Well, all the stockings are stuffed and hung up, all the presents are wrapped and piled under the tree, and the kiddies are all fast asleep (though unlikely about sugar plums, I’m sure). So now for some ME time…a rarity for me on Christmas Eve. This is one of the first times in as long as I can remember that I haven’t spent Christmas Eve running around trying to get everything bought and wrapping into the wee hours. Yes, I’m one of those last-minute shoppers. Guilty as charged. It’s not that I forget or can’t do it…I just really, really dislike shopping. Especially Christmas shopping. I know, I know–a woman who hates to shop–oh the blasphemy!! Haha. Sorry, but it’s true. I don’t mind it if I have an idea of what I’m getting or something specific to buy, but just going and shopping for the hell of it–yeah, no that’s not my thing. Firstly, ever since that situation years back, I hate the crowds and I can’t sand to be around a lot of people at the same time. I get all claustrophobic and anxious and my anxiety level goes through the roof and start feeling panicked. Secondly, I hate the lines–yeah, I’m not patient at all. No offense, but some people are absolutely bat-shit crazy when it comes to shopping. I mean Black Friday shopping one thing–but some people are like that no matter what the occasion. I must say I do find it a little humorous when people go all ape-sh*t over sales though. Most of them completely oblivious to the fact that what the store is actually doing is inflating the price, then dropping it back down to the original (or thereabouts) price…therefore not “saving” the customer much at all, if anything. It’s a ploy to make it appear that it does, but it’s not. So in that respect…yes, it’s a little funny, or it is to me at least.

Anywho….whatever shall I do with my free time… hmm, what to do. Me thinks I’ll do a little more “fine-pointing” on the details on my upcoming move. Yep. I’m leaving. For real this time. I’ve already decided and I’m not changing my mind this time. I’m doing it on my own, so there’s no hiccups to hold the move off or people changing their minds. And no one gets to have a say this time either. I don’t want anyone’s opinion or input. Nothing. Nada, Zilch. Nothing. That’s what’s been at the root of all this…me listening to what everyone else wants and to hell with myself and what I want. Well, not anymore. Now I’m doing things for myself and to hell with the rest of them.

I need to get away from here. Away from THEM. I just can’t take it anymore. I’m so miserable here and people are cruel. And by people–for the most part–I mean my family. Things aren’t going so well lately…again. In fact, things have pretty much gone to hell in recent weeks…more so than usual. Which is saying a lot. My grams and I are at war with one another right now and we’re not on speaking terms at the moment. She and I got into big time last week. I had my niece’s concert to go to one night and planned to drive to my sister’s right after it was over for the arrival of the twins. As I was packing my things, I learned that one of my journals was missing. Naturally, I flipped out. I know it’s my brother who took it because he’s one of the only ones who would stoop that low and do something like that. After all, he’s done it before. I was pissed and refused to go anywhere until my grams made him give it back. But she wouldn’t do a damn thing. She just told me that I was being selfish and to pull it together. Oh how I lost it after she said that. “Pull it together”–she really said that. That’s when I let her have it. I mean hell, doesn’t she know that all I’ve been doing  is “pulling it together.” all these years. Since the rape, I’ve done nothing but suck it up. I had to.  I couldn’t tell her or anyone else, for that matter, about the rape or the abortion I’d had. I was too ashamed and scared to say anything. I wouldn’t have been able to face her I don’t think if I had. I’ve kept the secret from her all these years. It wasn’t until the other night that I actually told her–and that was out of pure fury, more than anything else. She insinuated like I was overreacting and that it was just a stupid notebook. So much for what she knows. It’s a hell of a lot more than that, damn it. It’s so, so much more. It’s hundreds of pages of my heart and soul. It’s all of me, all that I have. Which is one of the main reasons why I want it back. Every minute that it’s in my brother’s hands, it has the ability to inflict and release a whole lot of HELL. Just like it did the last time when he stole my journal, read it, and spent every chance he could throwing all my secrets and regrets in my face. The rape, too. That the biggest blow. He used that night to beat me down. He even took it to a further vindictive level going so far as to embellish on my attack by calling me a whore and accusing me of having sex with half a dozen guys at that party, which is NOT true. My grams is always telling me to ignore him, but how the hell am I supposed to do that when he’s using that night–and that HELL–against me? I know they’re just words, but words hurt. God, they hurt so damn much. I wish I could say that they don’t, but they do. I wish it were that easy to just ignore him, but it’s not that easy. At all.

She can accuse me of overreacting, but I’m not. It’s called self-preservation. I need that journal before he starts gathering up everything he needs to use for his verbal attack arsenal. There’s too much in that journal that he could find to use against me. And he’ll do it the first chance he gets.  I know it. Which is why I’m so damn scared. God-knows what he will tell everyone. I  don’t want the world knowing my business or getting in the way of my life. The last thing I need is for the words I wrote and the secrets to get out, especially in this small town. Everyone knows too much about everyone as it is.  I don’t feel like giving them any more ammunition, and I won’t–not if I have anything to say about it.

I hate him. I really do. He used to be my brother, but he’s turned into someone else entirely. He’s a monster and vindictive son-of-a-bitch, he really is. My grams can say what she wants, but I know exactly what he’s capable of…and the damage he can cause. So while it might not mean anything to her, it DOES mean something to me. And knowing that–she still sided and defended him. So I told her I was done with her. Done with all her bullshit and her assumptions and accusations and her just plain bitching. So done. She thinks she knows everything. She thinks she knows me. Well…she doesn’t. She doesn’t know a damn thing about me or who I am. And she hasn’t for a long time. The longer I stay, the worse it’ll get. So I have to leave. Call it running away, call it impulsive, call it reckless…call if anything you want. I call it self-preservation…

Anyhow, enough with the negative…Merry Christmas y’all!!! 🙂




Two Little Monkeys…

So it’s been one hell of a week so far, to say the least. And hectic like crazy, thanks in largely to my sister having her babies. She went to the hospital and was admitted on Tuesday for a planned induction Tuesday night. Though its technically only the 38th week, they consider 37 weeks full-term for twins…thus the inducing. Even so, it’s been slow going. Fortunately, she made a lot of progress yesterday. They broke her water and gave her an epidural and then it was pretty much just a waiting game from there. Which is what we did. We waited ALL day and still no babies. Admittedly, I was a little disappointed when visiting hours were up and it was time to leave for the night. I had really hoped to be there when she finally had them. Just IN the hospital, I mean…not the delivery room itself. Not that I would have been permitted in there had I even WANTED to be since it wasn’t a typical L&D room she was going to be delivering in. Because it was twins and because of all the complications that arose throughout the pregnancy, she was considered high-risk. As such, she had to deliver in an actual OR room. They wanted her to at least try to deliver the twins naturally, if she could, but just in case anything did go wrong and they had to do an emergency c-section, she’d be right there, ready and prepped to go.

After four long days of unsuccessfully trying every which method of inducing that there is…they finally ended up taking the babies by c-section around 9 o’clock this morning. Honestly, they really didn’t have a choice at that point. She wasn’t dilating, which was only putting more stress on both of the babies. And on herself, obviously. She had a time-release IV drip epidural, but even that stopped being effective at one point overnight. She was in a lot of pain…so much so that she was literally delirious, my mother said. So they did an emergency cesarean around 9 this morning. We pretty much pegged it almost from the beginning that they’d go through all that they did for nothing, and end up just taking the babies by c-section in the end anyhow. We were right…which was somewhat frustrating. I get they’re just doing their jobs and that there are procedures that have to be followed…but honestly, I don’t think it was right for them to put her through four days of that hell…just to end up giving her a c-section after all.

Frustration aside, it was all worth it. All that mattered was that they were healthy, which they are. Tyler Joseph came into the world at 9:08 am weighing 8 lbs. 4 oz, followed one minute later by his little brother Jacob Michael, who weighed in at 5 lbs. 14 oz. Tyler’s a little chunker compared to his brother, but they are both perfect. I know you’re not supposed to play favorites, but between you and me, I’m on Team Jacob…or Team “Jakey”, as I call him. Tyler’s going to be the tough, rowdy one I think and Jakey’s going to be our little introvert. He’s so tiny and cute…they both are…and I just can’t get enough of them. I love them to pieces already and they’re aren’t even a day old yet.

It was pretty emotional. Not just for me, but everyone else as well. We’re all just so happy for my sister and brother-in-law…my sister especially. She’s gone through hell and back for the twins, and then some. She had to endure all the IVF rounds with all  the shots and the medications. She miscarried more than once and had actually thought she’d miscarried the twins early on in the pregnancy, but thankfully didn’t. Then she found out that she had gestational diabetes, meaning everything she ate, drank, and did had to be strictly monitored every day. I know it’s been really hard on her, but now she can relax. It’s still such a strange concept to me–my big sister having a baby and her becoming a Mommy. But she’s going to make a great one. She deserved this. She deserved these boys. And god knows, she earned it. Earned them…And here they are :


tyler                                           <3TYLER JOSEPH<3

jacob7                                    <3 JACOB MICHAEL (JAKEY)<3

Almost Here…

What are little boys made of?

What are little boys made of?

Snakes and snails and puppy-dog tails.

That’s what little boys are made of.

**(Nursery Rhyme Circa 19th Century)**

*Tyler Joseph @ 38 Weeks Ultrasound*
*Tyler Joseph @ 38 Weeks Sonogram*

I am completely, utterly, absolutely smitten with this little guy…and I haven’t even met him yet…Soon…

Only 3 more days…Only 3 more days…

Anxious & Impatient…Waiting…



Loss Is Loss No Matter WHO You Are…

So I came across a post on my news feed on Facebook earlier that kind of rubbed me the wrong way, so to speak…of this guy complaining about the statuses regarding actor Paul Walker’s death over this past weekend. This was the actual post (and I really hope I’m not alone in my frustration over this):

“Oh I didn’t know all of you were that close to Paul Walker. Pathetic, how someone none of you personally knew matters so much, yet all you chicks are ready to kill yourself over it and dudes act like they just lost their big brother.”

Yeah…wow. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about the 1st amendment and the freedom to voice one’s opinion, but come on…seriously? That’s a bit much, don’t you think? If you ask me, it’s just cold…not to mention just plain rude. I mean, granted some people are going a bit overboard on this…and yes, I too find it a little odd how insanely crushed and heartbroken some fans are claiming to be…not for the fact that I think it’s pathetic–but rather that I think it’s somewhat insulting and offending and it kind of diminishes the suffering of those who actually knew him, you know? I don’t know, that’s just how it feels to me. Still, people mourn and grieve in their own ways and for their own reasons. And nowhere does it say that you can’t be saddened by the loss of someone you never knew or met. After all, I mean, no one thought it strange when fans lined up by the thousands to pay their respects to Elvis and women all over the country cried for weeks…same goes for Princess Diana and the handful of other celebrities that have died so sudden and so tragically over the years. Or for that matter, when the country came together to mourn the lives that were lost on 9/11…or the victims of the Boston Marathon Bombing…or the 26 victims from the Sandy Hook school shooting tragedy. Most people didn’t know those individuals either, but they mourned them nonetheless. So, tell me please, who’s to say or dictate who someone can or cannot grieve over? It just doesn’t seem right.

I was lucky. I didn’t lose a friend or loved one on 9/11, but I sat at my desk and cried along with everyone else in my math class as we watched it all unfold on the TV at the front of the room. They may have been complete strangers, but they were still victims of an unjust attack who didn’t deserve to die that day. Moreover, they were still human beings. They were mothers and fathers and siblings and friends and neighbors. They had families and plans and dreams. They had the rest of their lives ahead of them. Just as those in Boston did. And just as those 20 1st graders and 6 teachers in Newtown, Connecticut did. Paul Walker’s no different. That said, I think it’s just wrong to call people pathetic for well…caring–is essentially what it is. For being sympathetic to the loss of someone they never met. For actually having the ability to empathize and show kindness towards a complete stranger. If you ask me, the only “pathetic” individual here is the one (and those others saying similar things) that complained in the above post, for he must not have a sympathetic, caring bone in his body. And for that, I pity him. I really do.

A man died. He was only 40 years old. He was a father, a son, a brother, a friend…people loved him, respected him, and looked up to him. He loved his family. He loved life. He was kind and charitable. By all accounts, he was a good person. That he was a celebrity and an actor–(and a gorgeous as sin one as well, I might add)–well, that’s not all that he was. Society puts far too much emphasis on fame and celebrity and they cast these individuals as these god-like figures. So in turn, people get too caught up in the glamour and dazzle that they forget that these are just people…individuals like you and I…that just so happen to have a job that pays them millions of dollars. That doesn’t make them superior or invincible…and it certainly doesn’t make them immortal. They live, they breathe, they feel, they love, they hurt, they bleed, they die…just like anyone else.

Personally, I’ve never really bought into the whole Hollywood hype. I’m not sure why really. (Ha you know what…maybe it was that love/fan letter I sent to my very first celeb/heart-throb crush Andrew Keegan when I was like 10 and only got some stupid autographed photo in return that turned me off from it all..LOL.) No, but really, I don’t see what’s so great about being a celebrity and having all that fame…aside from the money, maybe. Even then though–all that lack of privacy and the constant intrusions into your personal life and the press hounding you and paparazzi jumping out from bushes just to snap pics of you in sweats and no makeup…well, call me crazy, but no amount of money in the bank is worth THAT. Not for me, that is. I value my privacy far too much for that.

Anyhow, to the Paul Walker RIP haters…all I have to say is this…if it bothers you so much, then turn off your news feed. Or better yet, ignore the notifications like the rest of us do when we see things we don’t want to read. And while you’re at, you may want to buy a chisel for that ice-cold heart of yours.  Just sayin’…


Image(© Lyrics Used In Image Manipulation: A Life That’s Good)

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