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I had a good day yesterday. Man it's so fuckin nice not to have to work Tuesday afternoons! As I was halfway home, my phone rang. Oh great. Who the fuck could this be at this early hour? It was Johnny. I had completely forgotten about him. He had called last night wanting to know if I'd hang out at some motel and party with him, and that he had shit. "Sorry," I said. "Got to leave for work in 30 minutes." He said he might be calling back after work was over, but truthfully, I pretty much lost this crazy horniness that hit me like a ton of bricks for a couple months. It's weird the stuff I'm finding out about myself. I've been given numerous offers to hook up with various guys, and I just don't seem to want to do it. Perhaps I'm sure whoever I hook up with will only be a disappointment, and often times with someone I really don't know that is the case.

So, I did about 5 shots, kicked back, enjoyed myself, didn't go anywhere or do anything. I think what I love the most about drugs is that while on them, I'm constantly entertained. I can stay holed up in a single room for days with nothing but the PC or the radio for amusement. That's because most of my entertainment is showing me it's own vids in my head. It's weird how that happens, but it's true. I got 10 million phone calls it seemed like yesterday, but didn't feel like talking to anyone, especially creditors. I haven't run up any new debts, but the probation dept keeps calling. I know it's them because their number is always blocked. I dread having to deal with this shit. I want to get the most out of this vacation for sure. Too bad Erik doesn't live down the street like Aimee and Linda. I thought about going to see them yesterday, but the problem sometimes in doing that, is that I can't just offer Linda a line without Aimee and Don as well. I want to see them though, maybe tonight I will. I'm glad Erik got my card. Hope he was satisfied with the quality of Tina.

My grandfather recently died and we found his journals and essays. This one is about his mother and gives a peek into life in Mla when Lolo was young.

March 24, 2007


Today is the birthday of my mother. She was born in the year 1898, meaning if she were still living, she would be 109 years old. But she died in 1975 at the age of 77. And I have missed her sorely since then. I guess I always will. I don not think I will miss anyone as much as I do my mother this day.

Simeona Calalay was born to Don Juan Calalay and Dona Sixta dela Rosa. He was from Intramuros and she was from San Miguel, Bulacan. Sixta was the second of three daughters and was tall and beatiful, according to Mr. Juan Nhello Reyes, a friend of the family who used to write poems in Spanish. Don Juan was a lieutenant in the Spanish Army with three ribbons or medal decorations. His sword and medals were lost during the Japanese occupation.
In the latter years, the family stayed in a big house on San Marcelino, where the Meralco building stands today. This is where Sixta and Don Juan died. Whatever happened to this property and others reportedly owned by the couple is a mystery.

When they were orphaned, Simeona and her two sisters were taken in by the sister of Sixta, Teodorica Medel. who had a large family of her own. As normally happens, the orphaned sisters had to work around the house and serve their cousins who were all studying, until Simeona and Josefina got married. The youngest, Felicissima remained with the aunt until claimed by Simeona.

My oldest memories of my mother are vivid. Mama took a bath everyday. I remember her in her bata de bano and her sitting and drying her long hair in a white towel and massaging her hair and scalp for what seemed to me an inordinate length of time. Maybe about 15 minutes and then massage her hair tonic of choice, TRICOFERO into her scalp for another 15. Which may perhaps explain why my mother had a healthy and lustrous head of hair without any dandruff and any white hairs until he was in her 60's.

She also went to the wet market (Quinta market on Azcarraga) everyday. In those days, food was cooked for the day.We had a large eight compartment icebox made of wood, lined with some insulating material and then covered with a thin metal sheet. This was cooled by the two large slabs of ice which was delivered daily arrived covered with palay husks and wrapped in a brown jute sack. These were then icepicked by the maid or the houseboy into smaller chunks which were distributed into the eight compartments. The icebox was used mainly for cold water, which was an absolute necessity during the hot humid summer months, and to preserve food which would otherwise spoil in that weather.

Mama would bring me to the market with her at times and we would ride a horsedrawn vehicle called a calesa, For the short 5 or 6 block trip to Quinta market, she would pay the cochero ten centimos.

Mama had her coterie of "suki", a Chinese coined term to denote a regular and special customer which term also applied to the regular supplier or vendor. She had a suki in the fish section. others for the meat section, which had different vendors for pork, chicken and vaca (cow meat).

Mama would pick the freshest of the fish of choice available, really actually breathing specimens. These maybe of course bangus for sinigang or paksiw or fried and the vendors would clean the innards and the hasang and cut the fish according to instructions-- butterfly cut for daings; five piece postas for frying or stomach cut for rellenos. Her favorite or really Papa's favorite fish,were of course, Dagupan or Bonoan bangus, pampanos, sapsap, spada or swordfish, dapa or , lapulapu, dalag or codfish, hito or catfish, banak. Her favorites which her suki would reserve for her, was apahap, something similar to a striped sea bass, without the stripes. These were seasonal or rarely available, therefore commanded a higher price.

Chicken then were sold alive and in wooden cages. After making her choice, the chicken's feet would be tied up and put into a bayong. The maids at home would kill the chicken by slitting their throats. The blood spilled would be collected in a bowl for cooking. The carcass would then be dipped in boiling water, supposedly to make it easier to pluck the feathers off. When properly denuded, it was then cut up, depending on the intended use. Can you imagine anyone doing this today, with all the chicken available whole and cleaned and packaged or cut into parts such as thighs, drumsticks etc.

The ones Mama bought were all range grown, i.e. loose, not caged and fed bagged feed fortified with all sorts of vitamins and antibiotics. They tasted much better, specially since they were cooked in low fire over a long period of time.

Mama ran a tight ship. She made sure that the house was squeaky clean and food was properly cooked and served, laundry was washed and dyed and starched and ironed properly for her family of seven girls and two boys, by a work force before the war of as many as five maids plus a couple of houseboys. Laundry was normally farmed out, counted out and paid for by piece. We did not have that long a clothesline to hang all the school uniforms of the girls, for one thing.

She did find time though to play "panggingue" , a card game similar to rummy with my godmother and some other friends, once or twice a week in the late afternoons, when Papa and the family were away.

During Papa's busiest business season, July to October, Mama would man the front office and attended to "indoor" sales, i.e. of Lapidas for cemetery tombstones. Sales became more brisk as Todos Los Santos neared and I think their quoted prices also increased commensurately, since work would pile up and the workers started to work overtime and weekends too to keep up with the orders.

During this season, I made it a habit of going to the office after class at the Ateneo for Mama would send me across the street to Ang Tibay's Soda Fountain for my merienda of chicken sandwich and chocolate milkshake and did my homework. Then at the end of the day, she would have me count the cash from her voluminous pocket from the day's sales. I would segregate the bills according to denomination, count and write the totals on a sheet of paper which I would turn over to her and she turned over to Papa, I guess. Invariably, she would ask me how much I filched. I would answer, not much. and that was that. I would pocket enough for the next day's expense for then we would eat lunch outside campus at various restuarants in the Ermita area. I remembered that she trusted me not to take too much as this would queer. What was really a very nice deal and maybe treated it as commission due for counting the money. Papa never noticed or cared as he was making a lot more money with the construction side of the business and the office sales were probably considered Mama's bonus.

Mama was the spokesman for all the members of the family and the bridge through which all goodies were coursed. Anything we needed, we went to Mama and she would bring the request over to Papa.

She was an accomplished advocate and would always catch Papa at his most vulnerable and generous mood, normally after a sumptuous dinner of his favorite food and much laughter and stories in after dinner banter. She knew when to tap Papa for her children 's needs and would argue and fight with him even until she got her way. But always for her children, never for herself.

As such, she was always in the middle of the joys and the pain involved in these transactions. Papa, being a man of few words, would express his displeasure and even anger over anything involving the house and mostly the children to Mama and it was up to her to handle the complaint with the erring child. And minister the penalty which sometimes included in my case a severe case of spanking on the behind while she lectured the offending party on the reason for the punishment. In extreme cases, when she noted a less than contrite attitude, she would instruct Liloy, the family's general factotum, to pack the clothes of whoever was prostrate on the floor and to carry him/her off to the "Hospicio de San Jose" an orphanage run by the nuns located on an island in the middle of the Pasig River. The howling becomes louder at this point accompanied by all sorts of promises and oaths of repentance, contrition and changes etc. etc., Which was all grand drama, of course, because to my knowledge, not a single case of eviction to the Hospicio ever happened. I can imagine how she would regale my father with the story with chuckles and laughter about who cried and shouted the loudest among the culprits spread out on the floor.

I've just been out to let my dog pee and ended up full on gardening late at night. I love the soil and looking up to the moon.

Even the karaoke outside my house singing "Careless Whisper".

It's a good day to be alive and to start this blog again.

don't have the time for tears

It’s just a little bit colder without you
My nights are a little more restless
My days are groggy and sore

I miss the warmth you once brought
But it’s just not the same without you
Swimming through my veins

I think about you everyday
Sometimes you even come up in conversation
But that don’t cure the sickness I feel for you

I need you here
I need you now
A life without you

Isn’t a life at all

Hello everyone!

I've really been slacking on this lately, but I think that it's time that we give this Blog monthly Theme another try. So here are my thoughts on how it could be done:

• Suggestions for themes can come from anyone, either via a PM to me or as a response to this entry (I'll be subscribed so that it new suggestions will get to me even if the post is buried)
• Either toward the end of the month prior, or at the beginning of the current month, a theme will be chosen by vote (as counted by replies in a dedicated post)
• The theme will then be used as a 'talking point' during the month

If this method sounds all right to everyone, what say we open the floor to topic suggestions until, say, 9:00 Monday evening (GMT-7, or 4:00 AM GMT), then I'll make a post with the suggestions and people can reply with their vote? Keep voting open until 9:00 Wednesday evening, when the winner will be announced, and we can start with the topic on the 2nd.

Depending on the number of suggestions, maybe a selected list will be presented for voting for each month rather than the complete list, and as the topics are used up more will be added from the bank of suggestions. Or should it be done more like the SO photo contest, where open suggestions are taken, and they're just cycled through? Perhaps a month is too long, and a weekly or bi-weekly theme would work better?

Any thoughts? Suggestions? Gripes? Let's see if we can make this work! Assuming of course if anyone actually wants to

Who is this man who follows me?
This blue-eyed boy who wants to be
This worthy cause of humankind
This pawn set up by time

Like a bright light on the horizon
Shining so bright

He'll get you flying
He'll get you flying
He'll get you flying
He'll get you flying

This open book yet to be read
This second look
This leper head

The hope I held inside
With you was kept alive

Like a bright light on the horizon
Shining so bright
He'll get you flying
Drive you awake
Drive you insane

He'll get you flying flying flying
We're here to stay
We're here to stay
We're here to stay

CHAD
3,4-dimethylamphetamine

TROY
3,4-dimethylmethamphetamine

MICHELLE
3,4-dimethylethamphetamine

The first is not new, and they are less toxic than the corresponding plain amphetamines.

Bon apetit!

Today I sit at home. Missing, MISSING it like HELL. Missin it like damn, I cant go back. Not like I cant go back cuz it wont be the same. I cant go back becuz there is a legal order against me steppin foot on their grounds. Damn.

I just want one more time. One more chance.

And today a letter came in the mail. The full case file from my old school about why I got expelled.

And there, on a complaint sheet of paper -

In Miss Lisas handwriting -

I want to break into tears, I want to kick her and punch her and pull our her weave.

"She came to me and said she had been shootin up. "Shootin up" not shooting. Only miss lisa woulda wrote shootin'.

She came to me and said she had been shootin up in the bathroom and missed the shot and her arm was in bad shape. She said she was worried and didnt know wat to do. I told her she should get it looked at.

Miss lisa, Why you did that to me?

How you could do that to me?

After all the private conversations about your boyfriends, and the teachers on your ass saying you dont do enough work, you too personal with the students? And me and my girls always defending you, saying you a GREAT teacher, we love you, and you teach just fine?

I thought I could trust you miss lisa. I really did.

The whole time after i got kicked out you acted like you thought it was fucked up, i talked to you a few times on the phone, and you seemed sad it had to happen that way.

You went right to them. you went right to them and you threw me to the fuckin lions. I knew those old administrator bitches minds wasnt that sharp, that they wasnt on no detective shit, that they couldnt piece together everything without something solid.

And you gave them the solid piece that fit in to the rest of the alleged puzzle and made the whole thing real.

Why did you do it?

I want to cry but Im over shedding tears. Just thinking how this coulda been different, how I coulda just took medical leave and handled shit, came back clean and on probationary terms but back, to my girls, to Debbie the Mannequin and her cold blind blue eyes colored black by my marker, arched eyebrows and black lip liner to match me.

Back to spanish rice and massage class, back to everybody knowing my name. Back to the sun in my eyes, that warm october like the second coming of summer.

Kicked out of class sitting in the projects with the sun on my face, nothing out of place, knowing it was only a temporary time before I would be back, back before you know it, back on track, not steppin on the crack this time.

Back to the beginning, if i had paid more attention, been more discreet, not let my addiction tell me it was fine and nobody noticed me in the bathoom ten minutes at a time.

I loved that school. I miss it. Yea I miss it and I wish i could go back. A year gone by, and i am exactly where I started. It hurts me, not my heart, not my mind, but somewhere down, down, down dark where shame lives, where regret lives, the feelings thatll pull you apart if you dont push them down and keep a weight sitting on top of the lid to that hole.

Today I seen the papers. Read the report of my own personal Judas. And my feelings sit on the horizon like a fat black line simmering over the things I should be seeing in front of me. I never trusted nobody, why did i trust her? cuz I felt bad for her? cuz i thought I had the upper hand, and she wouldnt go back on me just like I wouldnt tell the bosses that she spent entire class periods as Oprah sessions, devoted to asking us wat she should do about her now ex boyfriend?

but fuck her and her betrayal, Becuz I want to see it like it was before all that, before the truth hit my future like a mack truck at 90 mph. Its like a funeral for my education, the one shot I had at getting somewhere, killed when the bud was barely beginning to open and bloom. Carelessly stomped on as the shoes walk away, not even realizing wat they done.

So I think about my memories and good times, never thinking they would get tore away from me suddenly and unexpectedly like a scrap of paper out of your hand with your long lost best friends phone number in a tornado. Somethin lost that can never be found.

I tuck it away in my memories, folded and slipped into the cells of my brain, trying not to think about it. I dont want to wear them out, dim them, make them fuzzy and unsure. I want it all clear in my mind like it was yesterday, part of the opposite world, the parallel world, that world of another place and time where things worked out different. The world where every what if is a reality, and it dont follow the rules of real life, the real life that rips and tears and shreds up things that are happy and true, and reduces them to bitter cynicism and cold hearts. The place where it follows the way of your hearts secret desires. That seperate life you create for yourself where all your dreams come tru, and everything that could have been plays out like a perfect movie behind your eyelids while you sleep.

That life exists, miniature and frozen in time, inside a snowglobe inside my mind. real people , places and things, reduced to memories, tiny dolls arranged in the ways that the future could have been. Never moving, always there for me to look at and never forget. I made them mine to hold onto eternally. Trapped under glass as the snow of time quietly slowly falls and burys them.




Here is me in the bathroom after a shot. I will live in that picture in my dreams, years from now I will still wish.

Charlotte's Web by E.B. White

yes, you're older now, and you're a clever swine, but they were the only ones who ever stood by you

&

he said, "return the ring"
he knows so much about these things
he knows so much about these things
he knows so much about these things

I should have got an ugly flat mate as I seriously want to fuck him senseless.

But I wont even try. Hes too good a person and flat mate to risk that and I doubt I would feel better if I did.

Besides, I am more wanting to cuddle up to someone I love instead of sex with a cute friend.

Isn't it funny how what we fear most will often appear in our lives? One of my biggest fears is being Rejected.

I went to a work mate's party yesterday. There's a new chef at work, gorgeous Brazilian guy that I've had my eyes on for long. I never hit on guys unless I'm pretty sure that I won't get no for an answer. I told one of my close friends at work that I liked him, and they had a conversation about me a few weeks ago. I can't remember exactly what he said, but the general impression she got was that he thought I was hot. He was at the party, and I caught him looking at me a few times. A few drinks later, I started hitting on him. He was reluctant, so I got more obvious. Practically stuck my tongue in his mouth, but in a (slightly) more classy way.

And he rejected me! I was like To make it worse, it seemed he wanted two other girls at the party - one of whom I've had sex with in the past - let's call her K. I got so upset that I decided to completely cockblock him and started flirting with K. I ended up sleeping with her, but I'll get to that point later. In the end, he went home, which I was glad for.

The thing is, I know everyone deals with rejection at some point. Men especially, I think of some men that I've rejected without a second thought, and they don't go all suicidal about it (as far as I know). It makes me feel like a spoiled brat to get all upset just because one guy said no to me, but I honestly am not used to this feeling!!! It's not like I've never been rejected romantically - i've dealt with it many times, especially lately, but I've never had a guy say no to my sexual advances. It really shocked me!

I know I sound ridiculously spoiled, but keep in mind that having had pretty low self-esteem most of my life, rejection *terrifies* me, and I will usually never hit on a guy unless there's a 95% chance he'll say yes.

Anyway, I'm sort of over it emotionally, i'm just amused about my reactions to it, in a purely intellectual way. (I'm also pretty impressed by myself that Im not beating myself up about it, shows me how far I've come with my self esteem)

So we ended up going to my Portugese friend's house in zone 4 in West London (it was her birthday party). Got pretty drunk, and K was pissed as well. She's a French girl I used to work with, crazy party girl that always gets drunk and slutty (just how I like my women, an extra bonus if they look really innocent as well). A couple of years ago when I was really coked up I asked her if she was bisexual, and told her to let me know if she ever wanted to try a woman out. She said no, but then in January we got really drunk together at a staff party, she kissed me and then when we went to the toilet together to have a line, she practically raped me! Ended up having sex in the toilets the whole night, which was the Hot Gossip of the week at work.

So we ended up having sex again, which was pretty fun. One of my other ex-workmates kept trying to barge into the room and take pictures though - he's really lovely usually, so that was a bit shocking. K and I were in a bunk bed on the bottom, and another guy went to sleep on the top bunk, we were still having sex, and I strictly told him not to listen (yeah right), but he told me this morning that he could see us the whole time, and he said "you're pretty kinky aren't you?".

I only got home a little while ago. We all slept over a the house, got up early in the morning and had beers in the garden, sitting in the sunshine. It was nice

Writing all of this was a mission... I feel pretty incoherent and braindead... thank God I don't have to be social today, couldn't carry a conversation for the life of me. Gonna get stoned and watch Carnivale...

I love the guy.

http://thefreemanperspective.blogspot.com

http://freemantv.com

He has a couple of radio shows, archives are available. He'll make you think, even if you don't believe what he says.

In other news, I got a great deal on a jack and some stands. Good investment.

I was reading about this book today on wikipedia, and it's quite an interesting read.

(paraphrase) But what are we but crosses between ghosts and plants, and have we been not commanded to overcome this condition?

Same as it ever was?

Not worth a good god damn lately... at least not where I spend my time around here.

*remembers fondly the days of Bel modding CE&P*

Holy shit, I'm even reminiscing about the days when Matt was moderating! It's worse than I thought!

dont have to tell you I love your precious heart

Overall it was a shitty night of sleep. My eyes were dilated like crazy; I could tell I was in full withdrawal…thank god I took the suboxone. I felt minor pains because my habit was getting up there again. I should have taken more but I knew I might slam dope real soon and didn’t want to have the subs be in my system when I do it.

Getting up was fairly easy other than the fact I was tired from tossing and turning all night. My grandparents left shortly after I was up to go shopping so I went to clean up my "table" (which had a bunch of paraphernalia on it) in the room downstairs where I bang my dope. While cleaning I found cotton with a lot of residue on it and was able to get a tiny shot. When I did it I noticed some pain as I felt the needle break my skin…It was a sign I need a new one.

At about two it started getting nasty over here, dark ass clouds, wind, and rain started coming down hard. I was worried that the storm might keep my connections indoors but I kept my fingers crossed. I needed…well wanted to score this dope. I called about six to see what the plan was going to be tonight and to my surprise I found out that my homies had an early start today and would be able to cop for me sooner than the usual time. I headed downtown and met up with them at a Quiznos. We spent at least a half hour waiting around for the dope man, if not longer. When my homie got back with the shit he gave me two new rigs too! Score! We immediately went to King Soopers to fix. I was hesitant that the suboxone might still be in my system but I got high and still am so obviously I waited long enough.

After we finished there I dropped them off so I could go home. I just walked in the door and the family is still out which is a relief. I think I’ll take advantage of the moment and go smoke a bowl outside before anyone does get here. Then I’ll start calling around to see what everyone is up to tonight. I’d like to kick with someone but with my luck I will most likely end up home again with nothing to do.

The last few days since mum left have been really good. I've felt more useful at work, the stress of the current project is beginning to recede and I've been eating better and sleeping well.

This evening, a Friday, I left work in a state. Anxious, slightly annoyed ... impotent at feelings I can't fully resolve. In that state I fully intended to go home and get fucked up but surprisingly was able to talk myself out of it, to a lesser drug and then - after getting some groceries - decided I didn't want to take anything at all. This is the struggle I have faced almost ever Friday for a long time now and this evening was the first time I can remember that things didn't turn out the way I expected.

Walking out of the city I told myself, "anything can be a trigger if I want an excuse to get wasted". Instead of looking for excuses to do something, I found that by just doing what I needed to do, I came to the natural conclusion that I would be better off just going without.

This is actually a pretty monumental step for me and I shouldn't dismiss it's relevance in the grand scheme of things.

Taking a step back and looking at the big picture is always depressing.

It means acknowledging the collosal amount of damage I have been able to wreak in under two years out of control and in surveying that landscape, it's hard to face how much ground I have lost, and how hard I will need to work to "repair" my life.

This isn't just a case of taking a few steps back, it's more akin to free falling and hitting every branch and jutting rock on the way down. In terms of material standing, not to even begin speaking of other more important things, it will take me at least two years to claw my way back to where I was before all the troubles started.

The other, less visible, but even deeper scars I will bear for decades if not the rest of my life. Just in writing this entry I can see the folly that I have undertaken so many times before of seeing an "end" to these problems when it will always be an ongoing battle.

I doubt that every Friday night I will find it as easy to pacify the voices of recklessness that lurk ever-present; calling me to the endless comfort of the night, into the arms of a city that never sleeps. And even if I do, there are always other ways I will find to threaten this peace.

But for tonight, just this night... I ate Japanese, I watched daggy TV shows in my trackies and I sure as hell am not getting laid. It's hard to explain why this is a step forward, a tiny slither of hope when so many others would see it as a sign of failure.

I apologise for the lack of tuna elaboration at this point, blog writing is still new to me.

and when they've bought you, and they've sold you, and they've wasted all your money, and they've made your parents cry, I will be there, oh believe me, I will be there

today was a major challenge. i have been in my new job for three weeks now and everything is going fine; minus one relationship with a colleague. im not the type of person that strives to be liked by everyone in social situations nor expects that; if anything i give myself a 20/80 ratio. if i can make two solid connections within my workplace (and the remainder being solely work-etiquette based), im very content; but sadly the one relationship i am struggling with the most is the one between myself and my manager (not the head boss). my first week on board the team we got on like a house on fire; but as soon as the head boss and myself began forming a strong bond and i was being praised for my work; the manager and i have not gotten along. she is used to ruling the roost and being solid with the head boss; and our co-workers being directed by them.

im a very self managed woman; who gives respect to authority, but doesnt need direction; moreso sees that something needs addressing/doing and will do it. this doesnt sit well with my manager at all. she loves having young graduates under her wing and them begging for her guidance. sadly i dont fall into that catagory; we are the same age.

she pulled me aside for the third time since being employed within the company to come down on me about procedure and personal issues. i listened as best as i could, although with it being the third time id been pulled up unnecessarily; i bit my tongue and waited for a moment where i could pull her aside personally and address it. her response spoke in volumes; and i hate that she feels threatened by me; as i wouldnt wish her job upon myself; let alone my worst enemy; but had to stand my ground all the same. i tried addressing her issues with compassion to have it only fuel the fire further and send her into an irrational rage.

it was then that i approached my boss to accept accountability for my behaviour and to also discuss hers. the senior boss appreciated that id tried addressing the issue first; and was honest enough to let me know that my manager has bought up several issues of unimportance relating to me (personal gripes; some as minor as me wearing my hair down and straightening it); to her. she reassured me that im doing a fantastic job and is just what the company needs; and adores my presence within the team. i wasnt looking for praise; moreso answers; so left her office feeling shittier than ever.

i dont want to be liked by my manager; but we do have to get along somewhat; and it seems that no matter to what proportions i adjust my attitude; she is not willing to budge on hers. i get that she doesnt like me; so fucking what? she doesnt have to; were colleagues, not friends. i just want to know when the shitstorm is going to be over so that i can comfortably get on with my job and not feel 50 knives in my back.

i hate these sorts of situations; and would just love to see resolution. i tried many times today to offer an olive branch to have it thrown back at me and shat on. hopefully time will heal this wound. god knows im trying my damnest for peace.

I haven't been on in forever, for many reasons. went to ohio, was admitted to hospital for 5 days. my sister-in-law still has my computer, hopefully I'll get that back soon.

sarah and joe ((my brother and sis in law) went crazy. I tried to leave their house, and they flipped out on me, and tried to take away my kids. they stole $2000 from my bank acct, and they've harrassed me. charges have been filed. and im filing a restraining order this week. so much drama, I feel like im on jerry springer.

ill be back on more by this weekend ((when I get my computer back)

and hello to my new adoptivee, krazieandie!!!!!