Friends

This one goes out to the Beav'ster! While I'm not sure what your religious views are, this song always helped me get through moves and leaving loved ones behind.

Friends

Packing up the dreams God planted
In the fertile soil of you
Can't believe the hopes he's granted
Means a chapter in your life is through
But we'll keep you close as always
It won't even seem you've gone
'Cause our hearts in big and small ways
Will keep the love that keeps us strong

And friends are friends forever
If the Lord's the Lord of them
And a friend will not say "Never"
'Cause the welcome will not end
Though it's hard to let you go
In the Father's hands we know
That a lifetime's not too long
To live as friends

With the faith and love God's given
Springing from the hope we know
We will pray the joy you'll live in
Is the strength that now you show
But we'll keep you close as always
It won't even seem you've gone
'Cause our hearts in big and small ways
Will keep the love that keeps us strong

And friends are friends forever
If the Lord's the Lord of them
And a friend will not say "Never"
'Cause the welcome will not end
Though it's hard to let you go
In the Father's hands we know
That a lifetime's not too long
To live as friends

~Michael W. Smith

Antics in Babysitting Continue

I figured today would run a bit smoother as I had a heart to heart with the child this morning and she apologized this afternoon for her behavior on Monday. Well, we get home and she's playing with her doll house. I can't even pretend to try to play dolls. I'm such a boring playmate when it comes to anything creative. As she's playing, she toots. Now, one couldn't really be sure of what they heard and I usually just ignore situations like that, ESPECIALLY with small children. If she hadn't jerked her head around to look at me and giggle, the whole thing could have passed innocently enough. Well about a minute later she jumps up and runs to the bathroom (mind you we haven't been home 15 minutes and she went as soon as we got there). So, I was a bit concerned: "You okay?" "Yeah, I'm just pooping," was the response she hollered across the house. Good to know, I don't think deductive reasoning would have provided that information. A few minutes later she's calling my name...oh lord. She wants me to wipe her. Excuse me?? I've changed diapers, wiped toddler's behinds, but a 7 year old second grader wants me to wipe her? I was a bit confused by this and told her no. "But it's really messy. You don't understand!" Oh, I get it, it's messy so I should get your poo all over me instead of you taking care of things. Well, I wasn't about to give in on this one. Her teachers don't wipe her, why should I have to.

Then it was back to play as normal until dinner time. She says she wants chicken nuggets, three. So I finally find the unmarked baggie amidst her mother's liquor in the freezer and pop the three requested into the microwave for a few seconds. They were plenty cooked and just fine. Well, this was an unacceptable form of preparation. They are SUPPOSED to be cooked in the toaster oven, I was informed. Well, excuse me. Then she proceeds to request that I feed her. Excuse me?? Again, 7 year old second grader. I don't think so. She fought for a few seconds before I walked away to utilize the facilities (I made sure to lock the door, you never know with this kid). By the time I returned, she was happily eating her wrongly cooked chicken on her own accord. However, she was eating with her mouth wide open, smacking at every bite. I was so disgusted and finally got her to chew with her mouth closed, repeating the words of my mother, again.

Her mom laughed so hard when she got home. I can't really remember how the conversation went, but it started somewhere around me not hand feeding her daughter. Then the girl decided to bust out with, "I went poopy!" Her mom just laughed at her and said okay. Then I told her that I had also refused to wipe her. Both being on the precedent that I felt she was certainly old enough to accomplish both. He mom, again, laughed and said that she'd gotten some babysitters to do both but that I didn't have to do either. She was still laughing when she walked me to the door and said under her breath, "this ought to be good birth control for you."

Seriously, I have babysat for years now. I've come across some interesting kids with some pretty odd quirks, but this child takes the cake. My mother is highly amused with my daily updates on the latest random behavior I've had to combat. Oy! I don't know if I'll make it all year with this child!

un corazón tan triste

Hablé con Mami, hoy. Le extraño tanto. Ella quiere que yo regresar a visitar a ella. Dijo muchas cosa de me y como soy. Dijo que todo en la familia, incluyendo a Papi, habla de mí todo el tiempo. Estaba llorando cuando tuve que cerrar la llamada. Extraño mi Mami, mi hermana, mi hermanito y, de verdad, un poco de Papi también. Mi familia anfitriona fue increíble y todavía son extraordinarios. Quieren que yo regrese pronto. Quiero como nada más. Quiero comer mi arroz y habichuelas. Quiero sentar en el balcón y hablar por horas y horas. No entiendo como puedo tener emociones tan fuertes después de solo seis semanas. Me dijo que yo y solo la mujer que estaba allí para empezar el programa, cambiamos el corazón de Mami tanto. Ella tiene familia en Tampa y en Ohio. Me dijo que no puedo regresar, quizás, podemos reunir en Tampa o más probable para ella, en Ohio.

No puedo escribir todo que está en mi corazón. Al primer, pensé fue porque no puedo hablar con tanto facilidad en español. Pero, no es el caso. No puedo describir mis emociones en ingles, tampoco. Soy tan deprimida hoy. Pero, ya sé que voy a ver a ella de nuevo en algún día.

I’ve translated what I originally wrote in Spanish. Sadly, the translation is a little rough. Even for me, translating my own thoughts from one language to another is difficult sometimes (the spelling was terrible after writing in Spanish…thank goodness for spell check).

I spoke with Mami today. I miss her so much. She wants me to return to visit her. She said many things about me and how I am. She said that everyone in the family, including Papi, talks about me all the time. I was crying when I had to hang up. I miss my Mami, my sister, my little brother, and in truth, a little of Papi as well. My host family was incredible and they still are extraordinary. I want to return soon. I want it like nothing else. I want to eat my rice and beans. I want to sit on the balcony and talk for hours and hours. I don’t understand how I can have such strong emotions after only six weeks. She told me that only I and the woman who was there to start the program changed her heart so much. She has family in Tampa and in Ohio. She told me that if I couldn’t return, perhaps we can meet in Tampa or more likely for her, in Ohio.

I can’t write all that’s in my heart. At first I thought it was because I can’t speak as easily in Spanish. But that’s not the case. I can’t describe my emotions in English, either. I’m so depressed today. But, I already know that I will see her again some day.

It's Official....I've turned into my Mother!!

Well, today, much to my babysitting charge's dismay, I discovered that I have indeed turned into my mother!!

It all started when her FAVORITE cartoon was coming on right at dinner time. However, they are ALL her FAVORITES. So being the cunning little child she is, she attempted to convince me that dinner in front of the TV, atop the pristine and expensive couch, over the white carpet, on the glass coffee table was not only allowable, but endorsed by her mother. Finding this hard to believe, I enacted my standard rule for situations where my rules and the child's rules differ: we'll do it my way today, ask Mom tonight, and do it Mom's way tomorrow. This was NOT agreeable to her plight. But, being the Type A personality I was, I stood firm to the no eating in front of the TV. However, I did concede to leave the TV on while she ate. I should have known this was a bad idea. Three bites into the pasta (plain with a dab of butter--this will be discussed later) I'd made her, she decided that she was done and informed me of such and tried to plop herself in front of the boob tube once more. I, of course, was not buying this. I told her to take three more bites and drink the rest of her milk. While I had, admittedly, made more pasta than she would be expected to eat, she had not eaten a sufficient amount of it. Well, that was NOT acceptable either!! So, I decided that the television really didn't need to be on until she'd complied with my requests. After some fighting on her part and some firm ground laying of MY rules, she finally conceded to do as I'd requested. Then she IMMEDIATELY wanted desert. I don't think so. I told her she could wait until her mom got home and then her mom could decide when she ate it. She didn't fight too hard since she knew I was putting my foot down and she'd already lost so many battles. She went back to watching TV and effectively ignoring me until her mom came home.

When Mom came home I asked her if dinner was allowed to be served in front of the television. I got a laughing "of course not" as my response. The protests from the living room were pathetic and quickly quieted by Mom. Then I asked her if I should have been serving her daughter any fruits and veggies or protein or something with her dinner. She's allowed to ask for whatever she wants for dinner and always wants pasta or spaghetti-o’s or something equally un-nutritional. Her mom's response was that whatever she wants is fine. If she wants chicken nuggets and french fries, they're in the freezer and that's fine. If she wants canned peas or canned corn or canned potatoes, that's fine as well. I'm sorry, I come from the school that peas, corn, and potatoes are starches holding very little to no nutritional value. I was ASTOUNDED that this mother didn’t ask me to provide ANYTHING to her daughter to help her growth and development other than whole milk.

I called my mother to tell her the story when I was on my way home, laughing the whole way. I really have turned into my mother. I accept that in this notion. Perhaps when I grow up and actually start cooking for myself, I'll be more inclined to prepare well rounded meals. Oy!

Book for a rainy day

I just finished reading Edward Bellamy's Looking Backward. The book was written in 1888. It proposed to write a futuristic tale of the nation/world in the year 2000. Perhaps a better summary of it's actual affects is to describe the deplorable state the world was in that year. The utopia in which the protagonist finds himself is just that. However, in the year 2005, we have fallen wholly short of this proposed utopia. Rather, our land is ravaged by the same problems, if not worsened by time, as it was that pathetic day Bellamy sat down to write. Funny how someone condemning society over a century ago can effectively condemn our own.

I'd highly recommend this book to just about anyone. It's a relatively quick read, and unless you're buying it in the school bookstore, relatively inexpensive as well. Happy Reading!

FREEDOM!!!

Ah! The glorious appeal of blue skies, stifeling heat, and crippling humidity! With the storm well out of the area, we were finally able to get out of the building and cure a bit of the cabin fever that was rapidly spreading through the dorms last night. While I simply complained about being bored and watched one of my favorite movies, others had more creative ways to occupy their time. My poor RA friend had to deal with the insanity as noise levels grew to deafening levels around midnight. She had to quiet an alcohol party in one suite (luckily they were all of age), people faking extremely loud orgasms in another suite, and someone playing a one stringed violin rather loudly in another suite. Like I said, we were bored.

The storm huffed and puffed and eventually made land fall over an hour south of us. We got some wind and rain but nothing really. Over 1 million FL residents lost power, which sucks for them. Luckily, VERY luckily, the dorms maintained power (I could only imagine, our windows don't open, at all). OH! And we got our water back yesterday afternoon. We had to run every faucet and shower for 5+ minutes, but at least it's back to potable!!

Today I woke up to glorious blue skies. I decided I'd looked at my bedroom walls long enough and set out to find some trouble. I met up with a friend and we spent FOREVER at the Christian bookstore (she takes SO long to make a decision about anything). Then we went for a late lunch at Taco Bell (yes, no protein bar for lunch). After "lunch" (at 3:30 pm) we sat and talked about our summers and life and stuff. It was so nice just to be out of here for a few. I can't believe it's Friday, though. It really feels like Saturday.

Time to get busy on some homework. I've got a ton of reading to do and a stack of grad school applications to fill out!! Everyone, take care! Joe, you know I'm praying. Beaver, I'm praying for you, too, good luck!! And Amias, if you're reading...get back to work!!

BORED!!!!

Okay, it's official; I'm BORED out of my mind!!! They've canceled classes for the rest of today and tomorrow. They expect to be back up and running on Saturday. This really doesn't affect me since I don't have any classes after 12:30 on Thursdays until Monday morning. They decided not to kick us out for this barely a cat 1 hurricane. The only catch is, we can't leave 'cause there's nothing open and since the campus is technically closed, we can't have guests. So, we're all just chillin' inside being bored. We've all admitted that we do have homework we could be doing, but there's a hurricane outside (tee hee); we can't be expected to do homework. I don't think I could possibly stay awake long enough to read anything anyway. I've officially checked all my fave blogs about a million times...no nothing's changed in the last few hours, despite how much I wish it would. I'd love for one of those really long, intricate Voice posts right about now. You know, the ones that take you forever to read and even longer to check all the interesting links. Or perhaps a new Liquidplastic poem. One that I don't really get so I have to read it a billion times and think about it forever. Then realize the true beauty of it and read it a billion more times because I finally get it. Or maybe a good Beaver link post, similar to her recent test post. Too bad I did all those tests the other day when I wasn't doing my Spanish lit homework. Oy! But then I remember that the rest of the world goes on while FL remains in this surreal time warp. I forgot about that through all of them last year, too. Talking to my friends in CO, "What do you mean you went driving around the mountains and ran errands today?!?! Oh right, no hurricanes out there, my bad."

We're going to watch "In the Time of the Butterflies" later tonight. That should be interesting. I've seen it several times and read the book in English. I have to admit that I've yet to take the time to read it in Spanish. I don't feel all that bad, though. Although it's written by a Dominican author and about the Dominican Republic, it was originally written in English. Anyway, for those of you who aren't familiar with the story...the movie/book/story takes place in the 1960's in the Dominican Republic during the Trujillo reign (a horrific dictator who ruled for 30+ years). Started before and inspired by the Cuban revolution, one young girl began an underground movement to become the Dominican Revolution. This girl was given the code name "Mariposa" or "butterfly." Later two of her sisters became involved in the movement and shared the code name. After several years, a few run-ins with the "president," and much underground activity, the girls were brutally murdered by the government. They day they were murdered, November 25, has become the International Non-violence against Women Day. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. Last I checked it was in the DVD bargain bin at Wal-mart, $5.50. I recommend reading the book more, by Julia Alvarez. Both are superb.

Still nothing happening outside my window. The trees aren't really even swaying much anymore. It doesn't appear to be raining at the moment, but hurricane rain is so fine that sometimes you can't tell when it is. The sky doesn't even get black. I guess I'd be more impressed if this was actually a real hurricane. This barely qualifies. According to the national hurricane center, a system has to have sustained winds of 74-95 mph in order to be deemed a cat 1 hurricane. Our "all powerful" Katrina ranks in with 75 mph winds. OOOOO I'm shaking. Maybe I'm being too cynical. This is the fourth hurricane I've been through this year (the first three were in the Dominican Republic) and who knows how many in my life time. Good thunder storms are scarier than tropical storms, to me. But then, I'm not going to do anything stupid because I think this is a lesser storm. No surfing with crazy undertows, no flying kites with keys attached (although there's really never any lightening in these kinds of systems), no running around outside naked (but that is a thought to cure the boredom).

Okay, I'm done rambling. At least I managed to keep myself occupied for a bit while writing this. I'm going to try to get my philosophy reading done (oh how I despise philosophy). We'll see how that goes. Hope everyone is out there staying dry while pointing fingers and laughing at us...again!

Check it out if you get bored!

I'm in Jupiter

Starting the semester out right

Well, last fall was destroyed by two hurricanes back to back. Guess we're starting early this year.

DOOM!!

For those of you who aren't as familiar with FL geography, I'm currently on the East coast just above the big blue dot. Should this thing decided to wreck havoc on our semester, I'll be residing on the little hangy thing on the West coast about mid-state.

Don't drink the water

So I went to the bathroom yesterday afternoon, washed my hands, and walked to my room to get my stuff ready to leave. I hadn't made it as far as my room when there was a hurried banging on our suite door. I answered it, thinking it was odd that anyone would knock, and in such a manner at that. Turns out it was an RA (residential assistant--they're required to knock before entering) spreading the word not to even think about water. Our campus water supply had been contaminated by the constant construction. They'd accidentally mixed our potable supply with our sewage. Don't drink, shower, wash hands, brush teeth...basically unless it involves flushing, don't use a drop of water. Of course I found this disturbing since I'd just washed my hands. I dug out the hand sanitizer I was so fond of when I worked in the after school care program. I was off to dinner with a friend I hadn't seen in three months, so I wasn't all that worried about things (although I did make sure to wash my hands again before I even thought about eating, or drinking for that matter). I figured this would be a quick fix and things would be back to normal by the time I got home. Well, 5 hours later brought no change so we dug out bottled water to brush our teeth and went to bed dirty.

Walking around campus this morning was interesting. All the girls have their hair up, can't imagine why. There are signs all over campus and all conversations are revolving around the uncleanliness of our bodies. There's no estimate as to when we'll have our safe water supply back. The woman I'm working for (basically a nanny gig) told me I was more than welcome to use her shower. I think I'll be popping over there before I have to pick up her daughter from school. Greasy hair, sticky skin, and furry legs....hmmmm yum!

Just DO YOUR JOB

Okay, here's a rampage that I've been on more than once and the fact that I'm on it AGAIN is more than aggravating. I'm lucky enough to have been hand selected for a very prestigious and generous scholarship. Although my expenses are supposed to be taken care of by the school with little to no effort by me, in actuality it's a CONSTANT battle. Throughout this I'll be speaking of two people Dianne who is in charge of the scholarship and transferring the scholarship money to the FAU foundation, and Stacey who is in charge of financial aid and making sure money in the foundation is transferred to their earmarked accounts. While Dianne is generally on top of things, Stacey I've found to be about as intelligent as my cat (which borders on insulting my cat). The process goes that I register for classes, Dianne checks out account balances, transfers that much money from the scholarship fund to the foundation with our names on it. From there, someone, presumably Stacey has to apply the money to our accounts. Because of all the problems with the process, we are now supposed to go tell Stacey how much money will be transferred in our names. I find this ridiculous since the amount and our names are intertwined in the system. We have an online account system that lets us access our student accounts, i.e. class schedules, account balances, holds. The system also lets us see when money has been transferred to the foundation in our names, but not applied to out accounts yet.

Well, this summer I had about $700 worth of credits to be paid for. I contacted the appropriate people and figured everything was underway. Now I come to find that my classes, indeed, were not paid for although the money was transferred in my name. Because of this I have holds on my account...including a registration hold. This is not good as I have one last class I need to register for. Stacey is insisting that the money has been paid and I don't have any holds. Which is clearly not the case. Instead of investigating what I'm saying and fixing the f*ing problem, she decides it's just best to argue with me. She's pissed because after nothing got done following a round of e-mails I called Dianne to find out what was going on. Dianne in turn called Stacey and probably wasn't too nice since Dianne transferred the money back in June. GRRR so now I'm the bad guy who still doesn't have her money!

Honestly, how hard could this all possibly be?

Stress

Okay, its official, the stress just oozes out of the walls here. I'm sitting here, with very little to do. I'm bordering on bored, really. Yet, I'm gittery and can't sit still and feel like I should be doing something. My boxes have long been unpacked, my walls are now covered. This is ridiculous!!

ah the joys of being back at school!!!!

Sadness

::tear:: I just said good-bye to my mommy.

I'm back at school, getting settled in. You know, after four years of setting up very similarly structured/equipped rooms, it gets remarkably quicker. This year I had all the boxes empty and was basically done about two hours after the last bit of stuff made it into my room. The walls are still blank, but as for the bed and the nick knacks and clothes and such...all is in it's place. The new flat panel monitor my mom snagged from her work's charity sale makes life SO much better. My mom drove over with me (and a car load of my stuff). After lots of moving, unpacking, and two nights in a hotel, she's back on the road heading home. I'm so sad. It's so hard saying good-bye, especially knowing how much quieter the house will be for her, alone. But, life goes on and as soon as I start freaking out about my work load tomorrow morning, I'll be just fine. I'm just exhausted from being so excited that I couldn't sleep the days leading up to the move, then working so hard for two days (packing then unpacking) in the FL heat.

Classes, thesis, grad school applications.....oy!! Here we go again!! Good luck to all those getting back to the grind stone!!

Maturity Running Rampant

I was flipping through my grandparent's pictures of my uncle's May wedding (yes, May 2005). I found this one and thought it perfectly counteracted the pic I have in my profile. I can't remember the circumstances, yet I'm not surprised to find this. Just 'cause I'm old enough to act mature doesn't mean I have to, right??

Previous Comment

I followed my own trail of commenting back a few months in pursuit of a particular piece of information. I found my own comment to a post The Voice wrote back in June. As it relates to a few previous posts and provides a bit more back ground information about me, I figured I'd add it here.

There comes a point in life when we begin to question things, particularly those that define us as different from the norm. I was about 8 or so when it occurred to me that I was the only child I knew with my father as my legal guardian (as opposed to my living mother). To explain this, he thought it was best to march me down to the court house and let me read all the divorce documents myself. The battle between my mother and father was vicious to say the least. When I was done processing all that I could handle, I sat in the fetal position with tears running down my face. My father looked at me with cold eyes that cut me to the bone: "You were born to save a dying marriage. When that didn't work, we had to figure out what to do with you." That was supposed to excuse away the years of abuse and pardon the years to come. I tried my best to put it out of my mind, but that's not something easily displaced. He reaffirmed his disgust for me when I was 15 and blatantly demanded that he and his wife stop searching my room. Through clenched teeth, with those cold metallic eyes he hissed, "I hate your G-d damned guts!"

I've never been one for the expression "forgive and forget." There are a lot of things in my life I've been able to forgive, but there are things that one will never be able to forget. It's those unforgettable things, for better or worse, that have made me who I am today and for that I am grateful. For all my lack of self-confidence, I do consider myself a rather successful person. I've done so much and had so many opportunities open to me because of my persistence to not accept the "norm." I want more out of life than I was given. I think I've done a fairly good job at achieving that so far. My father never thought I'd be successful without his help. In spite of him, and to spite him, I think I've turned out fairly well.

Blame God Instead

I'm at a mental road-block. All this packing, and reminiscing has put me in a rather melancholy mood. The following is a song by a group that has morphed quite a bit in the past year. At one time the lead guitarist was a friend of mine. I have no idea if this song will be on the soon-promised album. I've always liked this song, but never put anyone in my life with it until Tracy. Walking around Orlando last weekend, I kept doing double takes, fully knowing that he'd have no reason to stray so far from his CO home. I'm pretty much over his antics, but every so often he creeps back into my mind.

I do a dub-a-double take a thousand times a day
No matter where I go I always think I just saw your face
And every time I realize I'm wrong
A part of me still can't believe you're gone

With everybody in my life I'm obligated to explain
Who I am, what I said, what I meant, why I feel this way
But you knew more about me than I knew myself
I'll never find the same in anyone else

When you left me, you never even said good-bye
Since you left me, all I can do is wonder why
I'd feel so much better off with you dead
Then I'd still believe in you and I'd blame God instead

Remember how the days and nights started to feel the same
Time had a way of stopping when I cried out your name
But the voice I just heard made my blood run cold
In the blink of an eye your heart just turned to stone

When you left me, you never even said good-bye
Since you left me, all I can do is wonder why
I'd feel so much better off with you dead
Then I'd still believe in you and I'd blame God instead

When you left all my friends told me that I should move on
That I deserved better than you
Sometimes I wish you'd died
Then I could greive in peace
And everyone would understand the pain I'm going through

When you left me, you never even said good-bye
Since you left me, all I can do is wonder why

No, no, no, no, no
When you left me, you never even said good-bye
Since you left me, all I can do is wonder why
I'd feel so much better off with you dead
Then I'd still believe in you and I'd blame God instead

When you left me, you never even said good-bye
Since you left me, all I can do is wonder why
I'd feel so much better off with you dead
Then I'd still believe in you and I'd blame God instead

I do a dub-a-double take a thousand times a day
No matter where I go I always think I just saw your face

~Alex Bach

Words to Live By

"When I stand before God at the end of my life I would hope that I would have not a single bit of talent left and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.'" ~ Erma Bombeck

Realizations

A fun weekend, growing emotions, and some very real realizations kept me busy. Joseph and I carted off to Universal Studios on Friday. We had a spectacular time. Everything keeps running so smoothly between us and the old emotions are hard to ignore. Right before lunch, he announced that he was going to follow through on a promise that he'd made a long time before. Walking to the Barney gift shop, I realized he was going to buy me the stuffed Barney I'd asked for one year for my birthday. It's a long story but basically revolves around my late "little sister." Of course I was bawling. It was one of the sweetest, most selfless gestures I've ever known him to do. The day continued without a glitch. He took me to a bar nearby that he'd always talked about (but that I was too young to enjoy, previously). One drink and I was toasted. Perhaps Pat Obrien's Hurricanes ring a bell with some of you. He was a perfect gentleman and drove me home, at which time I promptly passed out. We were meeting friends for dinner then had plans to go back to their house (where I was going to spend the night). We got to dinner and I could barely keep my sleepy little head up (four hours of sleep mixed with a cocktail). We had to run back to his house to grab the overnight bag I'd dropped there earlier. We both needed to use the bathroom as well. I went first since I was about to pee my pants. His bathroom mission was going to be more lengthy, so I laid down to wait. By the time he was done I was PASSED out cold. We slept in each others arms, presumably for the last time.

Daylight brought a lot of clarity. As we laid there and talked, I mentioned that God had been missing from our relationship before. He didn't get it. I knew he never would. I tried to talk about my beliefs, knowingly in vain. While he proclaims to be Episcopalian, his beliefs are closer to agnostic bordering on atheist. I knew that despite any emotions or feelings or chemistry, our relationship would never work out. It ended the first time over a bunch of little petty stuff; it will never start again because of the bigger issues. He talked about how opposites attract. I tried to explain that opposite interests may attract, but opposite values and belief systems do not. He talked about compromise. I'm sorry, perhaps I'm just a bitch, but there are some things in a relationship I am NOT willing to compromise on--religion being one of them. I tried to explain that at this point in my life, dating for fun is beginning to fade away while dating to find a life partner is taking precedence. In searching for that life partner, I need someone who is going to agree on how to structure our relationship and eventually on how to raise our children. The concept of merging this last idea with faith was beyond him. My point, exactly. He doesn't believe the same as I do. His priorities aren't nearly the same in life. Tears came to my eyes as I realized I'd have to let go of him once again.

I went over to my friend's house that I was supposed to have stayed with. We hung out for a few hours and doubled over in laughter when the wife attempted to make pancakes. Talk about someone with common sense. She literally mixed up an entire recipe worth of pancake mix and poured it all into the frying pan at once. I'm not really sure what she was thinking. I turned the burner way down and tried to bake it, flipped it with a plate, and continued my "baking" attempts. In the end, her 14 pancake serving size in 1 turned out not so bad. We made her eat it and we ate the pancakes I cooked.

Then it was off to visit Lisa. I called my uncle on the long drive there. My uncle is my male figure. We connected a few years ago and became very close. Our conversations will range from topics that have one of the two of us crying to topics that have us both crying with laughter. It had been a while since we'd talked and I figured it was time to catch up. We talked and talked and I told him a lot of what I've been posting. While it's good to type it out, it felt so good to talk to him about it.

Lisa was doing well, a little too hyper for my exhaustion, really. I took it as a good sign and filled her in on all the gossip of the weekend. She was nervous about the family therapy session the next day and her possible homecoming. We giggled and chatted and bullshitted for the allotted 1.5 hours and I left (LP, I dropped off the comment you made on her blog, along with the fig tree post--she was very touched and said they were very helpful).

When I got back to my truck I saw that I'd missed a call from my dad's parents. I checked my voicemail to hear my grandmother in a rather worried voice saying that they needed to talk to me. My first thought was of my ailing grandfather, but that was quickly replaced with the feeling it had something to do with my dad.

Perhaps I should digress a bit here to give a bit of background information. My dad had full custody of me and my brother (8 years my elder) when my parents got divorced when I was 2. When my brother was 16 the emotional/mental/physical abuse was too overwhelming and he moved out. My father promptly disowned my brother. When I was 15, I came to the same point and moved in with my mom. Again, he promptly disowned me. I've spent the past several years doing what I can to make attempts at contact and receiving complete and utter rejection.

I called my grandmother back. She said my father had moved from his home in North Carolina (where we'd moved when I was 13) to Phoenix, Arizona. It appears that he didn't tell anyone until he got there what he was doing. He sent some of my "belongings" to my grandparents for them to pass along to me--mind you, they live in NC as well while I live in FL. Granny said they had 17 savings bonds ("do you need the money from these?"), my social security card ("have you been missing that?"), and some pictures. No, of course I don't need the money. They were bought for college, I'm in my last year, couldn't work this summer, went abroad.....nope, couldn't really use that money right now. Oh and yeah, I'd love to have my social security card. Too bad that I had to get a replacement to get jobs and schooling and register to vote and all kinds of other stuff that you do after you're 15 years old. The conversation really upset me. My father had moved across the country to a place I'd never called home. Anything he might have still had of mine, he was sure to have trashed before the move. He sent the stuff for me to my grandparents and not to me. Yeah, I was a little hurt.

I tried to brush it off. My mom and I packed up all our scrapbooking supplies and I grabbed my Dominican pictures and we headed off to her friend's house for a crop. It was a good evening and I got to put together a few pages of memories. It made me miss my host family, but spending time with my real mom counteracted it.

Today we started cleaning and organizing and re-packing all my college stuff. One last dorm move. It's an exhausting process. But, I can't wait to get back to school and get my mind in order and start stressing about "normal" stuff. There's a particular grad school application that's waiting for me there. My chances are 5 in 200+ but it's the exact program I want to get into. I'm not getting my hopes up, but I'm not giving them up either. I've also determined that if I don't get married before I get my doctorate, I'm going to change my name to my mom's maiden name. I don't want to carry that title with my father's name.

I'm back in that weird, growing up, angsty stage of life. I'm not a kid anymore, but I certainly don't feel like an adult. One more year and I'll have to grow up. Oy!

To those who have been used to seeing my comments on their blogs, I'm still reading...just having trouble coming up with something to say.

The Trick Is To Keep Breathing

Someone posted a reference to this song on LP's acrostic about me. I did some digging and found the lyrics. Still haven't heard the song, but sounds like it should be good.

The Trick Is To Keep Breathing

She's not the kind of girl
who likes to tell the world
about the way she feels about herself
She takes a little time
in making up her mind
She doesn't want to fight against the tide

Lately I'm not the only one
I say never trust anyone
Always the one who has to drag her down
Maybe you'll get what you want this time around

Can't bear to face the truth
So sick he cannot move
and when it hurts he takes it out on you

Lately I'm not the only one
I say never trust anyone
Always the one who has to drag her down
Maybe you'll get what you want this time around

The trick is to keep breathing
The trick is to keep breathing

She knows the human heart
and how to read the stars
Now everything's about to fall apart

I won't be the one who's going to let you down
Maybe you'll get what you want this time around
(the trick is to keep breathing)
I won't be the one who's going to let you down
(the trick is to keep breathing)
Maybe you'll get what you want this time around
The trick is to keep breathing
The trick is to keep breathing
The trick is to keep breathing
The trick is to keep breathing
The trick is to keep breathing
The trick is to keep breathing
The trick is to keep breathing
Garbage

A bit of randomness

Things are starting to look up, now.

Lisa's doing well. They're hopeful that after her family therapy session on Sunday afternoon that she'll be released. I got to visit her last night and it was good to see her back to her spazzy self again. I realized that those visits are much more emotionally trying than I'd noticed in the past. Despite the good visit, I was really down afterward.

Things with my ex are going smoothly. Surprising, since things between us have NEVER gone smoothly. We've exchanged a few e-mails. Yesterday would have been his little's sister's 24th birthday (she was struck by a car when she was 10). We hung out after he got off work, before I went to visit Lisa. It was a good visit, lighthearted despite what we were each thinking about. I lost a dear friend of mine when she was 10 (I was 16). She called me her big sister and I returned the expression. While the circumstances are very different, Joseph and I have always seemed to connect our "sisters" days together. When we said good-bye he got choked up and thanked me for being a constant support during "these" times of year. We're off to another theme park on Friday. Seems every year we go to Islands of Adventure before I go back to school. This will be the 5th time we've done this. We've both talked about "us." Neither one of us wants a relationship right now, but it's hard to deny the emotions neither one of us has gotten rid of. It's all so confusing because I know that he's not good for me and he'll only drag me down. I'm off to get my doctorate in psychology and his greatest goal is to work at Busch Gardens the rest of his life. Sure there is something to be said for loving your job, but shouldn't that only apply if the job is beneficial to your life. He barely makes enough money to get by and is still stunted by the debt he got himself into 5 years ago. He wants to live in the same sleepy town he's in now, which is not at all my goal. Yesterday we got on to how he was going to ask me to marry him before I broke things off. Luckily we were hot and sweaty and I'd just pounded a drink (I really promise I'm not an alcoholic, although I realize it sounds like it) so I could play off any emotions on the tipsy-ness that was setting in. Oy!

I thought I'd gotten over him. I tried so hard to get him out of my life and my heart. Yet, now, I feel I'm being drawn back into him and I don't know how to stop it. I don't want to be that girl who always has to have a boyfriend, although it appears I am. I really just don't know what to think or feel. Perhaps I should stop over-analyzing everything and just go with the flow.

I didn't think I had anything to post today. After starting an e-mail to a newly dear friend, I realized I had a lot more going on in my head than I thought. I know none of this makes sense, but then I never do.

Suzy Homemaker

So yesterday I threatened to turn my mom in for insurance fraud. She wanted me to cook dinner for her and a friend. Now, while this may be a normal activity for a 20-something, it is not, however, a common occurrence for me. When I was in high school it was a rarity that I was actually home for dinner, let alone home long enough to attempt to cook. Now that I’m at school, we’re required to live in the dorms all four years. My cooking set up there consists of a mini-fridge, microwave, and toaster oven—not exactly your gourmet chef set up. So, I claimed that she must have been out to get the homeowner’s insurance money that we’d get once I burned the house down.

Not only was I supposed to cook, but the house was a mess and there was nothing in the house to cook with. Being the good little daughter that I am, I ran errands and went grocery shopping, and cleaned the house before starting on my cooking endeavor. I should invite some friends over now. The house looks great, if I do say so myself. I suppose since I’m not working this summer, this is the least I can do for my mom feeding me and putting a roof over my head.

I loved Mami’s cooking in the Dominican Republic and stood over her should a few times and took notes. My recipes, however, are less than specific. For example, the dish I was attempting to make last night included the following instructions: water, tomatoes, garlic, salt, onions, jalapeño…boil and blend. While that might work out for an experienced cook, I was less than convinced of my abilities to create something edible from this. But, I tried. Everything was going fairly well until it came time for the blend step. Being the brilliant Honors College student that I am, I put the boiling concoction into the blender, held the top down, and pressed liquefy. It didn’t take very long for the top to become unbearably warm, causing me to jerk my hand off the lid. All I could see was tomato goo flying all over our kitchen. Luckily, this premonition prompted me to turn the blender off before the top came rocketing off. At this point I realized it was probably not a bad idea to let it cool a bit before I went back to trying to puree everything.

The sauce turned out okay, a little watery (in taste and texture) and didn’t even have a hint of a kick to it. My guinea pigs found not fault with it, but knowing the exquisite taste that came from Mami’s hands, I knew it wasn’t up to par. I poured too much sauce on the nachos, too. But, it didn’t taste all that bad. All in all, it was a pretty decent. We had green beans and canned pears along with it. Mom had requested that I buy a cantaloupe. I tried to acquiesce this request, but after I looked at them all, picked up a few, sniffed them, shook them, and knocked on them I determined that I hadn’t the slightest idea on how to pick out a melon. Tres Leches and Key Lime Pie (made by the grocery store bakery) rounded out the meal with some Bacardi O3 for the after dinner conversation.

It was a pretty nice evening, particularly for my mom who’d been at work all day and her friend who has been attending to her dying father for the past three weeks. After the evening was over my mom went into the kitchen to get something to drink. She was shocked to find it spotless. She hadn’t seen me cleaning as I went nor cleaning at any other point in time. Okay, I know I’m bragging, but I’m proud of my limited Suzy Homemaker skills!!

Morning Antics

Bacon, my cat, left a note by the computer informing us that the litter box was not clean to his standards--how special. I cleaned it, but we don't have any crystals and not a ton of litter (his preference is a thin layer of Tidy Cat Odor Crystals on the bottom of the box covered by Wal-mart brand litter half filling the box). It will suffice for now, but probably not for very long. Oop- he just came out of the potty room and is yelling at me. Oy!

And I thought chicks were supposed to be the ones that are high maintenance!!

Drama

LP is most certainly correct; my relationship with my ex-boyfriend is like a bad soap opera. Not like the LA soap operas that start and end in one season. No, our relationship is like the US soap operas that run for years and years and it doesn't seem to matter how much time you've lost in the middle, when you tune back it, it's always just about the same. It all started almost exactly 4 years ago.

We met, started dating, and fell in love faster than I care to admit. Everyone found it a bit odd that a 17 year-old senior in high school and a 21 year old living on his own would have much in common, but we did. We were on the same level and our relationship flourished for the first year. Then it was time for me to go away to school. Granted my new location was 2.5 hours away as opposed to the 1 hour away I used to be, but our relationship suffered not because of the distance but because of the maturity growth spurt I had upon arriving at college (a fairly normal occurrence as far as I can tell). As far as maturity goes, I was rapidly growing and changing and he was as stagnant as the day I met him. We fought and fought and fought, broke up more times than I care to try to count, half-ass dated other people (mainly as a point to the other that we were desirable on the market), and as always, wound up back together, miserable. This went on for two more years. Finally, last May, I got fed up. I refused to argue with him, refused to play along. I was on my way out to Colorado to work at a children's summer camp for 10 weeks. I told him that we'd go our separate ways, no attachments, for 10 weeks and at the end of things we'd see how we felt. I fully intended to go and get over him. However, when I got there I was so lost and alone. I reached out to him for comfort as he'd been the only one to fill that role for the previous 2.5 years. I got nothing in return. For 6 weeks I barely heard from him and when I did, we FOUGHT. I took that as my sign and got over him.

Colorado was magnificent. I made some incredible friends and had a very successful summer (personal growth wise). Among the friends I made was a 35 year old cardiac surgeon. Of course I didn't expect anything to come of that friendship and barely considered it as such. However, there's no denying when you "click" with someone. Despite our 15 years age difference, we found ourselves spending a good amount of time together, engaged in VERY good conversation. When it was clear that our interest in each other spanned more than just our current friendship, I made my non-sexual intentions EXPLICIT. Everything seemed copasetic. I expected that our relationship would end with the summer, as I live in FL and he's well established in CO.

I came back to FL and made it overly clear that I was NOT interested in rekindling the dampened flame between my and my ex. He, however, was under a different impression. Although he never admitted it at the time, he was apparently prepared to ask me to marry him within the year. He wasn't ready for that kind of commitment and I wasn't prepared to make that commitment to him based on his state. We went out separate ways and things got U-G-L-Y!!! His friends and I had become close in our 3 years of friendship, so they weren't ready to kick me out of their lives based on him. However, it became readily evident that we could NOT be in the same room with each other without a scene. Since it was also apparent which of the two was starting and causing the scene, they continued to invite me over and keep me a part of their lives. The main couple I'm speaking of is the parents of my God-Daughter, my ex's best friend from high school and his wife, also a good friend from high school. We were all pretty fed up with the shenanigans and the immaturity, so we continued our communication and relationship. None of us had much communication with my ex at all. He continued to call and harass me. I'm one of those people who will take quite a bit but have the inability to write people off. My mom has pointed out that during some of my growing pain spats with various female friends, I have had no problem cutting them out of my life. My response to that is always the same: while I make no attempt at reviving the friendship, nor do they; conversely, while I am making no attempt to revive my relationship with my ex, he IS.

Meanwhile, my psuedo-boyfriend from CO continued to call. We continued to have incredible conversations and it wasn't long before we were talking several times everyday. I took advantage of a four day weekend over Veterans Day to go up and see him. I wound up taking care of the poor guy, he'd come down with strep. Everything was going well and while we wouldn't admit it to ourselves, each other, or anyone else, we were falling HARD for each other. Then December rolled around and our worlds' shattered. He was diagnosed with testicular cancer. Because of various personal reasons, he'd suspected this for quite sometime but hadn't done anything about it. Due to the time delay, the cancer had spread to his liver. Now, it's just about un-fightable. The information took a big toll on both of our mental healths and on our relationship. I'm young and have my whole life ahead of me and he didn't want to bring me down or hold me back. So he's pushed me away. I'm not pleased with this move, but I am beginning to understand it. For awhile, I let other people sway my thoughts and started to believe that he'd made the whole thing up and had been lying to me. After a long conversation with a dear friend of mine yesterday, I decided I'd been wrong and shouldn't have allowed others to change what I felt. The person I talked to was also from CO. She and I'd become friends as we worked together through the summer. Her family has known this man since before she was added to the family, so he's like a second dad to her. Although she hadn't talked to him in awhile, she confirmed that he was legitimately sick and became very upset/worried when I explained what had (or probably better put, what hadn't transpired) between the two of us.

Now, we switch back to the ex. There had been literally NO contact from me to him since April. He'd sent me an e-mail while I was out of the country. It was heartfelt and addressed a lot of personal, difficult issues. I chose to respond. I wasn't exactly pleasant, but I wasn't exactly mean either. I laid everything out on the line, finally verbalizing all my emotions and thoughts. It was a tough letter, but it had to be done. Instead of fighting me, he accepted what I had to say and again asked for another chance at friendship. I told him we'd have to see. It finally came to a point where my best friend was in the mental hospital, my relationship with my friend from CO was over, who knows what health situation he was in as well, all my friends are out of town or busy or something. I was lost and plummeting downward rather quickly. I knew I needed to get out and just about the only person I could think of to turn to was him. Our excursion rekindled some old positive emotions, while at the same time I was reminded of the reasons I had had to walk away.

So here I am, in the middle of this all with a plethora of emotions for two different people, neither of which is good for me but both of which I have a strong connection to. Sound like a soap opera yet?? And to think, this was the short version. ;)

Fun & Pain

So after all my whining, I decided to take a nap. The phone rang about an hour later. It was my ex full of his normal entourage of excuses begging for my forgiveness. At first I just gave him hell and wouldn't budge about wanting to do anything. Finally I realized that if I didn't give him a chance to make things up to me, I'd be sitting at home feeling sorry for myself. So, I hopped in the car and made the drive, yet again. We went to Sea World, one of our favorite places to visit. It was rather awkward hanging out with this person I dated for three years, trying to figure out how to be just friends. He was sweet and we didn't argue (SHOCKINGLY). He again bid my forgiveness, claimed to have matured and "seen the error of his ways," and asked for the chance to be friends. The afternoon went rather well and I didn't have to think about anything for a few hours while the dolphins and seals and everything else did tricks and jumps and gobbled down fish. It was the break from reality that I'd been needing. Afterward, he took me to my favorite restaurant. Since it's an hour and a half away, I don't get to frequent it. A couple of strong drinks mixed with three hours of sleep put him at the drivers wheel and me completely incapable of driving the remaining hour home. I wasn't so sure about crashing at his place, but he swore he'd take the couch. Despite all of that, we wound up staying up for awhile talking about life and love and us and stuff. It was nice to get things out in the open.

We both slept in, then ate a late "breakfast." I was supposed to visit my friend in the hospital during visiting hours today. I knew her mom had gone to see her yesterday because she was having such a rough time. I wanted to see how she was and what was going on before I drove all the way out there (it's an hour away from my house and 1.5 away from where I was). She told me how much trouble they were having with her. She's not listening, acting out. Everyone is either with her or against her, and since no one understands her, they're all against her. She "attempted" to slit her wrists with a plastic knife. Although, she admitted that she knew it wouldn't work; she just wanted them to know how desperate she was since they aren't listening to her. Her mom drove up there and still wasn't able to see her because she was unmanageable. She's not being personally monitored 24 hours a day. I'm not really sure what set off this downward spiral; a week ago she was doing so well. Given all of this, we decided it would be better if I called to make sure she'd be able to have visitors. They told me not to come. My morale plummeted once again.

I decided I didn't want to drive home at that particular moment because I was so upset. We decided to watch a movie to let things cool down. No sooner did the movie end then did my phone ring. It was her. She was hurt and upset and violent. I tried to explain that she needed to go with the flow and try to get along with the nurses and the doctor. She didn't want to hear that. She was livid that they'd had the nerve to tell me not to come. She is starting to put me in with "them"--those on the outside, those against her. I tried to appeal to her goals, i.e. getting better and coming home. That certainly backfired. So, I stayed for dinner; no use driving with tears streaming down my face.

I'm so frustrated and hurt at this point. I can't do any more for her. I don't even know if I can continue doing what I have been doing. I know that I can't abandon her now, but my strength is wearing thin. Thanks for all your continued support, it means more than I can tell you.

Talk about Rejection

Warning: Full blown temper tantrum

So today was fun. After three hours of horribly restless sleep, I got up and attempted to get ready for a day out. First I made a mess of the bathroom (don't ask, I just can't do anything the simple way). Then I went to the chiropractor to get my neck yanked on and to see what rides I could or couldn't go on. As soon as I walked in the door I managed to say just the wrong thing to the secretary/wife and royally piss her off. Oops. Then I get in the car to start my hour drive over to my ex's house (on the way to Orlando). I called him to let him know I was on my way. Cell phone's off and the house line is picking up after one ring. I figure he's still sleeping, maybe wasn't expecting me so early. I get 3/4 of the way there and hit traffic. I decided to take the opportunity to call again and see if he was up. Same phone situation. At this point I'm starting to think maybe things aren't that normal. I wouldn't care if he had an overnight visitor, I'd feel sorry for her really...however, it would be rather awkward to ring the bell and introduce myself as the ex to the latest lay. So I called a friend of mine who lives near him and always works at a truck stop where his car frequently winds up (I told him not to buy that POS). Nope, car's not there. I drive by his house, not a single car in the driveway and still no answer to any phone. At this point I'm steaming and left a not so sweet voicemail. I figured, his mom's been sick, his grandmother is old, perhaps something went array last night. So I called his mom (who lives in the same neighborhood). Nope, no word from him. She was under the impression he was at work. Called his best friend (who is still one of my close friends), perhaps he's heard something...no answer. So I head down to the truck stop because my friend doesn't want me to drive back upset. There is something innately uncomfortable about a 20-something, blonde chick wondering around a truck stop. While I could probably hold my own in car talk, I am no match for stuttering, dirty males who can't seem to figure out that those aren't my eyes. After awhile I'd had enough of that and decided to just suck it up and go home. My mom tried to convince me to go to the theme park alone, like that would make me feel less lonely and abandoned. Or perhaps I could just wonder around the outlet malls. Terrific idea, I'll wonder aimlessly with no one to talk to, in and out of stores with no purpose and not a single penny to spend. That will definitely make me feel better. So I continue home. I finally hear back from his best friend, he's heard nothing either.

So here I am the chick who gets stood up by everyone, including her desperate ex-boyfriend. I'm going to go crawl under the covers and pretend I don't exist, since no one else seems to know that I do.

Sleep?? What's that??

There's something overly discouraging about lying in bed, starring at your ceiling for two hours straight knowing that you want to be out the door in 6 hours and that your body needs it's minimum 8 hours rest to be even slightly productive (or amiable).

But then, I don't have to be productive tomorrow. However I do have to be on guard. I'm taking a day off from life--a day where I don't have to think. The plan is to spend the day with an old "friend" terrorizing some Orlando theme park. Sure, I know I'm playing with fire and I'll probably get burned, again, somewhere down the line. But, there comes a point when the dust settles and you look around to see who's still standing on your side. When you find there's only one person left, the fact that he's your needy, annoying ex-boyfriend seems less than important. Perhaps I'm leading him on despite the fact that I've made my intentions overly clear, and perhaps it's not a good idea given the insurmountable sexual tension between us. But then, I've gotten to the point where I just don't care. I need to get out of this house. I need to have a good time. I need to feel like myself again. And I need to do it without spending money (doesn't hurt that he works for a theme park so he gets in free to all of them and I have passes left over from our dating days). If nothing else, we always had fun hitting up the theme parks together (a testament to his overwhelming immaturity). So what the hell, right?

I know, I know. I'm not really buying it either. We had fun together, sometimes, but we're not good together (as a couple). I know this is a bad idea, but I really just don't care (at least I'm telling myself that). Above all, I really just want to get out and do something to make me smile. He's been trying to be friends since we broke up over a year ago, but he just can't handle it. This summer we've been e-mailing and that's seemed to be pretty okay. He wants another chance, I want a friend who won't drain the shit out of me. So, maybe one day out won't be so bad??

WHOO HOO

Check out the Sources of Inspiration section of my side bar!! I finally won my first attempt to play with HTML code. But I figured I owed it to my loving supporters!! Sorry, just a bit proud of my new addition.

Counting the fallen...

Our local news just covered the memorial service of a 25 year old solider who was killed in Afghanistan. He's one of 16 service men from Florida that have fallen in Afghanistan. Iraq has taken 76 more Floridians.

The overall numbers are so overwhelming that I have trouble processing them. The smaller (yet all too large), closer-to-home numbers are what seem to get me. It's so hard to imagine while I'm living my pathetic life, going to school, working toward my goals, people my age are out there fighting for my ability to do that--dying to allow me to think, feel, express, learn, breathe, and live. That's a hard concept for me to get my meek mind around.

I don't pretend to take a side on the politics of the war. Although, the human side of it is unavoidable. I pray, equally, for all those involved on every aspect of the war. God (or whatever you care to call the Supreme Being I choose to believe in), be with them all and bring peace to all the nations involved before more lives, civilian or military, are sacrificed.

Quiero regresar...

buenas días, de nuevo
el calor y la humedad
jugo de mango
arroz y habichuelas
pan
siempre con amor
la brisa
la lluvia al mediodía
mi siesta
la gente en el patio
Moisés es la escalera
las novelas llorando en la sala
un beso y buenas noches

Quiero oler la almuerza en la cocina
Quiero oír los niños en el patio
Quiero respirar el aire limpio
Quiero soñar debajo del mosquitero
Quiero estar en los brazos de Mami
Sólo pasé mesas allí
Pero ya la falto
Quiero regresar

everybody's fool

perfect by nature
icons of self indulgence
just what we all need
more lies about a world that

never was and never will be
have you no shame don't you see me
you know you've got everybody fooled

look here she comes now
bow down and stare in wonder
oh how we love you
no flaws when you're pretending
but now i know she

never was and never will be
you don't know how you've betrayed me
and somehow you've got everybody fooled

without the mask where will you hide
can't find yourself lost in your lie

i know the truth now
i know who you are
and i don't love you anymore

it never was and never will be
you're not real and you can't save me
somehow now you're everybody's fool

Evanescense

Forgive the random insertion of lyrics. I'm coming down off a drink (that I probably shouldn't have had anyway) and trying to figure out where I miss the turn off in my previous relationship. How is it that he fooled me so long?

My breaking point

There's only so much I can do for everyone else, only so far I can be pushed. I'm only one person, meek, lost, weak, and uncertain. There's only so much I can do. I've got to figure this whole life thing out for myself before I can do it for you, too. Yet, when you come to me, I can't turn away. I try with all I know how to help you. There's only so much I can do. All my suggestions, all my attempts, they feel like so little compared to your mounting problems. For some, that's all they need, a hug and a friend and someone to stand beside them. And my small efforts are appreciated and I can continue to work on me. But for others, they take and take and take until I can't give anymore. Yet, they're upset when I can no longer bend, stretch, and maneuver to help them. It's not my fault that I can't fix your problem. There's only so much I can do. Turning to me time and time again. What about me?? Aren't my problems important, too?? Am I not allowed to feel?? Why must I hide what I am going through to save you?? I don't understand what you want from me. There's only so much I can do. I can't fix everything for everyone. Really, I can't fix much for anyone. I can love; that's about all I got but it's wearing thin. Love works two ways. I'll love you and support you and help you all I can, but it has to come back to me. I have to know you care. There's only so much I can do. You have to help me help you. If you're not strong enough to fix it, I won't be strong enough alone either. We have to work as a team to get through this. And when we're done, how about me. I need help, too. I've put it all aside to be there for you; it's your turn. I'm not asking for you to solve anything, not asking for a miracle. Just be my friend and love me as I have loved you. Just like you, I can't do this alone. There's really only so much I can do.