The Cracks in the Crystal Ball

It really has been a long time since I've blogged as usual, but my life has been so clouded with drama that I was unable to even see myself let alone have an opinion or epiphany about anything. Today was such a weird day. It started out terrible with a nightmare about multiple types of abuse; morphed into an exciting change on my path to financial freedom; went sour again because someone I care about ended up in the ER; climbed that peak when I was surrounded by good, supportive friends and family including Stinkyface; and then ended exactly the way I thought it would when I awoke startled and scared in the early morning...back down in the dumps. This rediculous roller-coaster that had nothing more to do with me than just me being in the physical vicinity of the drama. Why doesn't that happen to everyone?? Why can I stand in a line twenty-five people deep in the grocery store, and be the ONLY one affected by this stalking drama. Everyone else is in the physical proximity. But fortunately, this disturbing, messed up type of day is just the kind of day where, if taken as an opportunity, can turn mole-hills into mountains.

I was touched today. I personally admire dancing as poetry, and was able to see through all the ups and downs that cloud my head on a daily basis, and a dance really inspired me. As "pop"-y as it is, So You Think You Can Dance undeniably has emotion-arousing art on it. A dance I've seen over and over again finally did its job and got me. It is a dance representing a woman's fight with breast cancer, and I've cried before like I did tonight. I thought of the loved ones I lost to cancer the same way tonight as I did in the past. I felt sorry for myself for my loss, for my missed chances, for everything I wish I was able to make right that I can't do a single thing about. I did all of this before and tonight again. But the one thing I did differently tonight was see my future.

That's what I do. I live in the present first. Then I live in the past. I rarely think of my future during my day to day. I finally previewed my future. And at the same time I saw the futures of the women I love that will not see their futures due to cancer. They are the same. My grandma. My mom. My sister. Just to name a few. Smart, beautiful, capable women. So happy when they were happy. Not given all the time they needed to accomplish what they would have. All because of cancer. And I'm sorry for what I didn't get to share with them. This dance didn't stop there. Who's wanting to share with me?? Who's wanting to spend more time with me?? Who will feel this way when I'm passed??

I've been so selfish. I've spoken advice. I've been the voice of reason, of motivation, of the right. And what have I been living?? I've ignored it all and walked in every mis-step as these strong women. Who am I to do the same thing to people who truly care about me?? Why would I waste my precious time dealing with these roller-coaster days more days a week than not when I could be happy with the people I love?? In missing these women, I forget to bask in all the great things they've taught me. They've showed me over and over again what choices to make and how to live. They became brave in their beautiful mistakes. And yet its "Oh, poor me." No more. If life is as short as I've seen it be, I absolutely will live up to it. Yes, not live it up, but live up to it! I love you Grandma. I love you mom. I love you Deb. You have all shared in teaching me and so many other women how to be strong. How to be independent. How to be happy. And you will be proud! Not only of me, but also of Stinkyface. And Chickien Poc's stinkies. Because I will be an example. Not only by my mistakes, but also by my successes. I've come leaps and bounds, but revisiting my past blogs also shows how much I've stayed the same. No more. I will make a difference. I will be happy. My life continues today.

Mr. Ed Would Turn In His Grave

I think its funny how we go from a world so consumed with terrorism and child kidnapping and the rising cost of gas on the upwards of five dollars, to a new president and all that seems to be consuming us Americans now is medical animal testing. I've heard on two separate news productions today about the contreversy of bunnies and mousies and other cuddley creatures that, by the way, aren't cuddled all that much by these people screaming, being used to find the way to save a HUMAN life from cancer. Now, I know about PETA, and I'm with them. Animals should not die to be a coat, bag, shoes, or hat. Absolutely not!! I also think rabbits shouldn't have shampoo poured in their eyeballs to see what kind of reaction someone will have washing their hair in the shower. If it sounds harmful, and we don't immediately know that its not poison, I think it shouldn't be in our products!!
I know what all two of my readers are thinking....oh no. Not Arbonne. I'm not writing a commercial. Very contrary actually. This is political for me. But as much as I think the Easter Bunny shouldn't be forced to lather in Pantene, I also think animals shouldn't be part of our products. Read the ingredients to your vitamins. You know what they use to mold your One a Days??? Cow intestines. The inner ear of Mr. Ed. Tendons of Babe. Otherwise known as gelatin. That's disgusting. And not only is it in OUR vitamins, but check your gummy bear vitabites for the stinkys. Yep, one of the first 5 ingredients. If you're okay with that because you think, "cheeseburger....gelatin...what's the difference??" then take a big bite of large intestine between two buns and a piece of cheese. Make sure to have a lot of ketchup on hand for the yummy taste you will most definitely have to mask. That's not where it starts or ends. Mascara=bat feces. Soap=lipo fat+roadkill. If you don't believe me, google it. Hell, watch the Fight Club. All I'm saying is if you love your pet, stop using them to pretend your prettier than you are!!
Now on to a different prominent point. There is a difference between lotion and the cure to cancer. I'm willing to donate my cats if I know that with that help my mom/sister/grandma would be alive and 100% healthy today. And I really love my cats. But they're cats people. They are not humans. If I let my cats out, they wouldn't find their own food. They'd starve. They wouldn't get a job and function in society because, basically, THEY'RE CATS. They aren't people. People dominate. People are more important naturally. I would not allow a guy in a lab coat to test a new spa soak on Miss Universe. There's a difference between life and death and lazy or put together. So all the freaks that put animals on the same life scale or even higher than human beings are just that..freaks.
And that leads to the last point. How do we make sure that animals aren't being shampooed and are instead, living normal PET lives or being useful in finding cures to diseases?? We would have to put that in the hands of the leader of our country. But all I've heard is the changes to credit card application mailers. Changes to how we treat the assholes who blew up all of our loved ones and heros in NY on 9/11/01. And I voted for this president. I wanted...want reform. But I wonder exactly whats going on when the main topic on news programs is animal testing. Who freakin cares about the Capital One applications we get 12 times a week in the mail?? We all know they're rediculously expensive once you calculate the interest. You either care and throw them away, or don't and fill them out. Its really becoming apparent how political everything is. Everything was TERRIBLE when W was in charge. Not only was it because he became a kook and just failed to make any educated desicions towards the end, but because of just that. It was the end. He couldn't have been president again if he drugged all the voters. Just not legal. Therefore, we see how terrible our society really is at the end of a bad presidency. Teachers seducing children. Mass murders. Terrorism. Even our pocketbooks depleting. What's changed now that we have our first black president?? Umm.......Nothing!! We're even further in debt. There's still terrorism but for some reason, we have to treat them better than our bunny friends. There are still people dying left and right from something we can reform. I really had hope in Obama, but he better step up. I don't want to have to worry about how animals are being treated anymore. Leave them alone unless they can give you the cure to whats incurable now. And lets start making solutions.

Rainbow Roll

While it's been much too long since I've blogged, and I've now internalized all the crap that pisses me off daily instead of letting it go through this healthy outlet, I thought I would take just a moment at this rediculously late hour of the day to post a little note.

2009-
A new year. A new president. A new start. This is the perfect time to start a diet, then quickly end it. Maybe change careers in this struggling economy. Ditch the coffee and cigarettes. Reestablish your faultering relationship with Christ. None of that threatens me. Change is opportunity. Change is growth. Change is necessary. So why is it that after the big push, the straw that breaks the camel's back, the line that was crossed, is it so easy to fall back into the same ol' routine?? No matter how defacing or repellant it may be?? What makes the damaging so comfortable?? And it could be anything. Pick your poison. Maybe you're a generally negative person. Maybe you're overly critical. Maybe you're an alcoholic. Maybe you're the person who always chooses relationships with abusive people. Maybe you're a shopaholic. It doesn't matter. Because you know there's that something about you that holds you back from pure bliss. There's that something about you you secretly wish you could change daily, but just forget about it until it hurts again. And that's what makes January such a comical, sell-out month. People set goals, knowing full well that they won't stick to them, because the first is just like every other day we think "I will not let this be this way anymore!!" "I will be the best I can be."

I'm not only a member, but lately have realized I'm practically the president of this club. I can go through serious conflict, and through trial and error, actually learn a positive and healing way to process and accept change. Then, when I'm not practising these skills daily anymore because I'm (gasp) happy, I get hit with a low blow and spiral down the abyss of negativity. And I'm like a newborn. I don't know what to do to make the situation better. All the trial and error begins again. Even though, and this is just my perspective, I know what to do from the start. We all do. It's just too hard. But why should this positive change be so hard?? That's what I don't understand. Yeah maybe 3 months of awkwardness, sadness, struggle. But then there's that glimmer of light and you feel like, "why the hell did it take so long to do this?? This is so much better!!" Instead of day after day of despising yourself for the lack of balls to commit.

Needless to say, for the sake of sticking to my word about making this just a note, I think I've finally committed to my change again. It feels scary because its real. It's not fluffy and sweet and cute. Instead, its raw. It's grainy...hmm, it's kinda like sushi, which in my opinion is freakin awesome. So this is my challenge not only to myself, but to everyone who graciously reads my blogs. Take that leap. Commit. Pick one thing and just focus. Don't let anyone get you off track. You know what to do, and if you don't, change it up. Through change, you will find what will work. You may find a couple non-functioning methods on the way, but at least you're committed to figuring out how to finally be truly happy. Make everyday January 1st. (Or the 20th if your ecstatic like me!!!) Good Luck!

TMZ...Another Important Broadcast

While I sit here contemplating whether to nap or blog, I'm unable to free my mind of the image of the little boy from London allowed to receive innumerable beatings from his mother and her boyfriend, until his unfortunate death. This hasn't been talked about here in the States much, but I've done extensive research on it, and I'm honestly haunted. How does anybody harm a child??

This baby was only 17 months old, and had already internalized the abuse of a lifetime. His entire life was filled with punching, choking, kicking, biting, scratching...and it was all inflicted on him. A sadistic sorry excuse for a human being and her live-in again, disgusting peice of worthlessness called a boyfriend, and, (get this) HIS brother all took turns wailing on this child like some raggdoll given to them as a stress reliever. This poor baby's fingertips were cut off. He had 8 broken ribs. Knocked out teeth were found in his own colon. His bruises were covered pourposefully by chocolate. Severe lacerations to his face and head. A broken back. And all of this being said, it was not enough for the police or government to remove this child permanently from this household. A household where human feces was painted on the walls. Where dogs roamed free to piss on any baby bottle or toy they so pleased. Where a 17 month old baby's mother laughed at her boyfriend breaking her own child's back. Where cigarettes were more important than a young life. What the hell is wrong with London???

With Social Services and doctors involved, this child chould have been saved. Instead, he was pawned off to a "family friend" for a month until the baby's mother was released from one of her many stays in jail and then returned to his living hell. This brings me to my own country's retardation. We are spending billions and billions of dollars to bully another country into maintaining our condescending excuse for Democracy, who clearly don't want to adopt western ideals and are happy with the way their day-to-day is, and yet we sit back and ignore an obviously skewed take on American Social Services in our sister country. I don't get it. I don't understand why I turn on the news and watch yet another suicide bomber kill my brothers and sisters and never get the chance to learn about poor Baby Peter who is tortured by those who are suposed to protect him. It seems like it would be less expensive and more productive to spend our time and resources educating a country that is willing to listen to us about Child Protective Services and Social Services. It may help one of the four children killed in Brittain a day by abuse. It just might save some precious baby's life, who just may pay it forward, and before we know it, society may actually become scrupoulous again. We might actually have morals and boundaries. We might teach our little girls that they are worth more than the stripper poles they see in every rich teenage girl's bedroom on MTV. We might teach our little boys that they need to respect women and not just dine, do and ditch 'em like we see on practically every scripted television program. This tragic story of Baby P is just a branch on a huge tree of disarray and lack of moral foundation we call "Today's Generation."

I don't know what happened to values, but they just aren't being taught anymore. Now, it's cool for parents to drink and smoke pot with their tweens and teens. At least they're cool right?? And that's definitely all that matters. And then when drunk and wasted little Tracey has sex with the high, sad Joe Dirt wannabe neighbor Steve in good ol' White Trashville, USA and ends up giving birth to unassuming Peter Connolly, all the party sesh's with mommy and daddy really pay off. Tracey and Steven play War Sargeant and use all the cool fighting tactics they can only imagine are used in the fancy war games the kids in L.A. play on their PS2, as they take a toke from the bong and laugh like it wasn't real life. This is what's happening. This is real life. This is why I so never wanted to bring a child into this world, and now I have to do everything I can to teach Stinkyface that no matter how lame her peers will tell her I and my rules are, that she should maintain her morals and values. Why doesn't everybody feel the desperation of the situation?? Why isn't this front page news all the time everywhere?? Why aren't their shows about it on when TMZ is on?? Kids don't get it by themselves. Are we really going to sit back and allow fat losers to murder babies?? Is this really okay??

As a recap to the original story, everyone was cleared of murder somehow. They have been convicted with causing or allowing a baby's death, which carries a maximum sentence of 14 years. 14 years. You could practically get the same sentence if you don't pay your taxes for 17 months. No murder. And from what I've learned, its not a matter of London not being strict with their laws, but in fact being too strict to the point the people in charge are streched too thin to be progressive. Whatever the reason, something has to change. I strongly urge everyone to get involved. I truly believe in the trickle down theory. A little help will trickle down to everyone eventually. Please make your life more worth it and help a child!!

Communists Are People Too

I am so apalled, yet not surprised by the ignorance of the American people. When did a Democracy turn into a race war?? When did it become okay for anyone to take anybody else's Constitutional rights away?? As much as these ignoramus' talk big, over 60 percent of the votes for Obama came from white people, including myself. But what everyone doesn't know is that 2 generations up in my family were repressed because they were Native American. Not half. Not three quarters, but full blooded. And they were fighting for their rights to remain in their own land. Amazing. That's because white is right. Which, in turn, leads into white men being the only one's with any worthy opinions.



I've been reading many blogs and comments on all the political turns that came about as of the Fourth of this month. There are so many people going on and on about why California's Prop 8 should have had the outcome it eventually did have. And are you freaking kidding me????!!!! For one thing, if you are going to make a clearly blind, uneducated statement, at least spell your comments right. If you can't spell a four letter word correctly, you really shouldn't be allowed to vote. Secondly, at this point, if we are at will to decide who is allowed to have Constitutional rights, why do women work?? Why do women vote?? Why do women talk when they weren't spoken to?? A woman's place is in the kitchen and the bedroom. So please lets stick to what worked for so long. Change is overrated.



And as for a Black president....who'da thunk it?? Not too long ago, blacks were fighting for equal rights. Not straight blacks. Not gay blacks. Not transsexual blacks. No one even saw past the BLACK part. And now there is a black guy running this super power we call America. Shouldn't it take 3 black men to make up one white president?? NO. Because like a very intelligent man once said: "I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.'" Equal. What a baffling concept. You mean to tell me because my skin is light and I have blonde hair and blue eyes that I'm not any better than those guys?? You mean because I don't have a weiner, I'm no less obligated to my God given rights as anyone else?? Fooey!!



And now, since 50+ years have gone by and us ignorant white folks have gotten more and more comfortable allowing blacks (and other minorities) and women in our personal space, now we have to dig deeper. Now, to hell with the gays. Men, women, black, white. If you're gay you aren't worthy of the rights of us equals, ya hear me?! Because I wouldn't choose to do what you choose to do with your personal life, then you are banished!! Oh and by the way, if you're gay, you shouldn't be voting either. Or making the same salary as us straighties. And actually, you really should not be integrated with the rest of society because what if you start telling people things about being gay?? The someone might catch "Gaybella" and then there will be an outbreak, and then we'll just have to accept the Apocolypse has risen. And we all know God loves me more than you cuz I'm straight!! The alcohol, the occasional sex-out-of-wedlock, that's nothing...CUZ I'M STRAIGHT!! OOOOHAHAHAHAHA



So here's the tall and short of it all. I have no gay friends (that I know of). Family, no. I worked with a lesbian once, but even though it was blatantly obvious, she wasn't out because of fear she would be harrassed or not accepted. (I don't know for sure, but I figure that's the only reason gays don't come out.) I have no vested interest in homosexuals. And, I believe in God. But I also believe that you can't just pass out rights to whoever you think is worthy and take rights away from those that aren't. Who are you anyways?? God?? All these people talk about how God wanted it and what God stands for, and then they act and think they are as good as Him?? Uh-huh. Last time I checked, that is not the "Christian" way. If there wasn't change there wouldn't be progress. I have the right to vote, to free-speech, to have my own religion, to drink wine all because someone who didn't have these rights before made an impact on someone who did. If these "high-and-mighty" Christians "allow" other religions to be practised in the US, than why is choosing to have a sexual relationship with the same sex so wrong?? I'm not posting this to change anyone because the Good Lord knows even though I'm smart and work out, I can't make anybody be anything other than them. (I've failed miserably enough times!!) But please, practice what rights you've got still, because who knows when they'll be taken away.

The Next Step's a Doosie

Scoff if you want to/need to/have Tourette's; I love Dr. Laura. I listen to her on the radio as often as I possibly can. I own EVERY book she's published, financing, I'm sure, her frequent vacations to India and such. Mostly, people tell me how annoying she is, what a bitch, how insensitive she is when I introduce her name along with her ideals. And an hour later, I can explain only her words of wisdom deleting her name from my vocab and all of a sudden, it makes sense to every one. I too, used to think Dr. Laura was a bitchy primate. And, needless to say, A MAN changed my mind on the matter. Now if you feel like you are completely in control of every second/feeling/season of your life and you don't need one person in order to maintain hapiness, don't read this. That's bull and you're not ready to cop to your responsibilities. And I don't care. You'll get where you need to go when you need to get there. Me...I'm ready to admit when I'm wrong, love when its rough, and open enough to hear when I'm mixing the two.

As I plunge farther into Bad Childhood Good Life, almost every word hits me like a backhand from Chuck Lidell. She writes about the ten qualities that make it possible to liberate yourself from victimhood. I read through the first, then the second...yes, taking responsibility and enduring is liberating. That actually sounds a lot like my MO when I act as practicing therapist in my world. Then, for some reason, the third quality: Acceptance, hits a nerve. This isn't only the acceptance that in my life, I've been a victim, but also the acceptance that those I seemingly frustrate and depress myself over trying to heal their pathetic existence will not change because of me. As I began this blog, I wanted so desperately to write on two separate topics and couldn't for the life of me figure out how to corelate the two, but as I let my heart empty, they've meshed easily in my opinion.

In order to drown out the puke-inducing sounds of TMZ from the television, I popped in my iPod earphones hoping that I would still be able to read with the tenacity Dr. Laura would want. As I scrolled through the artists trying to find the most mellow, least needy beats, I find Jack Johnson as usual. While reading about the freeingness of Acceptance, Banana Pancakes played in my ear. If you haven't heard the song, it's about being so in love that you call in sick. You get out of bed when you feel like it. You don't answer the phone because you're so fulfilled with your love. You spend the whole day in love. Whether it be experience, movies, stories, I know that feeling. I know it for real. I think about it often. Its good. Then, the rest of reality sets in. The negative that makes it impossible for that day to last and happen everyday fills my head. In my situation, addiction is what ended that day. And as I think back, my dad was an addict. My brother was an addict. My sister was an addict. And the rest addicts in their own right. I have not Accepted, the way I need to, the situations I'm involved with with these people. Justifyingly, I've surrounded myself with others like my father/brother/sister/insert name here, and after being hurt, haven't yet reached Acceptance.

I do desperately yearn for the love Jack sings about, and I do know it. But I think the magic word here isn't love, but unfortunately desperately. As I get older, I endure more than I would have when I was younger. And yet many of my fond memories come from my younger days. If I took the words of Dr. Laura to heart, I would stand up to fear and choose different steps as my feet move forward. Then, as my life filled with positivity through the rough, the desperation will wear away and I will be too busy to dwell on memories.

Acceptance is liberating.

Hummingbirds and Bumble Bees

You know, it's funny the way things turn out. I have a good friend who is so much like me in so many ways, and as she brought it up to me, we didn't even pick each other. We probably would have never met, in fact. But through the random chain of events called life, we were brought together and we tend to really help each other out. So many of the things she's said to me have stuck where it counts and pushed me when I started to slip. And once a week or so, I get to be that kind of support for her. She's a self-proclaimed fat-friend picker, and I am the serial "life-saver." She's unconditional. She's too busy. She's pushy. She's arrogant. She's insecure. She's so much like me.

And then there's our situation. Yes, one situation that both of us have. Fat-Friend Picker has her man. She has her daughters. She has her business. But she doesn't have as much control of any of it than she'd like. Over the course of creating the life she dreamed about, she lost herself. Now, it seems as if none of what she has is how she thought she chose it. Years after throwing herself into and dedicating her time to this business, she realized that it's not giving her the return she expected. I kind of compare it to being a surrogate mother. You eat right, sacrifice, fall in love with your belly and all the pains that accompany, and once that head and big feet arrive, they're given back to someone else.

I've been there, done that. I coddled Rubber and Chrome. I detailed it. I loved it. And then Big Man brought me back to reality. No matter how much I was in control behind the scenes of Rubber and Chrome, Big Man was the one who got all the smiles. The trips, the shows, the credit. It wasn't until I unraveled all the knots in the emotional ties, that I realized what was really the situation. I rocked at business. I'm organized. I'm committed. I'm smart and creative. But this wasn't my business. I would have never, in a million years, chose Rubber and Chrome as my start-up. What I loved was being successful. And it was finally time to be successful with ME. I could still be involved with Rubber and Chrome, but at the end of the day, I would be excited to move another step forward in the journey of me. This is too, the story of Fat-Friend Picker.

Another aspect, babies. I have a baby. A baby girl. And what I'm learning as each day passes, is that my baby girl is less and less like a baby, and I have no idea or control over what the next minute will have in store. Stinkyface is standing up by herself today. She doesn't just lay on me when I want her to. She's got exploring to do, and people to coherce. And, even though I've been told I'm the queen of thinking too far ahead, she's going to grow up. She's going to start school with teachers I can't control, and be around other kids I can't monitor, and learn lessons by making mistakes I can't take back for her. And then she's going to follow Mother Nature's timeframe and become a woman. And then the dreadful weener. Yes, she's going to like boys. And I'm going to go out on a limb and say they're going to like her back. After that heavy, black curtain falls on me and knocks me out for awhile, I'm going to wake up and have to face reality. Hummingbirds and bumble bees are going to be the topic of conversation until I'm blue in the face or she runs away, whatever comes first. Fat-Friend Picker has just recently pulled her curtain off her head and is possibly considering the likely fact that it has left a scar that will take some time to heal. Although, in this aspect, we're not exactly in the same situation, it will one day happen to me, so all I can do is listen, with a juxtaposition of horror and amazement, to her almost-unreal stories and offer a shoulder to cry on, while I contemplate my own suicide before Stinkyface blossoms.

Then there's the man. The guy responsible for knocking me up. The baby daddy. The guy I can love one minute and despise the next. Obviously there's something about Big Man. I went on a second date. I moved in with him. We shared a house, a business, 3 cars. And then the damned cute girl was born. I gave him all of me. I supported him when he was hitting near-bottom. I cooked and cleaned for him. He detailed my car. He would open jars I couldn't. I was bitter towards him when he did whatever his little heart desired. A-HA!! I was mad at Big Man because, as immature as he did it, he looked out for what he wanted. He did, said, was whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. And me?? I was the one always making sure he didn't fall. I was the one always making sure he was doing what I thought was best for us. I was the one never looking out for me. And that's why I was pissed. There was the first SEMA show Big Man went to without me. I was walking with Fat-Friend Picker, as her hubby is in the same damn industry, on a beautiful trail in the Loop, when she said "He's going to do what he's going to do, and he's going to be the one who looks stupid when he acts it." That's when it clicked. I just can't be in control of him. He's a person, just like me. He may make mistakes. He may do the right thing. But it's up to him to be his best. Just like it's up to me to be mine. It's no wonder no matter how many things I think I'm in control of, I'm unhappy. And after a very long time from that walk, I finally was able to consider ME first and foremost. This is something I'm watching Fat-Friend Picker battle inside herself. Even though, way back then, she had the answer, she wasn't applying it to her own life. Basketball theory, anyone??

Now that I'm on my own journey to greatness, I can recall, in hindsight, just how hard it was to get over that hump. I would get to the cusp, and things would get good, and I would roll all the way back down the hill and have to start again. I would forget everything I was working on and for, and fall back into the easy habit. I would say, just this year, in fact, I conquered that mountain. And I might now be ecstatic everyday, but I'm so much happier. I'm a better person in everything I do because I spend my time trying to be who I want to be, not trying to make everything else mold to me. I get along so much better with Big Man. I'm finishing school and will start a career that will take care of me and Stinkyface no matter what happens. And I will be able to teach Stinkyface to get where she wants to go with respect but minimal distraction. Although there's still a little fog around Fat-Friend Picker, I can see where she's headed, and I think its safe to say, not only will she be happier, her relationships, her businesses, and her girls will all progress with Godspeed to where they're supposed to go.

It's so crazy, this roller-coaster called life. Thank goodness my life did what it did when it did it, because I'm so happy to have friends like Fat-Friend Picker around, and I'm blessed with my family as well. There apparently really is a rhyme and reason to things even if they seem negative or insurmountable at the time.