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You may see things differently, but this is how I view my life.



I’m trying so hard to be strong. And I was doing a pretty good job until I came home yesterday and my parents wanted to talk to me about what happened. Apparently, my mom had called Jerry yesterday to get his side of the story. He confirmed most of what I told my parents but made it sound like I just freaked out on him. I did freak out on him, he was restraining me! That FREAKS ME OUT!!!! My ex-husband used to do that to me and I can’t handle it. Then he drives me to a remote location where nobody can see or hear us. YES I WAS FREAKED OUT!!!! And YES I FOUGHT BACK!!!

I swear if someone were ever to kidnap me or try to rape me or anything bad like that, I don’t have it in me to just lay there and let it happen, I’m a fighter. When my sister and I were kids and we got into a fight, I would never back down even though I knew she could kick my ass. It’s not in my personality to go down without a fight.

Anyways, so my dad basically told me he didn’t want me moving in just yet. That I could stay there, and by the weekend we’d talk about what I was going to do. He also thought that I over reacted in calling the cops on Jerry because he could lose everything and he didn’t think it was fair of me to do that to him.

I told my dad (crying almost hysterically at that point out of disbelief and hurt) that Jerry had no right to take me anywhere but home. All he had to do was take me home and everything would have been ok. But no, he had to basically keep me prisoner and fight with me and keep me from leaving. I just wanted to get away from him. And the more he kept me from getting away from him, the more I fought with him to get away. I was scared.

My mom was much more understanding and said she would have been scared too. She was supportive and loving. My dad said that I probably got too emotional and over reacted. I cried for most of the night and it really sucked because I got to see the kids for the first time in a week and I was a complete emotional wreck. I was able to hold it together enough to help them with their homework.

Thank god my sister came home shortly after my talk with my parents. She always makes me laugh. She was there helping me help the kids with their homework and her and my son started singing this song “A is for Apple, B is for Banana, C is for Cat” well they got to “P is for Purse” and when ever I’m around my sister, and the word Purse comes up, I have to repeat it but hold my tongue so it sounds like “puss”. Well, I thought I did it indiscreetly, but my son saw me and imitated what I did. My sister and I were laughing so hard, she started farting and rolled off the bed. I started crying, not because I was sad, but because I was laughing so hard. I really needed that. Then my daughter was like “What’s so funny?” I just said “Oh, your brother made us laugh then Laurie started farting when she was laughing and that made us laugh even harder”.

Jerry just called me this morning while I’m writing this blog entry, and I’m already emotional enough. He said he couldn’t understand why I’m being so mean to him. The thing is I HAVE TO! If I don’t give him the cold shoulder, I’m going to end up falling for him again. I know that’s not what’s best for me or the kids. I’m really trying to stay strong and keep it together. But after I hung up on him, I broke down. The only one I’ve told about what’s happened here at the office is Bobbie. She sits next to me and saw me start crying after I hung up with Jerry. She came over and tried to console me and brought me some tissue. I’m so lucky to be surrounded my people that love and care for me. And I’m very grateful for all of your kind words and support. Lord knows I really need it!



As a result of the continuous hair pulling that Jerry so unkindly gave me, I had to have most of my hair cut off. I've been letting it grow out for a while now and it was getting pretty long. But my hair got so badly damaged from Jerry pulling the shit out of my hair over and over, that I now have sholder length hair. I don't know what I'm more depressed about now. The fight with Jerry and losing my hopes and dreams about our future together or the loss of my beautiful long hair.

I didn't have time for my hairdresser to style my hair since I was on my lunch hour that became a lunch hour and a half. So I put it up in a clip that barely is holding my short hair in. And instead of a long piece of hair coming out from the top of the clip, I have a very short peice that barely comes out from the top of the clip. I really miss my long hair. I'm sure it will look better once I'm able to style it, and I'm sure that's the first thing I'm going to do when I come home from work. Well, after I kiss and hug my kids since I haven't seen them in a week.

I have to admit, my hair looks healty now. It was time for a hair cut anyways, I just wasn't going to cut it this short. I swear that bastard will PAY! (Insert evil laugh here)


Finally Had Enough

Like I've said before in matters of the heart, my heart usually takes control over what my head is telling me to do. Jerry and I got into a HUGE fight on Friday night and I came out injured. I'm talkin’ black eye, bruises, swollen knuckles from him bending my fingers back. He didn't sock me but we were struggling and I got my ass kicked.

I filed a report with the police and because I have injuries, it doesn't matter if I press charges or not, it's in the DA's hands now. He's going to jail.

I know I should of left last time after our trip to Laughlin. And things really got better after that. In fact, they've been better than ever this last week.

I had a really hard time with this yesterday. I spent the day at my friend Rosa's watching movies. Then I came to my parent’s house last night and hung out with my sister. We went shopping and saw "Fighting Temptations" at the movies. It was a great movie to watch on a Sunday. It was just like being in a Gospel Church.

Being with friends and family will be my biggest support getting through this. Jerry has been leaving me pretty much alone and has come to terms that we are breaking up. He's still doing the whole "I love you so much, I don't want to lose you" song and dance. But it's not going to work this time. I'm going to stay strong. And if I even sound like I'm thinking about going back to the bastard, please someone knock some sense into me!



Tuesday night I tried to call my kids over at my ex’s house. (It’s his week to have them). His dad answered the phone and told me that they were at a Barbeque. This was at 7:30 pm. So I figured that I’d call back at 9, the kids should be home by then since it’s a school night. So I called back and Fuck Head’s dad answered again. I said, “Are the kids back yet?” and he said “No” then hung up on me before I got the chance to tell him to have them call me when they get back. I had Jerry call back at 9:30 and all he got was the voice mail.

Fuck head has done this before. About a month ago, he took the kids over to his friend’s house and had them call me from there at 9:30. I was livid because they should have been home in bed.

I was really worried that the kids weren’t going to get enough sleep, and I was also thinking that if Fuck head is at a Barbeque, he’s drinking. And if he’s drinking, then he’s driving the kids home intoxicated. He has a history of drinking and driving, so my concerns are valid. Also, he doesn’t have a drivers license because of his DUI’s. He got 2 in April of 1999 that he hasn’t taken care of.

Jerry and I went to bed. I couldn’t sleep. I was tossing and turning for about an hour until I woke up Jerry and said that I wanted to drive by Fuck Head’s house and see if he was back yet. Jerry said “Let’s Go!” It was about 10:30 when we drove by. Fuck Head’s car wasn’t there. So we decided to try to find his friend Julie’s house. The kids have always said that she lived close by, and Jerry and I had a guess about the area she lived in. So we cruised around, looking for Fuck Head’s car. We drove around for about ½ hour, then decided to go back to his house and see if they had shown up yet. It was 11 pm and his car still wasn’t there. We drove around back to see if maybe he parks his car in the back. It wasn’t there. We drove around a little bit more before giving up. I told Jerry that I wanted to go to the court in the morning to file for emergency custody.

That’s exactly what I did yesterday morning. Only they told me that I wouldn’t be able to get the emergency custody because the kids haven’t been physically harmed, but I would have a good chance of getting a quick hearing. It usually takes 8 weeks for a hearing, I would get one in about 2 – 3 weeks.

My goal isn’t to take the kids away from Fuck Head. My goal is to get in the drivers seat and have the power so tell him that he can’t have the kids out past 9 on school nights, that he can’t drive the kids in his car until he gets a drivers license and car insurance. And if it’s court ordered, he has no say in it.



I stopped to get gas yesterday after work. I was in the process of putting the gas in my tank when I decided that I wanted to get a candy bar. So I get my wallet and take the keys out of my ignition. I noticed a car had pulled behind me and was waiting for me to finish getting gas. So being the polite person I am, and the fact that the gas was just about done pumping, I decided that it would be best if I just pull away from the gas pump and mark next to the mini mart. So I put my keys and my wallet back in the car, locked the door, and removed the nozzle from my gas tank.

Yes, go back and read that last sentence if you have to, and you will see that I locked my keys and wallet in the car. Smart. I was a good 20 minutes from home and all I had was my receipt for the gas. I went into the mini mart and explained to the ladies who worked there how stupid I was and asked if I could use their phone. They were hesitant at first, but I explained that I didn’t even have any money to use the pay phone because my wallet was in the car. They finally let me use the phone and I called Jerry to come help me. Luckily he has a key to my car.


Manic Monday

Lot’s of things happened this weekend, so I’ll try to sum it up as quickly as possible.

Friday was drama with our neighbors. We plotted, and are still plotting on different ways to annoy the hell out of them and to make them realize that they are being extremely petty about the cat shit in their front yard.

Saturday, found a Sir Mix-A-Lot CD with the song Baby Got Back along with 11 other great hits, and blasted it as loud as possible, over and over with all the doors and windows open, until 10 pm.

Jerry decided that he needed to get the dent out of the car trailer that is in the back yard. This trailer happens to have a metal frame and is located approximately 20 feet from the neighbors’ bedroom window. So he got a hammer, and gave the trailer a few good bangs. I went temporarily def for about 10 seconds because the noise he made was so flippen loud!

After 10, put the “spot light” on neighbors window so we could have some light outside, while we played darts in the garage. Didn’t really need the spot light, but it was funny anyways. Then we played darts while sucking down cocktails. We got louder and louder with each cocktail.

(side note: The kids were in bed and fast a sleep by this time)

Sunday we went to the San Diego Zoo with the kids and Jerry’s daughter and her loser boyfriend who couldn’t even pay the $20 to get in, so Jerry’s daughter had to pay his way in. He’s another story all in it’s self. Anyways, the Zoo was GREAT! Most of the animals were on exhibit and some even put on a show for us. The Panda’s did summersaults and I swear one of them waved to the audience. The female gorilla’s ganged up on the male gorilla and chased him all over their enclosure. My son would run back and forth following the male gorilla. He loved it.

We got home and saw that our neighbors had put up a fence to separate the property lines in the front yard. We laughed because they probably spent a few hundred bucks and the entire day putting up the fence. I guess we really pissed them off. Any ideas on how to keep an outdoor cat from crapping on other peoples lawn?


Bullshit Car Registration Taxes

As you should know, if you live in California, (and if you don't then you're about to find out) Governor (and I write that title very loosely) Grey Davis tippled our car registration taxes. I for one think that this is total and complete bullshit and I'm joining the campaign to stop this. If you think this is total and complete bullshit too, you can also do your part to help stop this.

Go To NoCarTax.Com and sign up to get a petition that you can have your friends and family sign, to stop the car tax from going through. We need 800,000 signatures to stop the car tax. And Thank You For Your Support.

Workin’ For The Weekend

TGIF! This has been one stressful week. I’m so happy that it’s Friday. We actually don’t have ANY plans until Sunday! We’re going to take the kids to the San Diego Zoo. But other than that, Nothing, Nada, Zilch planned. Which is very unusual for us. But who’s to say that nothing will come up.

So I’m just going to keep this short and sweet. Hope you all have an awesome weekend!


Spanking Part 2

Back in May, my kids were supposed to be cleaning their room. I checked on them several times to make sure that they were doing what they were supposed to be doing, and every time I checked on them, they were messing around and NOT picking up their mess. I warned them (after getting on them several times) that next time I come in, and they aren’t picking up their things, that I would spank them.

I waited about 15 minutes and went in their room to check on them. And whattaya know, they were messing around AGAIN. So I told them to follow me to the kitchen where I took out a wooden spoon and smacked them both once on the bottom. I didn’t smack my son very hard but I got my daughter harder than I meant to. I wanted to just leave a sting on their bottoms to get their attention and so they would know that I meant business.

After I swatted their butts, I took them in their room and explained why I spanked them so that they would understand. And I apologized to my daughter for hitting her harder than I meant to. I felt really, really bad about it because she is a very good girl most of the time and rarely needs any sort of discipline. This was the first time I had ever used anything other than my hand.

To me, spankings are the last resort. I don’t spank my kids hardly ever. I mean they get spanked MAYBE 1 or 2 times a year. And when I do spank them, it’s because I’ve given them several chances to change their behavior and they continue to not follow my directions and they are acting up. That saying “This is going to hurt me more than it will you” truly applies when I spank my kids.

Like I said, I was spanked with a homemade paddle when I was a kid. And my dad didn’t just swat my butt, he bent me over his knee and gave me 3 to 5 swats depending on how bad I was. When I spank my kids, it’s usually with an open hand on the bottom, which usually doesn’t even faze them. I would NEVER spank them any other place than right on the butt.

I know spanking is controversial and some parents my take it too far. But I was brought up this way, and most everyone I know that’s around my age was spanked. My parents were spanked with switches from trees in their backyards on the backs of their legs. I think my dad was punished pretty bad at times, but he doesn’t really talk about it much.

Like I stated earlier this happened sometime in May. 4 months ago. Apparently, my daughter has been carrying this around with her all this time and I didn’t know until my mom calls me on Monday telling me that a Sheriff had just came to talk to me about hitting her with a wooden spoon.

My daughter was really depressed one day and wrote a note to her teacher saying that she’s sad, has no life and that her parents are getting a divorce. That wasn’t exactly the note but something to that effect. The teacher sends her to the school counselor and my daughter tells the counselor that I had spanked her with a wooden spoon and that Jerry had put me up to it. So then the school counselor calls CPS (Child Protective Services), who then calls the Sheriff’s Dept. to investigate.

The Sheriff went to my mom’s house (because I use her address for my kid’s school) and interviews my mom. My mom called me as soon as he left to tell me what’s going on. Of course I’m in shock and can’t believe that this is happening. All kinds of bad things start filling my head like I’m going to lose custody of my kids because I spanked them. I talked to my boss about it, who then called her husband (because he’s a detective) to find out if It’s against the law to spank your child. He said no, and that I should have nothing to worry about.

The Sheriff called me while I was talking with my boss. He told me about his interview with my daughter and asked me questions about the incident. After I told him what happened that day, he told me that he had to make a report back to CPS and that I don’t have anything to worry about. He also said that every home needs to have guidelines set and consequences for crossing those lines and that kids need discipline in their lives otherwise they get out of control and will walk all over their parents.

I went to pick my kids up from my mom’s house and talked with my daughter. I explained to her again the reason why I spanked them and told her that Jerry didn’t put me up to it, I thought of it on my own because I know spanking them with my bare hand doesn’t get their attention and I wanted them to know that I was serious. I also told her that I love her and I want nothing more than for her to be happy and if she has something that is troubling her, I want her to be able to talk to me about. And whatever she had to say wouldn’t make me mad and she wouldn’t be in trouble. I also explained the seriousness of her telling someone that I spanked her with the wooden spoon. I told her that I could have been in a lot of trouble and they would have been taken away from me for a very long time.

Yesterday I called my daughters teacher and told her that if my daughter expresses any kind of sadness or behavioral problems or anything out of the ordinary, that I feel it’s important that she calls me first. I’m her mother and I had no idea what was going on with her until I get a call from my mom telling me that the Sheriff is investigating me for child abuse. I explained to her the incident and made it clear that this happened moths ago and was the last time I’ve spanked my kids.

So today, CPS came to my work and interviewed me. He spoke with my daughter yesterday and he said the first thing she said to him was “Me and my mom talked yesterday and everything is ok now.” I told the CPS guy about what happened with the spanking and about how we talked about it on Monday. He said that he would put in his report that he didn’t find any reason to believe that I abused my daughter and I have nothing to worry about.

I’ve been a complete wreck the past couple of days. I keep thinking about how my little girl is hurt over the divorce and I’m wondering if her dad is putting things in her head like it’s my fault that we’re not a family anymore because he still loves me and wants to be with me. Or if he’s telling her that Jerry is the reason why we’re not a family anymore. I’m totally speculating, but it wouldn’t surprise me one bit.



When I was a kid, my dad spanked me with a wooden paddle he made. Every time he spanked me it was always on the butt. I remember one time he slapped my face for smarting off and my mom was pissed. I was shocked because I knew if I were to get hit, it was always on my bottom. My dad had crossed that line. I wouldn't say that I was abused. I was disciplined for being bad, not following orders or for being disrespectful.

Just wondering how many of you were spanked as a kid. And if you were spanked, what were you spanked with? I'll explain more tomorrow.


Wedding At Satan’s Mansion

When I was in High School, one of the things we did when we were bored and couldn’t find anything else to do, was go to scary places. Places with stories that have been passed on for years. Places where people were rumored to have died, or have been sacrificed by a Satanic cult. I never imagined in a million years that I would be going to a wedding at one of these places.

The Burrage Mansion was one of the places we frequented. The Mansion sits on 17 acres and when we would turn up the street, there is a brick wall that surrounded the property that would take up ½ of the block along with tress and bushes so overgrown that you couldn't get a good look of the Mansion from the street. The Mansion has a very long lighted stairway that starts at the street and goes up to the house. The steps are very hard to run up because they are only about 4” tall. You go up about 10 steps then run about 10 feet then go up another 10 steps.

The rumor was that the house was run by a satanic cult and that they sacrificed small animals on the property. There was allegedly a basement where they did their satanic rituals and it was guarded by men wearing black cloaks. We would arrive in at least 5 car loads of people. The bravest made it to the top and rang the doorbell and ran! I only ever made it half way up then chickened out.

This was a regular thing we did, so you can only imagine what I was thinking as Jerry turned on the very same street on Saturday, to go to my friend Deana’s wedding. As soon as we turned on the street I said, “Hey, this is the street Satan’s Mansion is on. Please tell me the wedding is NOT there." Then we see the brick wall. I point the house, then the steps that we would run up to Jerry and say “That’s it! That’s Satan’s Mansion”. Then we saw someone sitting at the gate to the driveway of the house and realize, this is where the wedding is. I’m laughing at this point and can’t wait to tell Deana my story. We ask the guy if this is where the wedding is at and he tells us to go up the driveway and find a place to park.

We drive up the very long driveway, park and walk to the front of the Mansion. The seating was on either side of the steps, with the arch at the top of the stairway. I’m still laughing to myself at this point, thinking how funny this all is. The house and scenery was just beautiful. I never got to see it this close up before. The house was built in 1901, Constructed as a full-scale copy of a Spanish Mission and a reminder to many of the Santa Barbara Mission.

The ceremony was beautiful and quick! (I love wedding ceremonies, bring on the reception!) And the bride looked stunning wearing a strapless off white dress. (This was her 2nd marriage). After the ceremony, we were told to go to the back of the house for the reception. It was gorgeous! We found a table close to the cake and the dance floor. After we were seated, a few of my friends joined us and we quickly found the bar and had a few cocktails until things got going.

Champaign was served, speeches were made, we finally got excused to get our dinner. After dinner, the moment I was waiting for finally arrived. The bride was going to toss her bouquet to all the available blachelorette’s. I made sure to get right up front, and told the little girls that got in front of me that if they didn’t want to get trampled on, it would probably be best if they moved. So they got out of my way. I could tell that the bride had to throw shallow to avoid hitting the beam that was about 4 feet above her. Rosa stood next to me, and even though she is one of my best friends, I wasn’t about to let her have it. So Deana threw the bouquet and I grabbed for it, caught it and landed on my right knee.

The wedding coordinator grabbed me and took me aside and said that they are going to play a trick on the guy that gets the garter, as long as one of the little kids doesn’t get it. So all the eligible bachelors lined up (including Jerry) to watch the groom take the garter off the bride. Then the groom threw the garter into the crowd of eligible bachelors. Rosa’s boyfriend Christian caught the garter. Then we explained to him that it was tradition for whoever caught the garter, that he would have to put it on the girl who caught the bouquet. And the higher up the leg the garter went, the longer the newlyweds would be married. So I asked the groom “Erik, how old are you”? He said “Thirty-eight”. I told Christian, “I’d say he’s got at least another 40 good years behind him.” The wedding coordinator told Christian that he has to do it blindfolded.

Then it was time for him to put the garter on me, but I snuck away and the groom pulled up his pant leg and Christian put the garter up to his knee. We were all laughing hysterically and we knew that Christian would figure it out right away since my legs aren’t THAT hairy. Ok, they aren’t hairy at all. I talked with Christian afterwards and he said he was thinking “Holy shit April, you need to shave them puppies!” Then he realized it wasn’t me!

We had a great time at the wedding. It was truly one of the best weddings I’ve ever been to. Everything went smoothly, the food was great and there was an open bar all night! I only wish it didn’t have to end so early.

Congratulations Erik & Deana!


Capitalizing on a Tragedy

Working in a mall, I saw many of our stores capitalizing on the worst tragedy to ever happen to America. It’s kind of a double standard because that’s their business to sell items to the public that they demanded. But on the other hand, I hated to see people profit from such a terrible catastrophe.

Immediately T Shirts were being made, flags were being printed on EVERYTHING and were being sold all over the place. Especially the flags to put on the window of your car. Sure I wanted to show my patriotism, just like everyone else, but I didn’t want to give my hard earned money to people who were profiting from an even where people lost their lives. If I was going to give my money to anybody, it was going to be to The Red Cross or other organizations that were there to help.

I had no problem accepting free items though. I was given a few really cool shirts by one of our stores that I felt was capitalizing on the tragedy. One of the shirts he gave me had that famous picture of the firefighters raising the flag on top of the rubble. The picture was done in a gray scale with only the flag in color. The words “America’s Heroes” (or something like that) read underneath the shirt. It’s one of my favorite shirts. I also got a few with an American Flag that says “God Bless America” under the flag. I wear these shirts, still to this day, with pride. I just wish they fit as good now as they did then. I later found out that the store that gave me the shirts, donated half of the profit to the families of 9-11. I just wished that all of the merchants selling similar items did the same.

For the most part, America came together supporting one another in different ways. Some gave their blood, while others gave money. I heard stories of the people who had business near and around “Ground Zero” supplying food, drinks and other needed items to the volunteers cleaning up the aftermath. That’s exactly what everyone should have been doing. I donated money to The Red Cross, and helped organize a fundraiser here at the mall to collect for the Families of 9-11. We didn’t collect more than a few hundred dollars, since every other business in America was taking collections as well, but every little bit helps.


I Will Never Forget

Two years ago this day I was getting ready for work. I woke up at approximately 7:00 am PST. My (ex) husband was in bed sleeping still. I had already taken my shower, and I turned on the TV in the living room around 7:20, because I like to listen/watch the news as I’m getting dressed and putting on my makeup. The picture that was on my TV screen was one of disbelieve. One of the Twin Towers was on fire and I was listening to them commentate about what had happened. They said that a plane had run right into one of the towers.

At this point, everyone assumed that it was a horrible accident. Maybe the pilot lost control of the plane due to a mechanical error. Different scenarios were being discussed but terrorism wasn’t brought up until the second tower was struck. Then we knew that America was under attack.

At this point, I was basically in shock. I woke up my (ex) husband and told him to turn on the TV. Then I called my mom and woke her up and explained to her what was going on. Thoughts raced though my mind about what would be attacked next? Was this the beginning of World War III? Should I go to work? I really didn’t want to leave my family but I figured I’d go to work, and see what happens. I doubt their going to attack a mall in San Bernardino.

I sat in the living room while putting on my makeup and watched in horror as people were jumping out of the buildings and the city was in complete chaos. Smoke bellowed from the top of The Towers, then the unthinkable happened. One of the Towers crumbled to the ground. Within minutes, the second Tower fell as well. All I could think about was the people trapped in the buildings with no way to get out. How horrified they must be. And their family’s, how they must feel. I have no connection with anybody at the scene and I was sitting there watching with tears rolling down my face, completely stunned by what I was watching.

Before I left to come to work, I kissed my (ex) husband and kids goodbye and told them I loved the. On my drive to work, I was listening to the radio, getting my daily fix of Kevin & Bean on KROQ. They were trying their best to give accurate accounts about what was happening. Then they announced that The Pentagon had been attacked as well. Exactly same scenario. A plane had been hijacked and steered right into the building.

Who could be doing this to us? And why? The people being targeted (until the Pentagon) aren’t military personnel. They are civilians. People going about their everyday lives. All I knew, was whoever was behind these cruel acts of hatred, are very sick people and they deserve to be hung by the hairs on their testacles, spit on with booger filled loogies then stoned to death.

I arrived at work and was anxious to hear what the game plan was. Were they going to close the mall? Nobody really felt like working, and I wasn’t expecting very many people to come shopping. Most of America was glued to their TV’s to hear the latest reports. Many of the stores didn’t open and as the day went on, more and more stores closed their doors. We decided to close the mall at 6 instead of the usual 9 pm and resume regular business hours the next day.

Our TV at work wasn’t hooked up to cable, so we found a radio and listened to things develop throughout the day. We heard stories of courageous firemen, policemen, and citizens risking their lives to save people from the burning buildings. Some made it out, and some didn’t. We also heard stories from family’s who’s loved ones were in the building.

This was one of the most tragic days in American History. Over 1,500 people lost their lives that day to a senseless act of violence. Emotions can’t be put into words about the sorrow and grief most of feel about that disastrous day. The day we will never forget.

If you have the time to read a long, but very well written article. I strongly encourage you to read The Falling Man


First Step to Apologizing

After a lot of thinking and careful consideration, I wrote my apology letter (see below for further explination). I've been debating on weather or not I should, because I don't want to inflict anymore hurt or pain to her. But it's been a few years since our falling out, and I really feel as though she deserves an apology. I was 100% at fault in this situation. I made the letter short, but sweet. Please give me any feedback if you think that I am not getting my point across or how you would feel if you were to receive this letter 2 years after a friend betrayed you. Here goes:

Dear M,

I know it’s been a few years since we’ve spoke. And a few years since the “incident” but this is something that is long over due. My intention isn’t to open a new can of worms or to hurt you anymore, but just to simply say how deeply sorry I am for what I did to you. What happened was unforgivable and I understand that you totally hate my guts. If I were you, I would totally hate my guts too. I not only betrayed your trust, I betrayed our friendship. You were one of my best friends, and I will never forgive myself for doing that to you. I was completely selfish.

There are constant reminders of the friendship we once shared and thoughts of the friendship we could have had today, which weighs heavily on my conscious. I know we can never be friends again, but I’m hoping that one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me for what I have done. If not, I understand.

I wish nothing but happiness for you and your family. Once again, I am completely and utterly sorry for the hurt I caused you.




Where Did The Weekend Go?

I hate Mondays! For one, it means the end of the weekend. For two, it means five long days of work until the weekend. And I always look forward to the weekends. But I also need to work to make money to pay for my weekends. It’s a Catch 22. So here’s my usual weekend update:

Friday night Jerry and I met Rosa, her boyfriend Christian along with a group of friends at El Torrito for Rosa’s semi-retirement party. Rosa’s boss from Mrs. Fields paid for the food and drinks. Can’t beat that! It sucks because El Torrito is such a popular spot and everyone arrives to get their tables in the bar area right after work. So basically, if you’re not there at 5 pm, you’re screwed. Christian and Mike (Rosa’s boss) got there at 6 and waited for over an hour and a half to get a table in the bar area. By the time everyone arrived, there still wasn’t a table, so we had appetizers and drinks in the restaurant area, and when we were done eating, we tipped the bouncer to hook us up with the next available table. Well, the table he gave us, was in the WAY back, not even close to the dance floor. It was the best we could do, since we had such a large group.

We had a good time drinking and dancing. Got home late and didn’t wake up until 10 the next morning. It was awesome to sleep in.

Saturday morning we picked up the kids from my parents house and went to Rosa and Christians and helped them move into their new home. We had plans to originally clean our own home, but since Rosa and Christian were there for me to help me move out, Jerry and I felt we should re-pay the favor.

We got home around 6 and I spent about 2 hours working on the house until my sister came over to watch Tombstone with us.

Sunday, we took the boat out to the lake for what may be the last run of the summer. We’ll have to see how the weather goes and if we can get caught up with our finances. These weekends that we’ve been doing lately have gotten expensive and if we’re not careful, we’re going to get behind. So we’re going to take it easy on our wallets for this month and prepare for a winter of going to Glamis.


This Makes Me Feel Like a Supa Staa!

I just love this game. Getting asked questions, is like your a star and you're being interviewed by a reporter for US Magazine or something. You know me, I don't hold back. In fact, sometimes I say too much. The wonderful Indigo Steve asked me these great questions:

1. What's your favorite drink to order at a bar? I have a few. I like to mix it up a little. Raspberry Kamikaze, Margarita on the rocks, and for beer I love Hefenweizen or Corona with lemon.

2. Is the glass half empty or half full? I think I asked Sassy this question. I am an optimist but also a realist. I always think the glass is half full.

3. You get pulled over for doing ninety in a sixty-five. How do you get out of it? Shit, I wish I could get out of it. I’ve had 3 speeding tickets in the past 3 years. Unfortunately, cops will give pretty girls tickets. Because if they don’t, they’ll have a sexual harassment report on their hands with the girl saying he only pulled her over to check her out. (I know, I’ve dated cops). But since this is a hypothetical question, I’ll just make something up. Then next time I get pulled over I’ll try it. So I get pulled over, and I’m wearing a button down shirt, and a skirt. I’ll unbutton the shirt a few buttons, and hike the skirt up a little to show some more leg. Then I’ll flirt like hell with him and play dumb! When he asks me if I know how fast I was going, I’ll say “Oh, I’m sorry, I really wasn’t paying attention”. And when he says, “Maam, you realize the speed limit is 65 don’t you”? I’ll flip my hair back, lick my lips then smile at him and say “ You mean it’s not 90”?! then I’ll look at his gun, “WOW that sure is a big gun you’ve got there, hey, does this mean I get to be frisked?” Then he’ll give me a warning and a pass to drive as fast as I want!

4. Facial hair on guys. Pro or con? Definately PRO. Give me a picture of the same guy, one with facial hair, the other with out, and I'll take the guy with just about everytime. I’ve always liked guys with facial hair. My ex husband had a goatee and Jerry has a fu-man-chu mustache. I think it makes a man, well, more manly. I’m into the blue collar guys rather than the white collar guys. I like to know that a man can take care of things around the house if something were to go wrong. And both of them can fix ANYTHING!

5. Does size really matter? HELL YA IT DOES! Sorry guys, but when a girl says that it doesn’t, that means you have a small one and she’s being polite. I mean, a guy does need to know how to work it, but size is a very important factor. There is also such a thing as too big. What’s the point if you can’t use it all. I tell Jerry this all the time because he’s never satisfied with how big his unit is. And I think he’s got the most perfect unit I’ve ever had. It doesn’t matter what I say to him. I think it’s a guy thing. But I tell him, if it’s too big, what the hell are you going to do with the rest that you can’t use? Who the fuck cares if it doesn’t hang to your knees?


My Conscious Is Eating Away At Me

A few years ago I lost one of my best friends. I did something to her that is totally unforgivable and I feel like complete shit about it. She hates me now, and I know that if I were her, I’d feel the same way about me too. I’ve thought about writing her a letter, telling her how sorry I am and how I miss her friendship. But, I chicken out.

I have dreams about her all the time. The dreams are never the same. Sometimes, we’re friends again, other times, she hates me. And what makes it worse is that she lives right down the street from my ex and I pass by her house all the time. Not only that, she works at a bank on the property of the mall I work for. The same bank I used to go to all the time, until she started working there.

I’ve run into her on several occasions. It’s such a small world. One time she was in the same club as me in Vegas. Another time, she was at the same bar that I was at. I was with a date that time and we were at the bar closing out the tab and she came up behind me and grabbed me by the back of my hair and called me a fucking bitch. As I was about to turn around to defend myself, the bartender grabbed me an pulled me behind the bar as my date got in-between us so she couldn’t attack me anymore. Then her husband ran up and socked my date square in the face. Luckily my date worked for INS and was used to being hit all the time. I felt awful about it, but he took it like a pro.

I went to the ATM today at her bank and the only parking space was the one right across from her car. All I could think about was what if she comes out of the bank at the same time I was there? What would I say to her or what would I do if I saw her? I hate confrontation when I know that I’m at fault. I’m a coward that way. But I also feel as though I really need to apologize. I don’t know if it will make a difference or not, but at least I know that I said what needed to be said.


House Party

Part of growing up and being a teenager is having a totally raging party at your parent’s house. I’m talking under-aged drinking, music blaring, friends puking, things breaking, people passed out, kind of party.

My parent’s used to go out of town for the weekend and leave my sister and me home alone. As soon as we got word that they were leaving for the weekend, the plans began. We never made flyers up. We didn’t want the entire school at the house. Just a few close friends, and their friends, friends, and their friends, friends. You know how it goes.

Since my parents went away more than once, well, we had several parties. You’d think they’d learn after the first few, not to go away and leave us by ourselves. And I swear, my mom just knew we had a party despite the fact that the house was spotless (maybe that’s what gave it away) because she’d find the smallest scuff mark on the wall, and we had no explanation on how it got there.

Here’s a rundown on how a few of the party’s went:

Party #1

~ Shots with friends at 6:30, just to get a head start before the REAL party started. The problem was, we were passed out before the party started, and I woke up after the party ended.

~ Found a small piece of white “paper” with a peace sign on it wrapped in tin foil. Just guess what that was? Flushed that puppy right down the toilet.

~ Found out later that some of my friends, friends, were doing lines of some white powdery substance on my parents glass table. Cleaned that with TONS of Windex.

~ Same friends of my friend chopped up some Smarties Candy and had her snort it.

~ Another friend passed out on the toilet puking. This is a regular thing at most parties, I know. But it’s still funny.

Party #2

~ Moshing in the family room.

~ Someone put his foot through my parent’s coffee table while moshing. (Actually it was a blessing in disguise since they’ve had that coffee table for 20 + years and it was time to go!)

~ Some drunk guy decided it was a good idea to start jumping from the second story balcony into the living room.

~ My Nirvana Nevermind CD got stolen. (That should give you some idea what year this was).

~ Drinking my dad’s booze and replacing it with water later.

~ Quarters. What’s a party with out quarters?

~ Moving furniture out into the garage so no more would get ruined. Especially the glass table.

~ Breaking a very expensive ceramic floral arrangement on the way out to the garage. My mom noticed the crack from where I attempted to glue it back together, two weeks later. I was sooooo busted!

~ Made $5 from recycling the cans and bottles from the party.

Party #3

~ Shots of tequila, vodka, gin or anything hard we could find that wasn’t too diluted from the last party.

~ Filled those bottles back up with water.

~ Sister smashing a beer can on her forehead.

~ That left the hugest round bruise on her forehead for over a week!

~ I flipped a guy on his back by doing some Karate move with his arm. I don’t think I could ever do that again if I tried.

~ Attempted to smoke pot using a beer can with holes. It didn’t work very good.

~ Rest of the night…..Total Blank.


Roughin’ It

I don’t know about you, but my weekend was absolutely fabulous despite the fact that there was no running water to take a shower or wash any part of my body. And that we went to a walk in campground, so we had to park ¼ mile from our campsite and haul everything in. Luckily, our friends, friend has a wagon and it only took 2 trips to get everything in.

We stayed about 20 miles north of Mammoth, right on the border of Yosemite National Park. Our elevation was 10,000 feet and the view was spectacular. Everything was so green and the air was so clean. My body didn’t know how to handle the fresh smog-free air, so I got a killer headache as soon as we arrived on Saturday.

Our campsite was on a cliff with a 200 foot drop that over looked a small river and a meadow of long green grass. It was pure heaven. Just like something from a scene from the movie Homeward Bound. I kept picturing Jerry’s dog Bruster and my cat Sophie running across the meadow together and drinking from the river trying to find their way home and surviving off the land. I know, I’m such a dork. But it was a cute thought.

The kids spent all of daylight on Saturday, riding the wagon down the hill on the road (that we couldn’t drive on) that was next to our campsite. They would push the wagon to the top of the hill, some one would steer and the other would push the wagon down the hill then jump in before it picked up too much speed. It was like a mini roller coaster. The kids would trade off who would steer and who would push without fighting about it once! As soon as it got dark, the kids totally crashed hard.

When we went to bed we quickly realized that the air mattress had a leak and we ended up sleeping on the hard ground. We woke up totally sore and grumpy. Then it started to rain. Which was cool because I love the rain, and I had almost forgotten what it looked and smelled like. It rained for most of the morning, so all the kids (mine and my neighbors daughter) played in the tent, while Jerry and I laid in the sleeping bag snuggling, keeping warm and trying to nap. But napping was about impossible with 3 kids playing in the same tent.

After it quit raining for a little bit, Jerry and I decided that we needed to go to Kmart for another air mattress. It was an hour drive one way to the nearest Kmart. But we didn’t mind, the drive was beautiful. We did our shopping then had lunch and came back to the camp. It kind of seemed like a wasted day since it was raining and we couldn’t go hiking or fishing so we went shopping.

Yesterday was just a perfect day. It was 75 and sunny! There was a lake just up the road, so we got our gear and went fishing. All you PETA people, need not fear, we didn’t even catch the normal weedfish. We realized that it was noon and we wanted to get on the road, so we came back and packed up all our gear. That part didn’t suck as much as trying to get the gear to the Jeep. The people who owned the wagon, had left on Sunday because of the rain (pussy’s!) They would have let us take it with us, but we didn’t have any room for it, so they left us their dolly instead and that was a huge help.

After spending 4 hours packing and loading the Jeep, we finally got on the road and made it home by 10 pm last night. The traffic was awesome for a holiday weekend. We flew home in 6 hours. When we finally arrived, we were hungry, tired and smelled really bad. The experience was worth it though. A hot shower after not bathing in 3 day feels better than sex.