STILL HAVE TIME. BYE : }

I am the devil and I am pretty sure there is a furnace in hell with my name on it. This was almost 3 years ago. I have seen Sam twice since this correspondence; once at a funeral for an old co-worker/mutual friend and then at my girls wedding a few months back; I blogged about our run-in here. Now I feel guilty and like I should reach out. I would hate to think that is how he thinks I feel about him. He’s on Facebook. We have many mutual friends still. Should I friend request him? Just e-mail? Leave it alone and live in my guilt? I am really at a loss here but I am not proud of my actions at all. I feel like dealing with my own demons of the past will help me to be a better person in the future. I really don’t like the self-righteous tone that I have with him. Any bloggy advice, folks? I am asking so feel free to let loose on me!