It's my Golden Birthday!

Last night we had a couple drinks a Le Fuentes and the BF headed to poker with the promise of some early-morning birthday rocking. I was really hoping it would happen since it's been almost a week and time was ticking on when I could with out being delayed another 4 days.

At 2:00 he called me and said he forgot the keys to my place, so I let him in. He informed me that he was just in the mood to cuddle, crawling into bed fully dressed, rolling over with his back to me and promptly snoring so loud that I could barely sleep. He jumped out of bed about an hour later, only to puke I assumed. At 4:00 his moaning was driving me nuts that I rolled over and rubbed his back lightly, before he snapped that his head killed and he needed aspirin. So I got some Excedrin and a bottle of water and he laid back down saying it felt like he got smacked by a freight train and that he was freezing. So I went downstairs and turned up the heat, went back to bed. He complained how bad his head hurt, so I went back downstairs and grabbed a Gatorade, hoping that the elecrolytes would help hydrate him quicker. Of course, I couldn't open it and I couldn't see anything with my new curtains up ... so I flipped on the lights and he flipped out again. He finally settled into sleeping around 5am and I was wide awake.

My mom called about 7:30am to wish me a happy birthday and I snuck down and took a shower, got dressed and ready for work. I wasn't supposed to be in until noon, but there wasn't much I could do, so I packed up, left him my keys and a note, and headed in at 9:30.

Happy Birthday Blues

I tried to arrange what I figured would be away to get the majority of my friends and family out for my birthday - do a dinner on the West side of town and do drinks by my place on the South side.

I invited my Dad to dinner, knowing that my mom, step-dad and brother would only be going to the bar portion, when he informed me his girlfriend's daughter was coming in from out of town and he wouldn't be able to celebrate my birthday for another 2 weeks. I was bummed, but I wasn't going to hold it against him - until I asked my brother (older one) and sister if they'd be joining me. My dad interrupted them before they could speak, "No, they're coming over here for a family dinner." I was dumbfounded, (a) I wasn't invited to the "family dinner" and (b) it's my birthday! Why can't my siblings come with me to dinner?

I guess that's why you have friends. 20 people RSVPed for dinner, 40 for the bar. Happy birthday to me.

Although the BF is pretty certain he's going to get me so intoxicated he can throw it in my, ahem, I have a feeling I'll be too busy playing bags & socializing to get that trashed ...

Diamonds are a ...

I had shook the presents, I had played with the package (the wrapped ones under the tree) and at no point did I think I'd get jewelry.

I had just been through 7 hours of my family when I got to his and I sat down next to a broken hearted friend that was there and his kid, and behind me he stood with a little box.

And you know what little boxes are.

It was a journey necklace, diamonds all in a row. It sparkled. I wanted to cry but we were around family so I hugged him. I wanted to blurt out I love you - not because of the jewelry but because I really do. But I just put it on and kept touching it all night.

Diamonds are not a girls best friend, diamonds are a gift that showed me this just might be real.

Merry Christmas Eve!

And what a Christmas it's going to be.

Friday was a friend's birthday, so the BF & I enjoyed dinner & a couple cocktails. I enjoyed too many and at 2am REALLY needed to go home. The BF was too involved in bowling to drive me home, so his roommate offered to help out. I kissed him goodbye and he said, "Drive Safe. I love you." I turned around and walked out - head spinning. Really? The first I love you and we're both trashed. It hasn't been uttered since, but relatively sure that it's due to my reaction.

Passport Getting.

I was nervous, my heart was pounding. I mean, not only was it expensive, but it meant that we better be together in 2 months still. And it's been 7 months and neither of us have yet to utter "I love you." It also meant that this was it - a $2,000 investment. On one hand it dawns on me that his first experience on a plane, a trip outside the country, scuba diving, horseback riding - it's all going to be with me. So even if he does break up with me afterwards he won't be able to get around that fact.

I'm a bit nervous as well since I didn't get a raise - not even cost of living, and have a higher car payment and this trip to pay for. I went to the table with the pure facts - my first year I increased your sales by 275%, my second year I've increased it by 85% - $4500 a month. And that doesn't include the corporate sale which actually means I've increased the yearly sales by 97% and that the monthly increase is actually around $7500 a month. Because of my sales, we've moved to a new office, we've gotten another full time instructor and all of our classrooms are equipped with intel macs. What did I get told? They actually want to reduce my commission schedule - meaning that I'll make $11,000 less this year. Let's also add on that there's now 5 additional restrictions on my sale, which will effectively reduce my monthly sales as well. How do you spell that? S-C-R-E-W-E-D.

Oh Baby!

Jessica Alba is pregnant. (26)

Lilly Allen is pregnant. (22)

Jamie Lynne Spears is pregnant. (16)

Do not drink the water in Hollywood.

WP's Curse.

My golden birthday is one week away. And I'm sick as a dog. Please no curse!!

Real Beauty.

Perhaps you've seen Dove's new campaign for Real Beauty featuring the little, red-haired girl leaving the school bus followed by images of ill-proportioned, sex-symbol-esque, surgery wielding beauties, followed by the message "Talk to your daughter before the fashion industry does."

Let me start by saying - I am in love with the real beauty campaign. I think it's a brilliant marketing strategy that the American public needs to hear. With the majority of women in this country being a size 14, it is often too easy to believe that beauty is in the heroin-sheik, or the bottle-wielding tiny bopper celebrities. For a beauty company to come out and tell women that it's okay to be themselves, is in genius. It's a long the lines of Jennifer Love Hewitt's rant to TMZ for dissing her size 2 body a couple weeks back, while enjoying her engagement in Hawaii (see http://www.thatsfit.com/2007/12/08/jennifer-love-hewitt-gets-celebs-talking/). But I digress.

The video for Real Beauty is called "Onslaught," just in case you haven't been one of the hundreds of thousands of clicks. This is an example of yet another viral campaign (my obsession), and a rather successful one at that. But, when dealing with video campaigns you're often going to get tied into youtube.com and have video comments back. A downside to this type of advertising is that the response may not always be 100% positive, and can indeed be enlightening. Please see what I found on my viral tracking today.

Drained

I feel exhausted both physically and emotionally. I was looking forward to running after work, but I might just skip it for a nap.

As it turns out, I'm not 21 anymore. I'm not sure exactly how I used to survive on 4 hours of sleep and have tons of energy the next day, but there's no more waiting up until 1:30 in the morning for the rest of this week (or so I say).

R's snuggly cat was gone, which led my bed to being void of anything to cuddle with minus a pillow or two. The Bumpkin doesn't really snuggle, so I watched info-mercials until 1:30, swearing I wouldn't take a Lunesta to sleep since there's only 2 left. The TV clicked off and I looked at my phone, turned over and closed my eyes. 6:00 came way too fast.

This morning I laid on my back, staring at the ceiling, contemplating how much I really wanted to get up and go to work (I didn't) and replaying certain events in my head, trying to decide what exactly the next steps should be. I've been haunted all weekend by what I can only sadly say is my new neighbor, who had not-so-nice words to say to me in our parting 7 years ago. That alone through me for a whirlwind and being alone all weekend to relish in those thoughts hasn't been a delight.

I did, on the other hand, complete 2 nice tasks this weekend. My neighbor got stuck (ironically in the same spot I did when I had to call Steve to help me out - by the way - neutral works again) so I helped push her out and some crazy drunk people need a jump and lost their friend, so I pointed in the direction that he ran. Hopefully I'll get a good lick of karma now since it does seem I've been in a bit of a downward spiral the past 2 weeks.

I did put up my Christmas Tree. Arguably my little grey friend isn't even slightly amused by the hanging ornaments. Makes me wish I didn't wait 5 years to put it up again. He hasn't attempted to climb or eat the branches. Of course, I say that now and I'll probably go home and it'll be tipped over. Good thing it's not in my room, so I'll still be able to nap when I get home.

Hello Neighbor.

My ex-fiance is my new neighbor. Which sucks.

Well, he's not really my neighbor, but lives somewhere in my hood. I've seen him every day for the last 3 weeks.

I can't help but think about his last words to me when we finally broke things off ...

"You've lost your chance. You'll never be married, you'll never have kids, I was your chance at happiness. You're sure you want to be alone forever? Then fine."

I put it off to a broken heart, but I'm turning 27 in just a couple weeks and I can't help but wonder what was the truth in the matter. Especially when dealing with the BF.

On Sunday he didn't even invite me over for the game. I still took the kid to see "Golden Compass" - a $30 expenditure, by the way, only to have the kid get pissed because I only let him play arcade games for 20 minutes.

He invited me to dinner, but I had plans with R since I had been watching her kitty since Thursday. I told him I'd be at the Palomino and he came to join us for a couple drinks. It was awkward to say the least - I so badly wanted him to grab me and kiss me, but he barely said one word and I was empty for feelings for the total rejection all weekend.

He called at 10:30 and said that "perhaps I'll surprise you and you'll wake up next to me" - so when it was 2:00 in the morning I dropped him a text saying, "New rule, no more joking about coming over." I rolled over and clung to my pillow, I couldn't help but think that if he had done that one tiny gesture things would have been different. And to play my own devil's advocate - I realized that I can't hope for him to do any of these things ever.

He texted me at 6:30 that he was sorry and wished me a good day.

And then I saw the ex as I left. I stopped a bit short of the stop sign and for a moment gave into the truth in his prophecy. I also remembered that I am the only one that can control my future.

Looking for an off switch.

My brain won't stop running.

He never called nor did he come over last night. I didn't really sleep.

So at 9am I got up, packed up the laundry and headed to Franklin. I bought a Christmas tree and stopped by my sister's. I chatted with her boyfriend, he was on the way to pick up her engagement ring so I drove.

He's one of the nicest guys I know, and she's one of the biggest bitches. How did that happen? And here I am - one of the nicest girls on the planet and I can't even get my boyfriend of almost 7 months to call after he's been hanging out with 21 year old hoochies.

So when he finally called at 2:00, I didn't answer. Truth be told, I was doing laundry but I didn't feel the need to return the call. At 3:00 we were at Target, I was returning the present I bought for the BF's kid and picked up something new. But the whole experience was emptied hearted. Then he called again and left an irate message - explaining that he knew I was mad but I had no right to be. I called back a few minutes later, I told him that I was shopping.

At 7 he called and wanted me to go to come over. I said no. He wanted to go to the movies with me & his kid - a movie he didn't want to see. I brought the point up and he said, "I miss you though."

So tell me this - when it was 7:45 he called to say that he couldn't make it the 8:15 show. I offered to take his son tomorrow after he gets done with his mom so he didn't have to see it or go to the later show. If he really did miss me, wouldn't he have chosen the later?

But he didn't. So I sit here on a Saturday night alone, trying to get my brain to stop running.

27 in 20 days.

I will be 27 in 20 days.

I was reading back on some of the old posts and I realized that nothing has really changed since 2006. Except I have less money. And a boyfriend (see previous reason). And I'm spending Friday nights alone.

The retrospective of the evening spent either running in the freaking cold or chilling out with the kitties led me to dwell. I hate dwelling. I dwelled on the fact that my mom told me, "You really want to go on a cruise with someone who doesn't love you?" And I dwelled on the fact that my friends were out on dates while my BF was at a freaking club with a bunch of 21 year olds grinding the shit out of them and getting wasted - while not even having the decency to call like he said he would.

I know, stop bitching and do something about it.

Hey! It'll save me $1200.

2 Hours.

11:00 the phone rings, it's the BF. We negotiate a noon-er.

11:20 I arrive at his place. It's mad chaos. We haven't even made out in almost a week. We work our way up to his room, undressing on the stairs.

11:45 we lay in orgasmic silence. I start gently rubbing his shoulders and chest.

12:50 we realize that we've just taken a 2 hour lunch. Shit. We need to get to work. Get dressed. Can't walk, legs hurt. Too bad.

1:10 I arrive back at work. Thank God I sit at a desk.

In 10 seconds ... TMI Post.

I'll pull my hair out. Seriously, how hard does a girl have to work to get a little loving these days?

I worked 9 hours, came home, changed into a skirt (sans the panties), hooker boots, low top, went to the store and grabbed the things to make Au Gratin potatoes, a fresh salad and stuffed pork chops. Cooked. Served the food. Cleaned not only the dishes that I made while cooking, but the supplies of 3 people since Sunday (when I cleaned everything as well) - all in the hopes that at some point he'd come behind, lift the skirt and give it to me.

But instead he watched football with my friend. Okay, so I did have a friend over - but her grandma had just died, and not to give too much information away - but sneaking sex with out her knowing it would have been an extra benefit.

And then when I took her back to my house where her car was parked, he wouldn't even come over - he wanted me to drive back to screw him, and then of course I'd have to drive back home tonight because he works at 7am.

Just screw me already! GRRR.

Did I mention my vibrator is broke. I don't get paid for 3 weeks, so I can't buy another one.

How do you spell sexually frustrated? M and E.

One More Reason to Love Jennifer Love Hewitt.

I used to hate her. Every guy I dated wanted to rip her clothes off and screw her. I couldn't stand Party of 5 and I Know What You Did Last Summer.

But over the years I've come to terms with her sweet-girl-next-door image. From trying to give away an air mattress when she found out Matt Damon didn't own a bed (http://teens.aol.com/entertainment/weird-celeb-facts?photo=8) to her wholesome (yet chest baring) acting in "Ghost Whisperer" - but really, after the article below.

From: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2007/12/03/jennifer-love-hewitt-defe_n_75096.html

About the Hawaii Photos...
This is the last time I will address this subject.

I've sat by in silence for a long time now about the way women's bodies are constantly scrutinized. To set the record straight, I'm not upset for me, but for all of the girls out there that are struggling with their body image.

A size 2 is not fat! Nor will it ever be. And being a size 0 doesn't make you beautiful.

What I should be doing is celebrating some of the best days of my life and my engagement to the man of my dreams, instead of having to deal with photographers taking invasive pictures from bad angles. I know what I look like, and so do my friends and family. And like all women out there should, I love my body.

To all girls with butts, boobs, hips and a waist, put on a bikini -- put it on and stay strong.

Xoxo

JLH

Screwing yourself.

We got our first snow storm - on the anniversary, ironically, of the blizzard last year (December 1st). I stayed at my mom's doing laundry and baking banana goods (NG's banana's were WAY over ripe) and then started the 40 minute, 20 mile an hour, trek home. The BF wanted to go out, so we did - bowling, yet again. It's not that I don't like bowling, I do - but when you do it ALL the time and you still suck it kind of runs its course.

Anyway, I consumed A LOT. The BF drove, and even if he didn't it's not like I couldn't just walk home. Both of us consumed more than our fair share and ended up in one of those better-to-be drunk conversations. It started off with Christmas.

I informed him that he could have his choice for Christmas - the cruise our family is taking in February (but it would be combined with his birthday) or Packer tickets for December 30th. He said he'd really prefer the cruise and then said, "so we agree that the cruise will be our exchange this year?" Drunk, I said yes.

Then there was the conversation regarding my sister calling him my boy-toy on Thanksgiving. It turns out he was rather hurt by the conversation. He asked if my family even liked him. I told him that they did; however, my sister won't take anyone seriously that I'm with unless we've said I loved you, there's a ring, or a wedding. This was actually quite strategic on my drunken state, since the fact that we've been together 6 months and haven't said it turns out to be a little concerning for me. His response was not what I was thinking, he explained "We've only been together for 6 months, I'm not going to say it unless I mean it." Ouch. Take another drink.

Then there was the topic of kids that came up. We were joking that my family needs more kids, he joked that I should have one. That's when I admitted that I probably can't. I think it was a sobering statement for him. "Good to know." Was his response. He asked why, and I evaded the question. I responded with "I have a 5% chance." Drink.

The next morning I woke with a killer headache and flashes of the night before. The cruise conversation dawned on me - and that's when I realized that I screwed myself out of a Christmas present because I'm the one paying for the cruise, he's not paying for any of it. Shit.

I went by my mom's and recounted the story about him being my boy-toy, she told me to think long and hard about whether or not I wanted to take the cruise with someone who doesn't know after 6 months that he loves me. The truth is I had been.

I figured the cruise is still the best route - if something happens between now and then, I'll just pony up the $200 for a name change on the ticket and bring a friend. It'll still be my trip. And if nothing does happen - then maybe it'll be very titanic like and he'll tell me that he does indeed care.

Two little stories that might make you giggle.

The first one is TMI - so scroll if you don't want all the information.

I started cleaning my house on Friday, bored from having the day off I had already tried out the malls for a little black Friday shopping. When I got SUPER bored, I thought "Hell! I'm just going to masturbate." Too tired from all the moving around, I decided to aid my experience with a little pornography left behind by an old trashy roommate. I put the vibrator on high and started watching.

When my door opened. And I could hear movement. And all I could think to do is quickly close my bedroom door, THEN flip off the vibrator and yell "Oh shit!" to myself as I clicked off the rather loud TV.

My maintenance guy just caught me masturbating.


My second story is just kind of gross.

While in the flu daze, I had a rather bad issue of both ends. So while sitting on the toilet I felt the need to vomit. Thanking God my tub was next to the toilet, I swung my head around and - oops. Didn't make it all the way. The Bumpkin was in the way of the projection. His big green eyes looked up at me like, "Why Mom? Why?"

I puked on my cat.

I still don't think he's 100% forgiven me.

Did She, or Didn't She?

She, being me, didn't. The answer to all questions on your mind.

I thought I might have, but under the terms of intoxication - I don't think I did. I remember bringing up the fact that, once again, he was active on Match within 24 hours and if he didn't want to be in a monogamous relationship - by all means, he didn't have to be.

Then I went home and puked. At first I thought it was the alcohol, by all means the first one may have been, but puking non-stop at 11am told me different. I had the flu. It had just gone around my family and was precisely 24 hours according to them.

I couldn't buck it up, I was a mess. Water, puke. Gatorade, puke. Juice, puke. Soup, puke. Crackers, puke. 24 hours straight, nothing would be kept down. I shivered in my apartment with the heat cranked to 85 degrees, 2 shirts, 2 sweatpants, 2 blankets and one very hot bumpkin. When the phone rang at 7:00pm, I was in desperate search of companionship or at least a gun. His voice was calm and collected on the other line, mine? Not so much. I pushed away tears as I interrupted our call twice because I had to puke, again. He offered a heating blanket and soup, I turned him down. What I really wanted was him, but he had the kid and I didn't want to get them sick. He told me to feel better by tomorrow, I had to help with appetizers.

It wasn't until the vomiting subsided at around 10pm that I questioned what had just happened - didn't I just break up with him? I checked Nic's link - his profile didn't exist anymore on Match. Maybe I negotiated that? Either way, I figured I'd smile through Thanksgiving and call it a day.

I arrived at 10am to help with appetizers. We went over to his ex-wife's mom's for a late Thanksgiving. It was a lovely time. He kissed me and cuddled me in front of them. He was concerned about my stomach at dinner. We went bowling, we went back to his house, and when the drinking was too much for our standard Sunday night, he begged me to sleep over simply because "I love sleeping next to you."

And the sex this morning was good.

In thinking about things I was wondering who was making what decisions. 1/2 my friends hate him, 1/2 of them love him. The 1/2 that hate are loud mouths about it, begging me at every corner to break up with him. The 1/2 that don't beg me to listen to my heart.

But my heart's confused :(

7 Random Things - As Tagged By Sexy House Wife

7 Random Things About Me:

(1) I love vanilla tootsie rolls
(2) I'm a big old baby when I'm sick
(3) I have a dog-sitting business which is extremely draining.
(4) My favorite drink is Captain & Diet Coke (no lime!)
(5) I pretend not to be romantic, but I really yearn for it.
(6) I used to dabble in amateur photography - until it got a little on the seedy side.
(7) I've never had my heart REALLY broken. It's hurt, but not been broken.

Oh Shoppers!

I did it at 11:00. I needed a new jacket. That was why. And while there, I got the perfect break-up outfit too.

Although, I should have taken Bella's advice and made like a band-aid I feared my family's reaction to not having him around or any him for that matter. I just wanted to fake happiness for one day and I did, except I confused it for the real deal. Tired after 3 Thanksgivings yesterday, I slept next to him. It's been over a week since I've done that. His body is so warm, so lovely.

And then Nic called, but not for normal Thanksgiving chit-chat, to let me know that he was still active on Match.com.

For the life of me, I wanted to believe that I was good enough. But I'm not. Not for him at least. So me and my shattered heart are leaving.

Tonight I'll put on the new jeans (that actually fit) and the new shirt and I'm going to tell him that I can't do this. I can't be good now, because that means at some point I won't be good anymore.

The tough part is I was actually IN LOVE with him. That, my lovely folks, is why I don't date. I don't like this part. The part where I want to crawl in a ball or scream and ask why I couldn't be good enough.

At least I'll look good while trying.

The Revelations of Last Night.

It started with harmless drinks with the BF's ex wife and a friend I'll call GS (guy stealer).

First I get told a story of banter at the Ex and the BF's Thanksgiving on Sunday. Someone asked if they were together, she told them they used to be but now she was with her fiance and that I'd become shortly. The BF joked to her that at least she upgraded. Okay, so does that make me a downgrade? Then she said, "I told him if even said you were a downgrade I'd break his legs. And then he shut up. Okay. So I am a downgrade. Lovely.

GS showed up and more stories of the BF got going. She mentioned on July 4 at our family picnic (where they were both present) that it was extremely apparent the BF wanted to get with her. I am his girlfriend and your friend, but thanks for the story.

GS is actually with AD now. They hooked up while she knew that him and I were still a bit together, hence the GS title. She said that the BF and AD have eased up on eachother because now the BF knows he doesn't have a shot with her and AD is not a threat because their together.

Wow. Is any of this supposed to make me feel better?

The Ex, who weighs maybe an ounce, kept reiterating that the BF doesn't NORMALLY like big girls. Ahem, that would be me.

While I don't mind either girls, this did nothing for my self esteem and off to home I went to contemplate.

At around 11 the BF called to tell me that he talked w/the ex and heard that I offered to bring their son to the Turkey Bowl if the BF wouldn't make it. Which of course didn't go over well on his already drinking butt.

Which came to his tyrant about how is ex is still so involved in his life and he wants to move away, but can't because of the Kid. And over, and over, about how SHE left him, not the other way around. How she keeps running back to him and he doesn't know what to do. HE went to the counseling, she didn't. How HE tried to make it work. He was so sick of HER trying to get back into his life, because SHE always runs back to her ex.

I told him to have fun at poker and reflected under the premise of Captain and Lunestas about what just occurred.

First of all, I think it means he still loves her because he wanted me to understand that he didn't leave her.

Second of all, I was never mentioned once as a reason why he'd stay or why she should leave him alone.

Third, I don't want to be a downgrade.

Fourth, the conclusion. This isn't good for any of us.

The last nail in the coffin.

It was his drunken 20 minute rant last night that made me realize that this relationship with the BF just wasn't going work. For 20 minutes he talked about his ex-wife and how he was sick of dealing with her whenever she needed something, and re-iterated about 50 or so times that "she left him" he didn't leave her. When it finally dawned on me. He's still in love with her.

Not to mention the cocktail earlier where I found out that he insinuated that he downgraded to me.

I looked at everything on the table at the moment and realized there was no setting for me.

It has to be over no matter how much I love him, no matter how much I hate the idea of being alone.

I will NOT be the other woman, even if the marriage is supposedly dead.

Giving Thanks.

I'm thankful for ...

My New Jetta. And getting it by myself without anyone's help.

My New Apartment Even though I have to concentrate on making it a home in the next few weeks.

My Friends & Family That called me non-stop to make sure I was okay after the accident.

And for those that didn't. So I know who is a good investment of time and who isn't.

For giving up on 4 years of being single. Realizing that I could be in a relationship.

For finding out that single is okay and having the faith to go back to it even in the fear of being a crazy cat lady.

Is Romance Dead?

Think about it. 50 years ago men did more than a handful of things to woo the ladies they liked - take this for instance: http://www.jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=683367, or just look at my grandparents. With shoe boxes still filled with love letters, trinket jewelry bought on a budget and pressed flowers all show the romance of courting. My grandpa still tells my Grandma that he loves her everyday, holds her hand - even if they're just on the couch, tells her that she is by far the most beautiful woman in the world.

30 years ago there was a slight change - still the letters and flowers, the romantic dates and what not. Romance existed in the ideal sense of wanting to start a family and settle down in your early 20s, if not sooner. There were late night dinners with a dress code, dancing under the stars, sneaking away for kissing.

Even 20 years ago there was a concerted effort to be romantic still.

But in today's world it seems like there's just no time to be romantic. We're so concerned with getting things done and fit in to our technology driven day that we forget what Hollywood tells us still exists. No one picks you up anymore because you're too busy to go home - you'll just meet out somewhere instead ... if you even go out. And if you do, you're struggling with balancing your moment of free time with the person you care about and your friends, so you're out to dinner or drinks with people and not yourselves.

Flowers are only given when there's a good chance that someone did something wrong. Not just because. Maybe it's in an effort to be green that we don't stop and just pick a single stem or a bouquet because it'll just die, or because we forget that it's a fragrant reminder that someone cares. Maybe it's just because it takes too much time to stop and pick one on the side of the road or go to the grocery store and balance it with our frozen meals. Love letters are null and void and replaced perhaps with text messages, an abbreviated message of temporary satisfaction that will not be stored in a shoebox for the grand kids. And Love, if said at all, is replaced with "Luv" and you with "yah" - not so sure why, but it just is.

Does the first kiss on the doorstep still exist? The walk to the car? The little words like, "I don't want you to go" or "I miss you." Will there really be anyone outside my window with a boom box declaring that they want to be with me? Will I come to work and find a bouquet of lilies, because they're my favorite) declaring "just because" or "can't wait to see you" or "thanks for last night?" Not likely, because romance may only exist on the flickering big screen - or better yet, for $3.99 bought right off your cable box, because you also don't have to take someone to the movies anymore.

Upgrade.

I upgraded on Saturday. To a 2004 Reflex Silver, 4 Door, Sun/Moonroof, leather toting, heated seat, Jetta. All by myself.

And I've realized that there are some other upgrades that are going to happen in the next few weeks. First of all, I'm in the mood for a little cut and color-sexy feeling do. And some new clothes that actually fit.

Then there's the BF. I've been wondering lately if I just have my standards too high, if I'm expecting too much. If I'm caught up in the world of romantic movies, expecting at any moment for him to be outside my window with a boombox screaming my name and actually tell me that he loves me. But then I realized it doesn't matter if that's my standard - because maybe there will be someone out there that thinks I'm the best. That thinks I'm beautiful. That wants to kiss me, make out with me, hold me, to parade me around like he's the luckiest guy on the planet. It turns out that that person isn't the BF. I don't think he's even ever told me I was pretty, I looked nice. I'm not sure if leaving the relationship is an "upgrade" perhaps since being single all over again doesn't seem like a higher life.

But it's not a downgrade either.

Toasty Buns.

I fell in love with a Jetta.

2004
51000 miles
Leather Interior (with seat warmers)
Monsoon stereo system
Sun/Moon Roof
Power windows/locks
ABS
Overdrive capability
Automatic.

It's just going to cost me my soul ....

I want to nap.

Ugh. The insurance company is just giving me enough to cover my loan so that means I'm going into a new-used car purchase with $200.00 and no trade-in. I'm not sure how this will even work.

I've kind of settled on a VW, one because it's the "cool" industry thing, and two because a bunch of friends have them and they seem to run well.

Now it's trying to fit it all in to the schedule.

Somehow I have to manage to buy a car, go to Indy, make banana bread by Tuesday and make 4 different kind of pies by Thursday morning....

Getting back to normal.

The last few days have left me with a bit of a bad taste in my mouth regarding the BF. I was seriously contemplating whether or not this is really what I wanted in my life and the answer was indefinitely no. So last night when the phone rang, I hesitated picking it up, I could blame it on the fact that I was still at a networking event...

But I did, because - as always - I fold. I was greeted by "Hey sexy sugar plum."

I asked him if he was drunk, turns out he was just trying to be sweet and then I realized, maybe this kind of reaction makes him not want to be emotional with me. I went to his house and cuddled up for 1408, which by the way - was not as good as I thought it could be. He was different, not cold but the guy that I was falling in love with. He kissed the top of my head, "Your hair smells good." That was all he needed to do earlier in the week, that little action made me feel genuine.

With my bumps and bruises almost gone, the sweet kisses and touching were welcome and we climbed into his bed for a little one-on-one time. Then we cuddled. I couldn't remember the last time we cuddled. His skin is so incredibly soft, and he touched me while we laid there and even though he didn't say it, I knew he was thinking that he was glad I was there.

I tossed & turned for a couple hours but then gave into how tired I was and woke up touching his back. It was incredibly nice. He quietly got out of bed and let me sleep, a kiss on my forehead to see if I wanted to sleep longer or get up followed.

Where was this guy a couple days ago??

I want Hollywood!

I know it's senseless, and perhaps Hollywood isn't doing us any favors by portraying these men that would do anything for their ladies, but lately I can't help but really want Hollywood.

It all started with the accident on Saturday morning. I texted the BF that I was in an accident and on my way to the hospital at 9:32. At 12:45 he finally called back, but was I was in the hospital still so no cell phone. He left a message, "Just me, seeing how you are - uh, call me back."

I did at 2:00, fresh from the trauma of the salvage yard and in tears I told him I hit 2 cement walls. "Well, are you okay?" he said. I replied "Couple bumps and bruises but I'm alive ..." His response? "Okay, well are you still coming over tonight?" I told him I'd see, obviously I had no vehicle.

He called at 8:00 and I told him I was waiting for Jim to pick me up and I'd be over. About 9:00 I arrived at his house and he hugged me. NG and his girl, as well as the BF's kid asked if I was okay. He didn't. He didn't even sit next to me. After the kid went to bed, he came by, I cuddled into his side and he fell asleep. Promptly kicking me out at 2am.

On Sunday I dropped off the cookies I baked for him early last week and said I couldn't stay long, I played legos and Star Wars with his son and he turned to me and said "I thought you had to leave. You should go home and take a nap." So I gathered my things, "We are going bowling - right?" he asked. I said I'd be there, hoping at any minute he'd run up and swing me around and yell out to the world, "I'm so glad you're okay!" But instead I got into my vehicle with not so much as a peck on the cheek.

We bowled. I wasn't happy. We said barely any words to each other except for the occasional high 5 for knocking down pins. At the end of the night the drinks made us a little more tipsy and we kissed. I also MAY have started blowing him in the parking lot outside of the truck ... maybe. I blame that action on the fact that he asked for sex and even though I told him my body was bruised and ugly, he shrugged and said he didn't care (Hollywood answer is NOT - I don't care, it's "you're beautiful, what are you talking about" by the way). So we had sex, and of course, an ungodly long session that made me use many of my bruised up parts. And when we were done? He told me to "get back to the dog - and lock the door on your way out."

Talk about feeling more like a hooker than a girlfriend.

On Monday he called to ask what I was making for dinner. I ended up buying Chinese. On Tuesday he was supposed to come over, though due to his lack of interest in my well-being, I drank a bit too much and decided to pass out early (my one and only night of sleep over 2 hours). On Wednesday I brought him lunch. We didn't even talk while we ate. At the end of the time, I stood on his porch and kissed him, praying for his baby blues to search my soul, but to my dismay - nada.

I can't help that I want Hollywood. The guy that would have rushed to the hospital or at the very least, called non-stop until I picked up the phone. The guy that would have sent flowers or at least offered to make me dinner - scratch that, a guy that would bring out an ice pack or hand you some asprin with out asking. I want the guy that would offer to come to ME since I almost died. That would hold me when he saw me. That would whisper he was glad I was okay, or even just hold me so tight that I would know. The guy that would care that I haven't slept in almost a week and offer his shoulder for comfort during a movie.

The only thing is trying to fathom if this is a real guy or if this is Hollywood? I'm not sure anymore ...

You can't tell me God doesn't exist.

It's Saturday morning and I'm dogsitting in Whitefish Bay. It's 8:00 when I get up so I just throw on my jeans to make it to my 8:45 Blood Donation appointment. I take the dog out, promising a walk when I get back, I pat him on the head. I kiss my Bumpkin good-bye and head out into the perfect fall day.

I got to the center and they processed me right away. I was relieved when my iron count came back at 41. I gave my blood, drank my OJ and ate a cookie. Then I left. I got on the express way, starting feeling light headed, went to pull over to the right.

The next thing I know someone is grabbing my face yelling at me and asking me if I'm okay. I panic, my vision is blurred, I try over and over to open the door. The man reaches his hand in through the window and a woman is on the passenger side telling me to breath and asking if I'm okay, I tell her no - I just gave blood. I look at the man, "Did I hit you?"

"No, you didn't hit anyone. But you took out two cement walls."

"What?" I'm crying, shaking, not able to breath.

They tell me not to move. I wait, I have no idea what's going on. Then I look around and notice my windshield is shattered, the airbags have gone off, the steering wheel is in my lap, the seats are up. I answer question after question, people searching for what happened and I'm crying because I don't know. I get out of the car, refusing the long board. I remember walking to the ambulance and thinking, "Okay, it's not that bad."

I got to the hospital and my mom and step dad are there. They're x-raying me, I'm assuring them that it's just a bump on my knee. I'm still light headed. My neck hurts just a bit.

We leave the hospital 4 hours later. I'm fine. We go to the tow yard to survey the damage and get my laptop. I'm with my mom. I see the car and go white.

There's no sides left, the engine is moved up, the tires are flat, the rims broken. The windshield is shattered, the doors don't open. I collapse. I come to. My mom's eyes are welted. I look at her, "I think I should be dead." She just shakes her head and hugs me. "This is proof you're living a good life - it's karma." She handles the issues with the tow truck, I have to run outside because I'm light headed again. We get in the car and make little chit-chat, trying to ignore the issues when I started freaking out.

"Do you want me to pull over?"

"No. Yes. Now."

I get out of the car just in time to throw up the contents of my stomach. I fall to the ground in the fetal position weeping. The cold rail on the side of the road feels good with my head rested on it.

"You need to eat."

Now she's crying. We get back in the car. She calls my friend who comes over to help take care of Trevor. She hugs me, "You need to slow down huney. You really do."

I take a bath. It's warm. My head is light and my vision is blurry. I close my eyes. There's a pound on the door when I realize my head is under the water, I cough and spit out water. It's my sister, she just wanted to know if I was okay. I laid down for a bit. I still don't feel well.

By 8:00pm I'm finally feeling a bit better. My boss picks me up, I'm going to use his sister's truck. The BF and his kid are waiting for me so we can watch Transformers. I walk in and they're cuddled on the couch. I sit on the opposite couch in my ugly NE sweatshirt and fall in and out of consciousness. After the movie he sits by me. "I'm glad you're okay." He falls asleep in my lap.

New Find.

Only $7.99 on iTunes!

Verge of Halloween, Traditional Hauntings

It's 2007 and in Halloween tradition I review the hauntings of the past year.

In all honesty, for the life of me I can't think of any big ones. The last few months have been a far cry from the ones that started this blog. In fact, I'm sometimes bored reading what I'm writing.

The main haunt I have right now is with my relationship. It's been 5 months and neither of us have said the "L" word, although God knows that I do. There's too much fear in the unknown for me to utter the words first and in the past if I said it, it often led to deterioration months later. Part of the truth is I think if I don't tell him that if he breaks up with me tomorrow I won't be hurt - but I know I'd be crushed. The other truth is that I don't want things to change. There's so much in the smiles and kisses and the cuddling. It's sometimes disgusting I admit. We still make out like the night we met (although, there's usually a bed and not a Golden Tee machine involved).

I also often wonder if I'm where I'm supposed to be - at almost 27 was this the life I thought of? So many different events in the last few years have got me wondering. If we take back the years, we see the changes in my goals and anticipations.

At 18 I was engaged - and although my heart wasn't in it - I viewed myself in this jailed life of being a wife with kids in a house with a man I didn't love. But I expected my life to be that way.

And at 21 I was single for the first time in 6 years, but relationships were the only thing I knew so I wanted to be in one. I met #1 and struggled in the balance of trying to find myself and balance my anticipations. After that failed, there was a summer of deviance where I began to see myself as a person and not just an element in life. Then there was the guitar guy ...

So at 22 I decided to just be single. To work. To make a name for myself. To be the person that people admired. To not want to be married, to not want children, to be a business woman. And besides a few trysts here and there, I stuck to my guns.

And here I am at 26, still shocking people when I say I have a boyfriend, thinking how great it is to have someone to call, understand, kiss, cuddle, talk and experience life. I mean, I'm not on the marriage wagon or anything, I'm just taking it day by day.

The final haunt that still nags at me is that I haven't confessed that I might not be able to have kids, of course we've never discussed. It's almost as if it were a blessing to be in a relationship where he already has this wonderful son. But I know he's on the fence and doesn't know if he does or doesn't want kids. The truth is, I'm happy not having one of my own and I'd be happy having one too. I just don't know

Guilty Pleasures.

I always think that I should write a secret to PostSecret, then I remember that's why I have this blog. It's thrilling & scary at the same time to think that someone out there might know who I actually am.

I know I'd either be chastised or embraced, but it's the fear of rejectment that keeps me from saying.

Alarm Clock.

I really should use the real alarm clock, I've been using the cell phone's feature for the last month to help wake up in the morning but this morning it didn't really work. Turns out I never turned it off vibrate.

Oops.

Did you not get the memo?

A few months back my ex (Guitar Guy) tried to get in contact with me. After not hearing from him in a month, I sent this:

Seriously, you can not go around telling people that I hate you, I ignore you, when you don't even respond to emails. So here's the deal - you decide to have communication or you be happy with what I've told you in the past - I will never be mean, but I'm not going to pursue a friendship. The only reason that I chose to respond was because I kept hearing that you were trying to contact me and I wouldn't respond back - something that isn't true.

I'm happy with my life right now, my boyfriend, my job, my situation. I'm not going to toy with trying to be sweet and nice once every six months so that I don't have to hear behind my back how mean I am. So you're in or you're out - right now, you're out.


He finally had responded with this (by the way - perfect copy spelling errors & all):

Wow I just got this and just got back in town. Don’t check work email to much since they only have me arround during the summer and just got back from our LA contacts. I have not told anyone in a long time that you hate me. I am real glad you and I can talk and say hello time to time. I am real happy you found someone to treat you the way you deserve. I have always wished the best for you and glad you have found the happiness you deserve. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you but if you do not want me to email anymore and let your life be I can respect that. Just wanted to say hello and hope all is well.

I responded:

Listen, you can do whatever you'd like but I'm letting you know right now that your not the type of person I want in my life. I've learned a valuable lesson that you choose people to be involved with. Please don't contact me.

Well, today I was on Chat for work and - oh, he writes.

What do I need to say???

Secret Worlds.

I can't stand the people that change when they have a significant other - like E who can't seem to piss with out permission. I mean, I used to be that girl. With #1, I was the domestic goddess and princess girlfriend. I bought drinks, I worked out to maintain the perfect physique, I cooked, I gave up late nights with friends to appease him. With the guitar guy I partied and smoked, I cooked and cleaned, I begged and pleaded and I sat on the side while he got blown and f*cked in the bathroom, all while swooshing the melting ice cubes in my drink. With RS and so many others I was okay with being a dirty secret, moving about the backgrounds in silence, pretending to be anything but lovers.

But with the BF it's different. I don't feel like I have to appease him. I mean, I want to do nice things and live this secure life - but I've found away for balance this time.

On Mondays I play domestic goddess and cook him dinner.

On Tuesdays I play harlot and he comes over for an evening romp.

On Wednesdays I relax, we sometimes don't even talk.

On Thursdays he plays dad all day and I play business woman. If I do see him it's the feet up, relaxing evening.

On Fridays we play couple and go out (sometimes interchangeable with Saturdays - which is date night).

On Sundays we relax and we bowl.

And all in the same time I don't feel like I need to do any of the above.

This is the game plan I'm using in all future relationships ... if needed. :)

Maybe I should start a site.

In all the drama of the apartment fiasco, I'm considering starting my own website where people can talk about their rental experiences in Milwaukee. There is a site - "Apartment Ratings" - but it's only big businesses.

In a way, I feel like I owe it to their next renter to let them know what they may be in for. The pop-ins, the needs, the lack of repairs, the invasion of privacy. It's along the lines of living with your parents - except paying a ton of money to them.

It would be a place where you could post and warn - or post and rave - for small properties.

In not receiving my security deposit back yet and the threats of withholding that I got today, I'm starting to think it's not a bad idea ...

That's an interesting conversation.

Real life conversation I had with a friend today ...

Friend: "So you're getting home about 6?"

MG: "Yup."

Friend: "What are you going to do?"

MG: "Thinking about masturbating."

Friend: "Don't you have a boyfriend."

MG: "Just because I have a boyfriend doesn't mean I don't masturbate."

Friend: "How often do you have sex?"

MG: "I don't know - 5 times a week."

Friend: "So how often do you masturbate?"

MG: "About as many times a week as we've said 'masturbate in this conversation."

Friend: "Interesting."

MG: "Yup."

The ABC's of the XYZ's.

First off, today was weird. I went to Madison for the first time since the whole RS affair. I really haven't put a whole lot of thought into that catastrophe lately so I was actually intrigued when I realized I passed his exit with out even noticing. It wasn't until I was pulling into my lunch working meeting when I saw a billboard for his company that I took a gulp. And then I closed my eyes for a second and I had those flashes ... you know the kind that you saw on STC when Carrie was reliving her affair with Big when she was with Aidan ...



The crazy pinned against the wall, sexual anguish and grabbing, back arching, lips touching, breathing on your ear. And as I pulled into the parking spot, gasping for my can of soda, I touched my neck and there was more - except it dawned on me that it wasn't RS's face that I was seeing - yeah sure, it was moments with him, but all associated with body parts and feelings. And when it was a face - it was the BFs. Incredibly strange I must agree. But last night before I left I could feel his breathe on my neck and it was strangely wonderful but not in the sexual aggressive way life was with RS, in this sweet, feels like home comfort that I feel when I'm with the BF.

Okay, pukey gross. Going on the XYZ's...


Finally, a networking event that wasn't really a waste of my time. I saw Melissa Lavigne talk about Gen X, Y & Z-ers and it was PHENOMENAL. So random thoughts about your potential generation ...


Gen X-ers, born between 1965 & 1977.
- Have "Middle Child Syndrome," meaning that they often fear they aren't getting enough attention. Why? Well divorce rates went up to 50% when they were coming of age, meaning that they were often left at home, by themselves and in charge of siblings. They fear their voice isn't heard and turn to grassroots efforts to get it out there (hence the beginning of bloggers). You're also the smallest generation because you're parents are pre-baby boomers.

- They're pessimistic. Glass is 1/2 empty. Why? Well, they came to age in a time that wasn't all roses. Think the AIDS epidemic. You're raised by hippies that talk about free-love and sexual adventures and now you find out that you can do that - you just might die. The ozone layer was found to have a big-old hole, so the world you're living in might collapse. And by the way - there's no recycling at the time so that beer bottle or can you're drinking is going to destroy the world more.

- Quarter-Life Crisis. The term was actually coined specifically for Xers. You find out in your late 20's-early 30's that you're either still living on your parents couch because you pursued the Nirvana dream of living for the day and come to terms that you maybe should have sold out to the corporate world, or you sold out to the corporate world and wonder if that was a mistake since you're gobbled with responsibilities. Why? Because you came to age in a time where you were supposed to be distinct and you either went that way or not and now you challenge all your decisions.


Gen Y-ers, born between '78 & '95
- Your parents are most likely baby boomers, so you're huge. You've also been studied relentlessly by the media. There's 76 million of us and you still want an individual voice.

- Knowledge abundance. One of the smartest gens around, technology savvy, group-oriented & go-getters. Why? Technology savvy because you were raised with computers in schools and have adapted to changes, Group-Oriented because you grew up in a time where there wasn't just 1st & 2nd place, everyone won. Your parents stopped blaming your poor skills in school on you not studying and felt more so that the school didn't teach you correctly. You're used to social circles, a large network in fact. Adapted to changes, you're the generation of customization - because you were relentlessly studied the iPod, MySpace, Facebook, digital cameras were created for you. You've gotten things relentlessly connected to you since you were in pampers - you don't have a choice but to adjust to change at a rapid pace.

- Stressed Out. There's too much information coming at you. It's also not okay to be just a jock, just the valedictorian, just the artist. You need to be multi-talented. Colleges are harder to get into because everyone goes. You feel an overwhelming pressure to succeed.

- Wants to be famous. 65% of individuals believe they will have their 15 minutes of fame and with blogging and You-Tubing, it's actually not as far fetched as it may seem.

- Craves added-value. You just don't want water - you want vitamin water because it will bring you "balance," "focus," etc. You don't just want a cell phone that rings, you want the features - camera, video, V-Cast. You're more likely to purchase something that provides, even a false-sense, of added value. This isn't just in merchandise - it's in life. You want the person you're going to be with to not only be nice, but good looking, have a good job, have a good income, religious, saves little puppies on the side of the road, likes sports & long walks on the beach.


Gen Zers, these are the babies. Born from '96 to today.
- Unknowns. Projected 46 million population because they are the Xers kids.

- Like the X-ers they are seeing a decay in the world & the economy. School shootings, social destruction, 9/11.

- HUGE PRESSURES. Very much like the Y-ers, they can't just be smart, they have to be gifted. They can't just excel at one thing, they need to excel at EVERYTHING

- Structured. Because of high divorce rates they're over involved and used to structure. Activities like sports become surrogate parents. They crave structure and will succeed under it.

- Virtual ID. They've not only grown up with computers but they've been raised that technology is key. They have Wii characters and virtual stomping grounds for their stuffed animals. They're in bred into Second Generation. They must exist in the real world and the virtual one simultaneously.


My head is reeling right now with all the information sucked into a 2 hour presentation, the insights into people via generalized information, the formation of feelings based on the world and it's circumstances. I'm going through my list thinking, crap - she's an Xer so I should be doing this, or he's an Xer so I really should be doing this and not that, and I'm a Yer - am I really like that? What about those poor Zs ...

Updates.

The Chili was good. It required red pepper and tabasco, more chili powder and some other random seasonings, but I was proud of my efforts.

Our friend lost her baby last night.

I was actually sick on Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday from work - I took 1/2 days. I'm still clocking in over 45 this week. My favorite expression? "I wish you could go home but ..."

I still haven't gotten back my security deposit from my landlords and the $2.52 until next week isn't going to cut it. According to the stupid Wisconsin laws (including the one that said I STILL had to pay rent for a place I couldn't live), they have 21 days and I must have made a concerted effort to get the money back. So I had to call and leave a message and send a letter asking for them to return my money by the 21st. Wanna take bets on whether or not that call will get returned and whether or not the money will be in my hands by the 21st? Didn't think so.

I'm sitting at work right now waiting for a 7:00 event, 14 minutes left. I'll probably leave in a short few.

The relationship is going well. There's times I can't believe where I'm at. The other night he came over and I twisted my back at work, so with out even prompting he rubbed the sore spot. It's so weird having someone that makes you smile all the time - all though it's taken effort I must admit....

Alright, time to walk over. I hope this night ends soon!!

Chili, Chili, Chili

In my bout of domestic forth coming and for the sake of Heroes on HD, I've been making dinners on Monday night for me and BF. While the stroganoff could have won a prize, the chicken last week was a bit dry. This week it's chili - but he's got a different view than I do. He's more of a 4 alarm guy where I prefer just a zip. We'll see how it turns out! I made 1/2 the batch normally and 1/2 with tobasaco and green chili peppers, not to mention seasoning it up a bit with a tad more chili powder.

And because he's such a gentleman and eats even dry chicken saying it still tastes great - I'm bringing in the two batches to my official tester at work. I love making food for him because he's honest down to the punch. He'll tell me if the meat I used was too low-grade or if there's too much garlic (I'm a garlic nut).

So here's the recipe with my tweaks and I'll let you know tomorrow how it turned out ...

1 1lb Ground Beef (I bought angus ground beef and I like a heartier chili so I did 2 lbs)

1 Medium Onion (by the way, keeping your mouth shut does not prevent you from tearing contrary to the BF's advice)

2 Cans (10.75 oz each) Tomato Soup

1 Can (28 oz) Chopped Tomatoes (I bought 1 can of the tomatoes with green chili, 1 can of the Italian tomatoes and then just one petite cut tomatoes - mine has just a bit of the green chili, while his has the full can)

1 Can (16oz) Kidney beans - undrained (I bought light red kidney beans, I didn't know the difference between dark & light)

2 T Sugar

2 T Chili Powder

Macaroni

*Sautee the beef & onion until brown, drain the grease. (I didn't read this step so I cooked the beef, drained it and added the onions. Oops.)

Stir in remaining ingredients (minus the macaroni). Heat through. Add Macaroni. Simmer.

That's it - that's what it said. So I had to get clarification from my mom and it resulted in the news that the crock pot is actually cooking the chili as we speak (or I write & you read - if it's 2:10 Central Standard time where you're at).

I also seasoned the meat with steak seasoning and added minced onion & garlic while it sauteed. I put a bit in the chili pot as well. 2 T Chili powder didn't seem like a lot, so I put in 5. We'll see what happens.

It's been "simmering" on low for about an hour and it still doesn't taste spicy (my batch at least - his is on the stove and that one too doesn't seem to have much of a kick ... of course I'm all sinus infection-ed up right now so that could be part of the problem.

Taking it down a notch.

In between all my friends & family this weekend I've been running ragged. Every hour has been scripted to the minute so that everyone ends up happy. When I missed three different things yesterday because the dryer at my mom's was taking too long, I was freaked out and upset.

I was telling the BF about it when he got done with work and he said, "What about you?" I asked what he meant and he gently reassured me that while it's great that I'm there it doesn't take the place of me needing time for me.

So I took the morning off. We're supposed to be watching the Packer game, but instead I went home to read my blogs, postsecret, and put away laundry.

I think it's kind of insane that I need someone to remind me that it's okay to just book time for myself - but then again, I'm glad I do.

The amazement of technology these days.

I forgot to post about what has been happening lately.

#1 and my best friend is 5 months, 1 week pregnant. We are so thrilled, because this time it's a baby that we get to see, play with, be auntie and uncle.

But then, yesterday morning, it was 7:07am and I got a call from #1. "This is the emergency tree ..." Her water broke on Thursday night.

So we spent a lot of time at the hospital. Bringing in "real" food, magazines and entertainment. She's bed ridden for the next 48 hours. And as long as that clears, then the next 3 weeks. And after that? It's a C-section and she's a mommy.

And I'm an auntie.

And #1's an uncle.

I looked at her yesterday, "You know what this means?"

She smiled, though you can tell she was nervous.

"(A) We have to move up the baby shower. (B) You can DRINK at your baby shower. (C) No pregnancy pants with panels!" She laughed because last week's shopping spree for a slightly swollen belly left her in tears when she refused to buy pants with panels.

So I've been praying really hard that the baby makes it. She will be an amazing mom and she deserves it. We figured that the baby was just way too excited to meet me, #1 & AD that he had to come party with us now.

It's time to bust out the sweaters.

The air is finally crisp, the trees are almost barren. It's the nights of cuddling up close and seeing your breath in the fall air. It's packing away the flip flops (can't tell you how excited the BF is about me doing that) and breaking out the boots (even if they are hooker-esque). It's not too cold that I need a jacket, but I get to wear my scarves, including my favorite green one that R made me.

I love this time of year.

And did I mention the BF doesn't have his kid tonight? That means that he's going to the haunted house with me and the Js (and AD).

I should fill in the blanks.

That's what you get for a busy week. Sorry kids.

Okay, so the Heroes post was about 2 weeks ago. After soul searching (and lack of sleep on Monday), I realized that some of the things he said added up. He was wickedly upset and said that first of all, he really cared about me (which I believe), second of all - if he did want to cheat, he doesn't have time (which is true) - he's either with me, at work or with his kid. Third, he admitted to the beginning cheating. Fourth, both NG & his girl said the exact same story (little fishy to me). Fifth, he said that he knew I had been cheated on and he wasn't going to hurt me like that. All and all it really came down to what E told me that night when I was upset and then reiterated the next morning - I have to learn to trust him. Not only that, but many of my friends have commented on the puke-yness of our little looks to each other, and many of them sided with him and told me there was no way that he could be doing it. Which says a lot, because a good chunk have been through this before with me and don't want to see me get hurt.

All and all I realized that if I'm going to be in this for the long haul, I've got to stop thinking that he's everyone else. He's not at all like the normal douche bags, he's completely out of the box.

And he told me he'd prove it to me.

I told him he had 3 trust cards the night I met him and if he wanted to be with me, he had to know that he was down to one. He told me it wasn't fair to cash in one for NG's girl - he didn't break my trust, but if that was the only way to be with me, he'd take it.

And things have been wonderful since. It's like he upped the ante to prove to me that he cares. I'm almost glad this happened. He calls every day now, he holds me at night, he's there when I need him.

E said, "Fine, throw away this guy and be single again. It's your choice."

I'm choosing to not.

It used to matter a lot what people think, and now I've realized that the only winning card hand here is what I think. And I do think he's amazing.

A kiss is a kiss, as a kiss is a kiss.

He told me not to kiss him last week because he was sick, I insisted because he's an amazing kisser. And now, I've got a little bit of a scratchy throat. Ask me while I'm sick and I'll still tell you it was worth it.

That's kind of the nice thing about us.

At 10:00 last night I laid in bed trying to sleep and wondering why no one wanted to talk to me - I left several voicemail messages to friends. When it rang, I looked over and it was him. We normally don't talk on Wednesday's because he has his son. At the end of the conversation he said, "Maybe when can go out for a drink after you get done working tomorrow?"

It's this abnormal sweetness that I'm not used to, so of course this morning I'm freaking out - is he going to break up with me? Why does he want to go for a drink? And then I realize that I made myself a promise, I'd trust him - and a drink is just a drink.

Oops.

I bit him. While we were sleeping, I was dreaming and I bite him. How fucking embarrassing. The worst part? It was a sex dream with RS and we often engaged in racier activites than the 2 positions I have with the BF.

Oops.

Heroes last monday.

I didn't sleep a wink at all. I cried all night. I called my boss at 3am. She told me to not hurry in - that I needed to sleep. But I needed to get my brother to school in the morning. So I packed him up at 7am, took him over and went to unload E's truck so I could return it.

I called work at 8am. I said I'd be in a bit, but was urged to take some sleeping pills - I couldn't be effective at this point. I cried for another hour and finally took two pills at 9:30. At 11:00 my phone rang, disturbing me from my drug induced sleep. My eyes hurt almost as much as my stomach and my skin was dry from all the salty tears. I didn't even look at the Caller ID. It was him.

"Hey, I got off for an extra long lunch to help you unpack the truck."

"It's already done." I said.

"Did you sleep?"

"I had just fallen asleep and you called."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure at this point."

"This is ridiculous. I can't believe this."

"I just need to think."

"Will you come over for Heroes tonight?"

"I honestly don't know."

Silence. "Please try to go back to sleep."

"I have to go to work now."

The day was just a blaze. There's no emotions at work, so when asked I just looked and said, "I'm smiling right now." I just went about the day as normal.

My boss pulled me aside, "I saw how he was with you - he's not cheating on you. You have to learn to trust or you just need to move on."

He admitted to sleeping with other people when we were first together and the truth is, I don't think he has time. So I decided I would trust him at this point.

He called at 7:00 to see if I was coming over for Heroes. I explained that I needed to make dinner for my brother, but he was welcome to drive out to Franklin to see me. He agreed. We had a lovely dinner, he brought dessert. We snuggled on the couch. And he brought flowers.

At the end of the night I kissed him and it felt like home. So while I'm leary, I'm trying to learn to trust him.

Blogging from HOME!

So I might be stealing - a little. But until the security deposit from the old place is returned, stealing it will be.

Alright, so it's been awhile, shame on Milwaukee Girl. And you've missed me - maybe. So let's try to recap the last week and a half with out boring you ...

Last Sunday started out bad - so I should've figured it would stay that way, but optimistic me saw the sun above the clouds and kept thinking "this is it! I'm outta here!" At 7am my little bro was supposed to help me move; however, when I called his piss-tired newly 21 year old butt told me off. So I went to pack by myself. I got a couple loads over by 10am, a decent amount of cleaning and I called him again. He finally agreed in exchange for drinks and the game - of course, I miscalculated my time and that left him the effort of one box into E's truck and off we went to the BFs. When the BF called at 11:30, I told him my frustration and being the sweetheart he is, he said after the game he'd help me out.

So it was off to the brand new sports bar - Fanatics - in the third ward. It's any sports fan's wet dream, the guys did such a nice job. Equipped with pool tables, dart boards, an arcade room, a tournament room, over 20 TV's, a lounge-y area and a bar, you really can't say no. It was their very first weekend and R graciously came to check it out - being that she is the largest female sports fan I know.

Of course, the BF was in love with the bar. Excited by the new surroundings and amazed that R was out - he told me he'd be staying for the Colts game. Nice. Pissed and my brother saying he was bored, we packed up and left before the game was even over for the Pack.

At about 5:30, and at the urging of R, the BF called - "Sweetie, do you want me to help you?" Me? "Nope, I got it - enjoy the game."

At 7:00 while trying to get up the energy to go up and down stairs for the 100th time he showed up, "I thought you needed help." And in the next 1/2 hour we knocked out bringing 4 pieces of furniture, 5 trash bags and an old light to the garbage - got the truck and the pontiac set. He kissed me, telling me I needed to relax and we should bowl with NG & his girl.

We got home and, as always, NG and his girl were running late. He offered me a shower and laid in his bed to watch the game. I came out and nature took it's course - talk about a guy's wet dream - sex and football. Upon being lazy, we neglected to get dressed until NG and his girl came pounding up the stairs. I threw on my jeans to protect my man's naked body and stopped them at the top. They were insanely drunk.

So it was off to the bowling alley. Exhausted I really wanted to go home but they were having fun. That is WERE. Until NG's girl was on her 9th shot and so was he. When she's drunk, she's emotional. When he's drunk he's a jealous ass. Regular bowling antics left her in the bathroom crying, me stressed out from the scenario - NG trying to fit a guy that had him by a foot and 200 lbs, his girl running out of the bar - me chasing her in the rain. Our good friend feared for her safety and kept his eye on her. One more round in the bathroom I urged her to leave NG. That's when the last thing I thought I would hear came out of her mouth.

"I need to tell you that the BF has cheated on you."

What? Wait? Huh?

I gathered her up, piled NG into the car with her, looked out the window all the way home. Pulled away from his trying-to-comfort touch, somewhere between insane pissed off-ness and wanting to burst into tears. A million things went through my head -

She's drunk
When could he have cheated on me?
Well, I was in Vegas.
But we text messaged the whole time.
And I don't see him on Wednesdays and Thursdays because he has the kid.
And he does disappear when we're out and I often find him outside on the phone.
But he tells me it's his ex.
But then again, that's what he's telling me.
She's drunk.
She doesn't lie when she's drunk.
Why wouldn't she tell me before? Oh yeah, because she's a leach and so is her boyfriend, so they obviously needed a place to stay.
How could he do that to me?
I just want to go home.
I just want to cry.
But I do want to know.

It was raining, pouring, when we got home. I said I'd take her with me, but the cars were full of stuff. So I carefully emptied the Pontiac's front seat, warding off any help the man I thought I was falling in love with was offering. "I can do it!" I finally snapped.

"You're tired and over extended, let me help."

"Just go get her. It's almost done."

He emerged from the house, confused at everything. She got naked in the livingroom and just walked into NG's room and passed out. Looks like she isn't going home with me. I went back in the house to urge her to come one last time, but it was helpless. I went to the porch, followed by the BF. "MG - what's wrong? We all need sleep. You need to go home and sleep. But I need to know what's wrong."

I got out a cigarette, lit it under the cover of his porch. Took a deep long drag. I watched the smoke come out of my mouth, shivering. I took another.

"So how long have you been cheating on me? And how many times?"

I couldn't even look over at him, the words coming out of my mouth sickened my stomach. "What?! I haven't ... where is this coming from?"

"She said it. She said she's seen it, she's heard it, she's met them."

"But I haven't. I swear, I haven't had sex with anyone since we've become boyfriend & girlfriend."

"A. it isn't just sex and B. I can't do this again."

"Listen, MG, really - I haven't. I did, I mean. In the beginning. When we first met. And then there was the six weeks, but we reconnected. And since that night you slept at my house - I haven't."

"I can't do this again. I just can't."

"But I didn't do anything! I swear! I haven't had sex with anyone but you!"

"It isn't just sex. I'm invested in this - Christ, I was single for 4 years because I couldn't trust anyone and now, now, this?"

"You're not listening. I didn't. I haven't. I know it's not just sex. And I know your past, and I wouldn't do that."

"I have to go home."

"Yeah, you should. You need rest."

"Are you kidding me? I'm not sleeping at all tonight."

The cigarette was soaked as I walked out into the down pour, still holding back the gapping sobs that were diligentely stuck in my throat.

"Heroes tomorrow at my place?" He tried to beckon me one more time from his porch.

"Probably not." I shut the car door and plugged in my phone since it was beeping "LOW BATTERY." I turned on the lights and I couldn't hold back any more. It hurt so bad.

Friday.

It's our Open House, which of course means things are chaotic, and I'm not feeling that awesome because my sales blow, not to mention that everyone at the office will have their significant other here and mine will be working. But I'll just keep doing Jell-O shots and no one will be the wiser.

About 8:00 I'm outside smoking when my left breast rang (I lacked a purse, so used my little black's dress slight tightness as a substitute) and it was the BF telling me he had just gotten out of work and wanted to join me and meet all my clients and friends.

He came out in his jeans and button down, looking extremely hot. We proceeded to consume a good amount of alcohol and at the end of the night his plea-ing for me to spend the night resulted in me picking up the dog I was sitting for and heading over to his house ... to find him completely passed out.

Packing Day.

Today is the big day to just buckle down and pack everything once and for all. Armed with boxes from E's move, I'm hoping to get everything in boxes and all the furniture broken down and in the back room between 4:00 and 8:00. Probably a bit too much? I don't disagree, I think I might be short on time.

The good news is I did find a U-Haul for Saturday's big move day at 2:30. I'll have until 7:00. I'm hoping with the 4 guys I have helping that it will be plenty of time, but who the heck knows these days.

I am SO looking forward to being out of there, and more looking forward to the walk-thru at the end where I make the piece o shit people sign a nice piece of paper saying that my security deposit will be returned in full.

I'm still trying to get the Consumer Advocacy people to call back and give me the damn amount of money that they owe me - I really just don't think that it's right to pay $575 for a place you can't live .... and a place that still isn't liveable, because it still has no ceiling!

The fun of moving ...

It's so much fun to move when you're apartment still isn't fixed and your landlord keeps telling you it will be on certain days. It's a nice b*tch to get a note saying "We're hopefully fixing it today (Sunday) or tomorrow (Monday) so if you could please refrain from being here since the whole ceiling is coming down, I'd appreciate it." Then you aren't there Sunday or Monday (your packing days) and come to find out Tuesday morning that there's still a giant whole in your kitchen... (it's been 36 days - but I'm not counting!).

I'm really hoping they don't pull the card this weekend, since it's the big move days because I will tell them no and stick to my guns about it. I've got about 6 boxes packed and a long way to go.

Now that I have a moment.

You almost need a vacation from a vacation to Vegas. Whew!

THE APARTMENT AKA CRAP HOLE W/O a CEILING
Turns out I had to pay $575.00 to live in the shit hole. I got too tired of fighting. My favorite part is the note that said they'd have it done Monday before I left. Then on Thursday I got one that said it would be done Monday while I was gone, then on Monday I got a call from my male landlord saying Thursday, so I shouldn't come home and make other arrangements. On Thursday night it said Saturday. They even told the building inspector Saturday. On Sunday afternoon she wrote a note saying it would be done on Sunday or Monday (today). So I'm wasting sometime with the puppy I'm sitting so that it's 6:30 when I get there to pack up a couple things, shower (use their damn water!) and get some clothes ready for tomorrow. Then it's off to the boyfriend's.

THE BOYFRIEND
For all those waiting on the Match update. He never responded to Nikki's wink or email - so that's a good sign. And it says he's been inactive for over 3 weeks. I never adressed it, because I lack a spine. While I was on vaca, I got those wonderful text messages saying he missed me - and I really did miss him too. On Thursday night was a big awards banquet for Advertising so I went there planning on leaving at 7:00 to see him since he'd have his son till about 4:00. At 7:30 I texted him that I was leaving, he informed me his ex-wife needed him to take his son until around 8:30. I relecutantly stayed longer, exhausted from the lack of sleep in Vegas and home from Vegas. By 8:30 I hadn't heard from him, so I left on my own. 1/2 way home to the 'View, he called and asked what I was doing, "Driving home." And then he asked me to come over, so I did. It was so great to see him, we made out like the first night we met. I didn't even care that he tasted like onions. Of course NG was around, so we scampered away for a little loving and when we were done we chatted a bit before being told to go to the bar. I got my tired ass up and joined them for a little while, before passing out in his arms at 2am.

Friday was almost the same routine, I needed to get ready for my mom's surprise birthday party and that included going to the restaurant to pick out the menu. It was packed, so we dined at the Irish Pub by work and then tipped back a couple cocktails. I was still exhausted, so when we got back he stayed up and drank as I slept soundly for the first time in a week.

Then Saturday rolled around. No one showed to the party and then I was informed that my sister wasn't coming -she was throwing her own afterwards. That meant my brother wasn't coming either. So much for 33 people - it was more like 15 and most of them family. I was almost in tears, I begged the BF on his VM to get over there at 4:30. He showed up at 7 - I wasn't happy and I had consumed a bit too much alcohol to fulfill my bill. We tried another bar and he was stand offish, so I left.

On Sunday we went to a bar to see the game. I still wasn't in a mood to deal with anything. I had slept like crap at my apartment in the 'View, no longer adjusted to the noises that went on. Then it was off to Franklin to dog sit, then back to the 'View for the game. When he finally arrived about 12:00, he informed me that he'd have to go get his son after the game - so much for that day I thought we could just hang out - and I informed him I wouldn't be bowling. I invited him to a cook out at the house, but he declined. After he left I almost cried.

Relaxing with Rach, G, NG and his girl while cooking steaks and watching the Bears vs teh Cowboys, he finally called at 9:00. He was headed out to Franklin. I just wanted him to come to me for once - and he was. Except for some minor freak outs by a party that was way too intoxicated, it was nice. After everyone left we just sat there in eachother's arms and he asked if I was going to watch Heroes, I said of course. Then he gave up Monday night football officially, just this one night, so we could see it together.

Ugh. I'm falling in love.

Kinds of friends.

I've recently decided that my friends can be divided into certain catagories ...

"I'll be there when ever you need me - as long as I don't have plans, my boyfriend doesn't have plans, something doesn't come up, etc"
They have the best intentions, but alas, not so good with the follow through.

"I'll be there because, you know, you pick up the tab."
Lately these kinds of friends are pissing me off. Case in point, they were invited to my mom's birthday party - a $250 tab. They came late, still drank on it. In case did shots on it. We go to the next bar, I buy the first round because I can't stand that the BF is whining about the waitress, put the drinks down, NG asks "who's paying for dinner?" BF replies, "MG has an open tab." I looked at him, "I paid cash." I left shortly after. Pissed.

"I'll be there."
People like Biz, R & #1. It doesn't matter what is going on, they'll cancel if they have too. I mean, can't argue with kids like that.

Luck.

You're either lucky or you're not right?

I was pretty lucky in Vegas over the weekend, until that dipsh*t landlord ruined my vacation by calling on Monday to inform me I owed him $375 more for rent and that my ceiling wouldn't be repaired until Thursday. Then I withheld funds for good times, but it was still a great time.

We saw Thunder from Down Under, what a riot. It was extremely entertaining and way worth the over $100 for a corny male strip show. NOTE TO MEN: Why do you think grabbing your crotch is entertaining? It's not that cute looking and really, women are just as turned on in your boxer briefs than butt naked shaking your half limp cock in their face. But I digress.

The best part of the show was when my friend's grandma got called on stage for the lap dance and proceeded to grab his butt - to which he responded by shoving her hand down his pants ... we thought she might have a heart attack but she took it in good measure.

So while I didn't leave Vegas with any money, it was a great time with the mom.

LUCKY IN LOVE
I'm riding the edge now, afraid any second I might slip and say to him that I love him, because I do. I haven't felt this happy in years. To have someone call and say they miss you while you're on vacation is amazing. Then to see them again afterwards and feel like a school girl who's crush just pecked her on the cheek is even better.

Seriously people, this is good stuff. It's hard adjusting to a guy with a kid, there's a lot of times you can't say or do things like you could with a guy with out one, but his son is good stuff too.

He does something that no one else can, he makes me feel wonderful.

And it's been 4 months and he's still the best kisser around.


NOT SO LUCKY WITH MY LANDLORDS
I believe in karma, I do and all I can say is that it's about to bite them in the ass hard core. I've paid $575 for rent in an apartment I can't live in only to continue to have my privacy invaded. AND I STILL HAVE NO ROOF.

They'll get theirs and if they don't according to karma-tic standards, my lawyer will take them out in court.

LUCKY IN GENERAL
I have a good job, I make decent money (although there's never enough), and at 6:00AM on Tuesday (so that's 8:00 Milwaukee time), I got a phone call saying I got my loft. So now I'm feeling pretty darn lucky that I have a place to live in two weeks without having to move home.

Luck is a funny thing.

OH! And even more lucky? Wearing the Pants is back!!

A Plea to Wearing the Pants

I want to be invited, you can't take my blog away!

What friends DON'T say.

Last night was a big client party and in tow were several baseball and football players. The BF is a huge sports fan so I called and left a voicemail rubbing it in his face, "Hey babe, just wanted you to know that these guys are super nice and they send their love." I proceed to also have them autograph the night's giveaway because I think it'll be a nice gift.

Now, it's pretty much the last night I can go out and I'm pretty in the bag, so I start calling people to see what they are up to and tell them about who I met. No one picks up. NG calls back, I tell him jokingly that I'll have to break up with the BF because I'm in love with Chris Capuano. "What does that have to do with me?" he says.

For a guy that sure enjoys that I pay for everything when we go out and feels free to put shit on my tab with out asking, you'd think he could give me a little "awesome" or something.

I told him that I just wanted to tell someone.

Jerk.

Thank god for Vegas!

Mathematics.

This was fun, here's my calculations for rent payment in September, remember there's an additional $158 some dollars for the groceries that got ruined ...

Being that both you and the roofer that came to inspect the premises after the ceiling fell said that there are raccoons in the attic and mold on the boards, and that the damage is still visible with the tarp in the ceiling, that leaves only two out of the five rooms habitable because they have doors (although, doors don’t keep mold spores out only raccoons).

My total rent is currently $650.00, that means each room is worth $130.00 (this is actually not accurate since the 2 rooms with doors are much smaller areas). Since two rooms are habitable due to doors, that brings the rent owed for September to $260.00.

Since the ceiling fell in August and I had already paid my rent, I can abate the prepaid rent for the week of August 25-August 31. If rent is $650.00, that breaks down to $162.50 per week. This means that each room is worth $32.50 a week. Since I prepaid for five rooms and only two are habitable, the rent I am owed from August is $97.50.

After subtracting these items, my total owed to you is $3.57.


Very. Nice.

Now that I have a bit of time ...

9:00am - Cop arrives at office.

We chat about what has happened. So here it is. This past weekend, she enters my apartment without consent, cleans the fridge and throws out everything. Then, according to her letter, went through my closets, my bedroom, my bathroom & my backroom. She details in the letter how she believes I need to clean & organize better, that she took the time to put some items in order and that she noticed the cat had peed on a blanket in back (which was in a CLOSED plastic container so I could take it to the dry cleaners). Fearing that he had done it to everything, she removes 5 blankets, 4 pillows and puts them outside on her patio. SIDE NOTE: I had one pile of towels on the livingroom floor and a laundry basket full of clothes. All rooms w/doors were shut.

Sunday comes along and I get the letter. I inform her in a note myself that she needs to give me 12 hours notice and that she has completely violated my privacy. I WILL be out October 1st.

I call her and her husband to inform them that I'm done, I'm sick of my rights being violated and perhaps they need to look into tenant law. I've turned in my notice.

Monday I stop home because it's raining. Sure enough, my kitchen is flooded. I take video of everything, including me locking doors, turning off fans and lights. I pack two boxes and head to Franklin. I say hi to the Bumpkin, proceed for football at the BF's house and then hightail it to the dog I'm sitting.

Tuesday I come back, video camera in hand. I notice the top lock is not locked. I take video as documented proof that she has AGAIN, gone through things. I pack more. It's 2am, no call from the BF. Might as well sleep in the shit hole.

It's 7am, I'm in the shower. I hear pounding. Shampoo is in my hair. I answer the door in a bathrobe, it's my landlord. "Listen, I've informed you that you owe me 12 hours notice by law."

"No I don't. I own the property, I can enter when I want." Puts down the tenant law papers with a section highlighted. People enter my apartment. I proceed to the bathroom, put on my pajamas and head to work. I'm done.

I call my dad who has a property landlord. She informs me that my rights have been violated, so I need to (a) Call Neighboorhood services - already done, (b) file a complaint and call health department - already done, (c) file a police report for breaking and entry and theft of belongings.

So I did. The officer comes and I review everything that happens. He informs me that it's a grey area because I haven't paid rent and I haven't been living there. I inform him, I'm not going to get sick or potentially bitten by a racoon by living there. There's a HOLE IN MY CEILING. He says that he'll file the report, but doesn't know the end results due to the situation. He leaves. It's 10:30am.

By 12:30 I ask a co-worker to go with me to see the building inspector. It's 12:53 when I'm just up the road. The inspector calls me, he's there and ready to go. We head up to the apartment, his mouth drops. "This is NOT good."

He informs me that really, the hole is the least of his concerns. There's insulation, there's mold. There's a tarp for godsake that she mis-installed next to wiring. The place could go up in smoke. And please do not turn on any lights for that reason. He also records that I have no windows in my kitchen, that my smoke alarms don't work, that the lock on the back is installed incorrectly and serves no purpose. Then he informs me that while he was waiting he noticed several violations outside the house as well. This has become a head priority case. He'll get back to me in a bit.

Finally, I'm validated. Thank God. I'm not crazy. NS calls back to inform me the place is untentable and as long as she'll let me out of the lease, I can move out under no penalty. Which she agrees too. They also inform me that she's been given a 5-day working order to fix everything or she'll be fined.

Good thing I leave for Vegas soon. Bad thing? I still need to find a place by October 1st.

So now it's a hell of a lot of packing before Vegas and trying to procure the right people to help me move items out of the apartment. I will leave a few items in there since I feel no need to move things to Franklin and back to Bay View in two weeks. It's just not going to happen.

I have to help Biz move tonight at 6:30, then I'm taking a friend with me to pack more. I'm hoping to clear up a lot of boxes that I can use Erica's truck to remove on Friday.

So much for seeing my boyfriend before I leave.

I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

Let's start here.

Friday, go home. Call landlord, fridge is broken.

Saturday, stop home, grab mail.

Sunday, go home to put Packers clothes on before heading to BFs. Find: 9 page letter.

9 page letter details my landlord going through my rooms & things and removing property. Me? Irate. Leave note saying that I will be moving out by October 1st.

Monday, take video of illegal entry by landlord. Clean up after rain.

Tuesday, go home to pack and potentially get laid (BF lives down the road). BF doesn't call, it's 2am. I go to bed at the apartment.

Wednesday, 7am in shower. Landlord pounds on door. Insurance adjusters are here to look at ceiling. I inform her that she needs to give me 12 hours notice, she informs me she can enter at will and gives me the tenant law.

7:25am. I'm crying from being stressed out. Call my dad, get lawyer.

8:00am. Talk to lawyer, I have been violated. Call Neighboorhood services, call health department, call cops for illegal removal of materials.

8:25am. Call police department.

9:00am. Cop arrives at office.

Updates.

Dunt, Dunt, Duh! At this time next week I'll be in the wonderful, warm town of Las Vegas at a roulette table, putting all the money on 8 and 15 sipping a Captain & Diet.

Update on items...

My leg is healing well from the mishap on home plate - my ego is doing much better as well.

Dogsitting is fabulous, but I still miss being in one bed and would die for a good night's sleep. I think the poor boy has an ear infection, but we cleaned them up pretty well last night so I'm hoping it helps.

The whole sister fiasco is still a fiasco, I should have an answer tomorrow. The truth is, now I don't care, I figure I should save money anyhow since I'm looking to move.

Which brings me to the apartment. I still have no ceiling and the landlords aren't pleased that I haven't paid rent. On the phone, one actually told me that she couldn't afford to have it done correctly, so a guy is going to do it on the side. If the fridge fiasco didn't end my want to stay there, that sure did.

I'm still looking for a place and having difficulties really falling in love with anywhere. The loft would be really nice, but I'm a tad-bit wish washy on that too. I'm not IN LOVE with it, plus it would be a bitch to move my sh*t up 3 levels. Then again, we had to lift everything up two levels to get where I'm at now, so it might not be as bad as I think. I just want a home for me and the bumpkin.