You Never Know Who You’ll Meet.

So I talked to the potential new roommates today, Andy & Robyn—a really nice couple I met through that have a gorgeous place right off Whites Creek in Nashville. They’re actually the ones that initiated contact with me, rather than how it usually works on these kinds of sites and it’s the person looking for a place that will typically contact the person(s) with a place/room available. They both seem really nice and easy-going and from the sounds of it, Robyn has a bit of an interest in art as well. I talked to her briefly and learned that she even taught a class at Watkins, my school—AND that she has family up here in Central New York (literally minutes from me)…so it’s definitely a small, small world. It was only one phone call, but I think the arrangement could work. I mean, the location is amazing—no more driving an hour back and forth between Murfreesboro and Nashville. And it’s right by Briley, so no Interstates—which of course means no constantly getting stuck in rush hour traffic when you need to go/get out of downtown Nashville. And for those of you that are all too familiar with rush hour traffic in Nashville—you know just how valuable that is/can be.

My family of course think I’m crazy to move in with a couple of complete strangers…again. True, this isn’t my first foray into living with strangers…the other time being with the 2 guys I moved in with out in Joelton that I found through Craigslist. Granted, that decision might have been a bit hasty on my part and it could, in all honestly, have ended NOT so well for me—“Um, Hellooo Craigslist Killer anyone?!”, as my sister would say—but it didn’t. The guys were nice and normal enough. And besides, this time it’s a couple—which is a hell of a lot safer—statistically, speaking—than if I were to find another place to live with just guys.

My family—they’re so damn paranoid. That—and they watch too much damn Law & Order, I think. Not everyone is some sadistic serial killer or rapist out to get me. And yes, these people are strangers and I know essentially nothing about them and yet I’m going to be living in an enclosed space alongside them, but so what? My mother’s always saying that she doesn’t know where I got it from, my daredevil behavior—and my ability to just throw caution to the wind and jump head first into something with little or no disregard for the risks. That she’ll never understand how I could leave everyone and travel so far away and actually be comfortable while I surround myself with strangers. My grams says I have gypsy blood. She’s probably right. I like meeting new people. It’s just my nature. And that was part of the reason why I moved to Nashville—to start over and meet new people—to make a new life for myself. If I wanted to sit holed up inside an apartment or room all day and having no contact with anyone beyond my four walls, I would have stayed in New York instead of moving to Nashville. I moved because I didn’t want that. I still don’t. I’ve tried telling my family they don’t have to worry, but they won’t listen. They think I’m being reckless. Unsafe. But whether they like it or not, sometimes you just have to have faith in people. I don’t want to live my life looking over my shoulder or thinking the worst of people. That’s no way to live. I want to live, believing that people are inherently good. I don’t trust in much or too many people these days, but the one thing I do trust—and need/want to trust—is myself – and my instincts. And my instincts are telling me these people are good people. That they aren’t serial killers who are going to cut me up into pieces and bury me all over their back yard. And that they aren’t of those weird couples with some decked out and super creepy sex dungeon in their basement or god knows what the hell else (Hey, I’ve seen Law & Order: SVU!). I think I’ll be safe. LOL

Hopefully I can get the car fixed quickly, so I’ll be down there by the end of the week. I might not have much to bring with me thanks to the fuckers that illegally threw away all my belongings that were in my apartment, but I’m still leaving. I’m not staying here in New York any longer than I need to be. It’s bad enough I’ve been stuck here this additional time while this car crap gets figured out. It’s time to go home. Past time…  xoMESSIE


Only Tennessee.

Low-lyin’ clouds

Birds singin’ all night long

I see the hills in my dreams

And hear the bells, hear the bells in my bones

Never thought I would give in

Now you’re underneath my skin


Only Tennessee

Only Tennessee can save me now

Lazy, long roads

Trees bending in the wind

I’m coming home


Wild flowers in the fields

In the fields of my mind

I feel the sunshine

It’s coming through


Never thought I would give in

Now you’re underneath my skin

Only Tennessee

Only Tennessee can save me now

(Song Credit: “Only Tennessee” — Written By: Claire Guerreso & Daniel Tashian)

I’m heading home to Nashville after this weekend. FINALLY. Even if I didn’t want to go and I wanted to stay her in NY — which I definitely DO NOT!! — I couldn’t. The lease for my apartment–the one I literally only lived in for 3 weeks, by the way–is up at the end of the month, so I have to pack all my things and move into my new place.

This is the part that sucks. The leaving. As glad and as excited I am to be going home and seeing my friends and everyone in Nashville again, I feel sad about leaving my family, the kids especially. When I first got here, back in July, the Twinnies–they didn’t even recognize me. It actually took them awhile to warm up to me at first. And now they’re all over me. Ty especially. He’s such a little lover. He’s always climbing into my lap and giving me hugs. My grams watches them during the day so we’ve made a routine, Ty and I, of taking an afternoon nap. He’ll climb on the bed, take my phone and open up the PBS kids app (all on his own!). He’ll watch the shows for a little while until I tell him it’s time to take a nap. Then he’ll hand me the phone, turn over so that he’s facing me, and then literally curl right up against me and fall asleep. He’s a big-time cuddler and it’s the cutest thing. I’m going to miss the little guy. So much. And Jakey–that kid is something else. He’s got a temper, that one. And he’s a little monkey, too. He’s always climbing on and jumping off from things…he’s totally fearless.

I hate to leave the girls, too–especially with everything that’s gone/going on with Emma and Avie and the whole custody/family court thing. Who knows what the hell their mother has up her sleeve and/or will try to do the next time she gets pissed and feels like being a bitch and taking the girls out of pure spite. Then there’s Angelina–she’s out of control. Her attitude is atrocious and she doesn’t seem to think that she has to listen to anyone. My mother instead of disciplining her like she should, just lets the bad behavior continue–as she’s allowed it to for years. As her first granddaughter, she spoiled the hell out of Angelina. She still spoils her. She let her get away with murder all these years and only now is she cracking down on the behavior…now that Angelina’s 12. Hell, she’s going to be a teenager. If they think she’s bad now, I can just imagine how she’ll be in a couple of years. They’re in for a hell of a time with her, I’m sure of it. And they’ve only got themselves to blame.

So anyhow, yeah. It’s time for me to go. And while I may be leaving, it’s not goodbye. So…I’ll see you on the flip-side New York. ‘Til then…


D.O.A — A Poem

I’m sure by now you’ve heard the rumor,

its probably making its way ’round that godforsaken town, no doubt.

How I packed up all I own

In the back of that Jeep Cherokee.

And headed South, to Tennessee.

Leaving everything and everyone

That ever meant a thing to me.

Needing to get away and to be free

So desperately.

Tearful goodbyes,

Pleading and persuading me to change my mind.

But not this time.

No turning back,

No looking in the rear-view mirror.

As I make my grand debut into the Real World.

With a heart so heavy that it physically hurts,

And the determination to make it work.

When that Friday morning came,

I drove off in the mix of snow and rain,

With nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

Knowing from that moment on,

Nothing would ever be the same.

That was the moment, the day, my whole life changed.

In hindsight,

If only I had stayed.

Maybe it wouldn’t be this way.

But I had to leave.

I had to get away.

‘Cause nothing here was ever gonna change.

And I couldn’t keep living my life this way.

Ashamed to go out, to show my face;

forced to shoulder all the blame.

The people in this town, they’re all the same

They’re gonna think what they want,

believe who they want

No matter what I do or say.

It’s always going to be this way; they’ll never change.

The way I see it, I had a choice to make.

I could choose to stay; continue to hide and bow my head in shame

Or sever ties with this town and run away.

I chose to escape.

With a suitcase and a dream

Said I was gonna find out what it truly means

To be young, wild, and free

Free from all the pain and memories

Free from him.

Free from this town,

All of it, everything.

Driving down the Interstate

900 hundred miles between where I’m going

And the place I once called home

Staring out at the open road ahead

Feeling somewhat lost, torn apart inside

Like something’s missing

Like something isn’t right.

Close my eyes against the blinding white light

That now fills my line of sight

As I flash back and wade through all the moments of my life

The good and bad

The happiness and strife

All those milestone moments that shape a life

A broken record with no music.

The perfect euphemism for my life.

I try to swerve, turn the wheel to the right

But I swerve a second too late.

No walking away this time

Neither luck nor God can save me now.

Can’t find traction, I’m spinning out.

A grief so raw and new,

Like petals on a recently-bloomed flower  

And reassurances don’t hold water

When you’re down to your final hour

And pity means even less

When you’re the body lying on the table

A tragic Jane Doe

Whose name no one knows.

All those dreams that now will never be.

 So much potential that the world will never get to see.

A split-second decision, one sharp swerve to the right.

A victim of fate on that dark night.

Lifeless and cold.

No chance to grow old.

No hope of survival.

A nameless Jane Doe

Declared dead on arrival.



What A Mess.

Can’t sleep. I’ve got too much on my mind…

I have my appointment with the neurologist today. My friend Alan was asking me the other day if I was nervous about it. I’m not really nervous, per se. Anxious is more like it. I just want to get it over with, to tell you the truth. And can you really blame me? It’s been over a month now. I’ve been to the ER and clinics probably a dozen times now–seen about that many doctors, if not more. I’ve been poked and prodded, tested, tried a dozen different meds…and I’m no closer to a cure or answer to these headaches than I was a month ago. According to my primary doc, there’s a good chance that there may be nothing we CAN do about them. I don’t want to believe that, but then, I’m so tired of the meds and the doctors. Above all, I’m sick of the headaches. My world pretty much consists of good days and bad days. And the good days aren’t really good days. They’re just days when the headaches are tolerable to the degree that I don’t wish I were one of those 2nd Amendment weirdo fanatics with the ability and means to literally put an end to them, once and for all. Don’t get me wrong…I’m not suicidal. I’m not. But you have no idea what it’s like to be in constant pain. I even wear sunglasses inside the majority of the time because the lights hurt–that’s how bad it is. And it’d be one thing if it were a here and there thing. But it’s not. It’s constant. And it sucks. It’s hell. Absolute physical hell. And I just want it to stop. So I can get back to my life. I want that so badly. So, so badly. At this point, I’d pretty much do anything to make that happen. To make them stop. Hopefully this doc will have the answers that the others didn’t. Hopefully. 😦

Moreover, today’s the day the others go before the family court judge about my nieces, Emma and Ava. My sister and grams hired a lawyer and they’re going to request that my grams be granted temporary custody of the girls while the whole thing gets situated…and I’m hoping beyond hope for a miracle–that the judge grants the request. It’s been almost a week since we’ve seen them and I miss them like crazy. It’s insane how quiet it’s been without them here. It just doesn’t feel right. It feels like something’s missing. Because something is. And that something is them. Honestly–and though I hate to admit it for fear I’ll somehow jinx things or something–I’m not holding my breath or anything for any good outcomes. I want to believe that the system will work the way it should and that justice will prevail for once…but history has given me nothing but doubt. Lots and lots of doubt. It’s hard to trust a system that you’ve seen fail you and so many people so many times over the years. It’s so hard. And yet, I want to hold on to the hope. Because it’s all that we have. All that my family and my grams have. All that those girls have. And in the end, that’s what matters. That’s ALL that matters. Those girls. Only them and no one else.

I keep thinking about them. They’re all I can think about. I’ve seen pics on Facebook that her boyfriend’s mother has posted–for show, no doubt–of them…and I don’t know what to think. It’s hard to explain, but they just don’t look or seem like the girls we know. Their smiles aren’t their smiles. They aren’t them. I wonder if they’ve asked about us. If they’ve asked to come home. If they’ve cried and begged. Pleaded with their mother to be returned to the place and the people they’ve known their whole lives. I can’t believe her. She makes me angry. So damn angry. How can she do this to them? Her own kids. It’s unconscionable. So wrong. And yet…It’s so her. God, I’d love to knock her off her high horse. Oh, yes.

At the same time, I can’t help but think about where the outcome of tomorrow’s hearing puts me in terms of my return to Nashville. The plan was to see the doctors and go back. After all, I have a lease and an apartment down there that I’m paying for…where my stuff is…where my responsibilities are. I have school starting in a couple of weeks. I can’t just not go back. And yet, I can’t just leave with things so up in the air like they are right now with the girls. It’s so complicated. And I’m so conflicted. I need to go back, yet I need to stay. And I can’t choose. I just can’t.

So I won’t. At least not right now.

But soon. I know. For soon, I’ll have no choice… :/


I’m Still Here.

It’s been awhile, so I figured I’d post a little update.  It’s been a crazy, hectic past couple of weeks. I’m back in New York. Yep, drove up last week to try and get these headaches taken care of. I can’t help but notice the blatant irony in that I had to drive 900 something miles to see doctors and specialists about an injury sustained in a CAR ACCIDENT. Talk about illogical. It makes no sense to me. I mean, the accident happened in Tennessee…and the insurance 100 perfect willing to pay all the medical bills, yet the specialists in Tennessee wouldn’t see me. I don’t get it. It’s a bunch of bureaucratic bullshit, if you ask me. And it’s not like I didn’t try. Hell, I must have called a dozen different places–that’s not including the places and specialists each ER referred me to–and nothing. I got absolutely nowhere. I did manage to get into this one family clinic back in Nashville, but the visit wasn’t very productive. The doctor basically just gave me a quick exam, asked me a bunch of questions, and sent me on my way with a couple of new headache prescriptions and the same old “referral to a neurologist” advice.

Now that I’m back up in New York, I had an appointment the other day with my primary care doctor so that she could refer me to a neurologist…which didn’t exactly go to well. And by that I mean I didn’t at all like what she had to say. For starters, she informed me that the reason I was having all these issues with these meds not working for the headaches is because the meds the other doctors down in Tennessee prescribed me were all for migraines…and that it’s not migraines that I’m having…they’re concussion headaches. Apparently there’s a difference. Yeah. So obviously, after she told me that, I asked her why they kept giving me meds for migraines then and she literally just shrugged and said that it’s probably because I was in pain and they were trying to help–and that they probably didn’t want to tell me that there was nothing they could do for me. Wonderful right? So they knew there was nothing they could do…yet they gave me meds after meds that didn’t help and in some cases actually made the headaches worse. Yeah…’cause that’s not messed up or anything. Ridiculous.

So anyhow, I asked her what I was supposed to do if there was apparently nothing that could be done for the headaches medication-wise. Brain rest, was her answer. Meaning no bright lights or being out in the sun for any length of time, no flashing lights, no loud noises, no focusing or concentrating on the computer screen…etc. You get the point. So basically I’m supposed to shut myself in a dark room and do nothing but sleep. She prescribed a few meds, one of which is supposed to at least help me sleep…and it does for a bit, but it does nothing for the headaches. And in the morning I just feel so groggy–i hate it. She also wants me to be seen at the Concussion Clinic in Syracuse and an ENT if the nosebleeds don’t let up. Maybe I’ll get some answers from one of those. All things considered, I highly doubt that’ll happen. But who knows?

Yeah…like that’s going to happen. I’m a photographer, I have editing to do with the computer. And right now, things are absolutely crazy with the film blowing up like it is. I’m in charge of the blog and the production company website in addition to having just designed the theatrical/promotional posters for the film because the graphic designer Alan hired submitted crap designs. I didn’t really plan on doing the posters, but I got tired of writing code for the website and was fooling around a bit in Photoshop. I figured what the hell and sent him the poster…and he loved it. Then he got back to me and asked me to do another one…so I did. So yeah, I’ve been busy.

*3BB's Theatrical Poster*
*3BB’s Theatrical Poster*

And it’s bound to get busier. But in an exciting, awesome, great sort of way! When I said the film was blowing up…I wasn’t kidding. It’s insane how much attention it’s gotten. And it’s official, the film’s World Premiere will be in Atlanta in October. Then there’s a few other festivals…Charleston, Chicago, and some festival in Minnesota I believe. But that’s not even the most exciting part. It gets even better. We got an invitation from Berlin’s (that’s Germany, folks!) International Film Festival next year to attend. With that invitation, we’re automatically entered into Sundance, Toronto, and Cannes (France) –the 4 biggest International film festivals. How incredible is that? And just last week when I stopped by Alan’s to grab something I’d left at his house before I left for NY, he shared the news that he’d just gotten another festival invitation–to ROME, ITALY!!! I heard that and I immediately went, “Yep, I’m definitely getting a passport now…” lol. It’s mind-blowing how much attention and acclaim this film has gotten…and a little overwhelming, the fact that I actually had a part in this film, this great project. I’m so grateful and unbelievably proud of everyone involved. This is truly an opportunity of a lifetime and I’m taking it…hell, I’m grabbing it with both hands!

Now if I could just get rid of these headaches, it’d be absolute BLISS!


Not Going Nowhere.

I’m starting to understand now why people who are in constant pain are always so miserable…it sucks. It really, really sucks. It’s been over a week now since the accident and the headaches STILL haven’t gone away. I’m beginning to think they’re never going to. At least, that’s how it feels right now, anyhow. I don’t get it. I went to the ER, I had the scans, I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing and taking the meds that the doctor told me take…and nothing. I’ve been taking the Percocet, Vicodin, and even the 800 mg Ibruprofen together and it hasn’t helped any, except to make me nauseous as hell. And throwing up just makes my head hurt even worse. I’m sure it doesn’t help that I haven’t had much sleep in the past week…but that’s not my fault. It’s a little hard to fall asleep when you have a splitting headache.


And to top it all off, there’s all the stress from the film and getting the photos  edited and finished, and we have the theatrical shoot tomorrow, so it’s been kind of crazy. Then there’s the deal with the car and the insurance company and the lawyers and I swear to God, if my head wasn’t already pounding, I’d scream. I probably sound and seem like I’m being a child and throwing a tantrum, but I don’t want to deal with all this. I really don’t. I don’t get why the damn insurance company went and totaled the car. I mean, I do–it’s cheaper to total it than actually pay for the repairs–but still. Those repairs the guy noted–I honestly don’t think they even need to be done right now. He said something about the radiator and the a/c condenser being bowed in the accident…and sure, down the road they’d probably have to be replaced, but right now the truck runs completely fine. Granted, the a/c doesn’t always blow out super cold air like it used to–which kind of sucks when you’re in the middle of a summer heat wave–but it’s not that big of a deal. I mean, what do you think people did before cars had a/c? They rolled down the window and dealt with it. I’m perfectly fine doing that. The insurance guy did tell me to keep an eye on the temperature gauge on the dash, just to make sure the car doesn’t start to overheat because of the radiator being bowed in the accident…but so far, I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary with it.


Aside from those two things (the radiator and a/c condenser thingamajig), all the other repairs are mostly just cosmetic. And honestly, I don’t care if the bumper’s a little dented and cracked…I really don’t. It’s a car and it gets from point A to point B…and that’s really all I care about it. But since they totaled it, I’m pretty much screwed. Either I just suck it up and use the insurance money to get a new car or I keep the car, take the money, and go through who knows how long and ridiculous of a process that you have to go through after a car’s been totaled to get it legal and insured again. And my mother keeps calling, wanting to know what I’m going to do and I literally don’t have the patience to deal with it…or her. I know I have to, and yes, maybe I’m acting like a petulant child here, but I don’t want to. I just don’t. I don’t have the patience or the energy right now to deal with all of it. As if my mother calling and telling me to call the insurance people and let them know what I want to do isn’t frustrating and annoying enough…today she went and sent me a text asking if I thought the truck would make it back to New York. Yeah. I pretty much sent her a text back telling her she’s crazy if she actually thinks I’m going to drive 15 hours so she can deal with all the  truck stuff with the title and the insurance and whatnot. Hell no, it’s NOT happening. I hate that drive. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to make it when I’ve got the headache from hell that doesn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. I mean, I get that she’s trying to be helpful by dealing with the whole car end of it all for me…but no. I’m not doing it. And it’s not just about the drive itself–it’s the fact that if I do drive the truck back, once everything gets taken of with turning in the plates and finding a replacement–then I’m still going to have to make that awful drive back down here. Of course, she’s probably not even considering that because for some reason, she’s got this idea in her head that in light of the accident and my concussion and these damn headaches that won’t let up, I’m just going to change my mind about Tennessee and move back to New York. Yeah…she’s got another thing coming because that’s not happening. Hell, it doesn’t even make sense. I got into an accident…yes. And the headaches aren’t no walk in the park…but even if I wanted to–which I don’t, by the way–I can’t just up and leave and go back to New York. I don’t know what she’s thinking. I mean, for starters–I have a lease that’s not up until January. Not to mention the film and my work. I have commitments and obligations here that I can’t just up and walk away from it all simply because some guy wasn’t paying attention to the road and ran into me. It doesn’t work like that. And even if it did–I don’t want to go back to New York. I just don’t. And maybe it’s horrible and selfish of me to not want to be there with my family…but I don’t. I like it here. Aside from the crazy drivers and the interstates that could easily be mistaken for a demolition derby the majority of the time with all their traffic and accidents…Nashville is a beautiful city. And I love it. I love the people, the atmosphere–all of it. And I like the person I can be–the person that I am–down here.  I mean, don’t get me wrong or anything–I totally wouldn’t have minded having my family close by when I got in the accident instead of them being 900 miles away…of course I wouldn’t have minded. It was scary as hell and it hurt–it still hurts–and I definitely feel like an idiot at times  because I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to be doing or how I’m supposed to handle all of this stuff with the doctors and the insurance and the lawyers. I’ve never been in any kind of accident like this before, so I don’t know what’s supposed to be done. And I’m entirely grateful that my mother’s offered to deal with the car end…but she’s going to have to do it from up there because there’s no way in hell I’m driving to New York. No way. Even if by some miracle I woke up tomorrow and the headaches were gone…I still wouldn’t drive up there. I’d like to see them make that 15 hour drive and see how they like it. Hell, they won’t even come down here to visit because it’s too far of a drive. But they have no problem expecting me to do it and acting like it’s not a big deal when I say I won’t do it because of the drive. I mean, I may be part gypsy–as my grams is always saying–and I do enjoy traveling…just not where the driving is concerned. I hate driving. For real. I think it was fun and exciting for about a month after I got my license at 16…and that’s about it. After that it was all, go here, go there, give so-and-so a ride…yeah. It’s not just having to be the driver, either. I can’t stand being the passenger in a car for any real length of time, either. Probably because I get bored easily…that and car-sick. So yeah, my preferred mode of transportation for traveling is definitely not a car. Planes are okay though. I love flying. It’s faster and I typically just take a couple of Dramamine pills and take a nap for the duration of the flight.


So anyhow, I don’t know where this all leaves me or what I’m going to do with the truck or the rest of it…but I’ll figure it out, I guess. One thing I do know for sure though is that I’m not driving to New York. If my mother wants to come down here and take care of things, all the more power to her. But I’m staying put and hopefully–hopefully I’ll figure out something to do about these damn headaches very, very soon.


‘Til Then,


The Gypsy Tale.

—Well, I’ll be heading back to Nashville on Saturday. I’d planned on starting back tomorrow, thinking the promo shoot for the film was on Saturday…yeah, it’s Sunday. My brain’s all muddled, I swear. It’s all good though. Gives me an extra day with the fam and the kiddos and a chance to fit in some quality time with the Bestie. We did manage to get together one night over the weekend for a couple of hours, which was good. Although I still can’t shake that feeling that our friendship has changed in recent years…it’s still nice to get together and catch up a bit. I keep telling her that she needs to just pack up and move on down to Nashville…in jest mostly. Part of me thinks that it could be really great if she actually did it. I do miss her and the close friendship we once had…I do. But at the same time, I can’t help but think that maybe this whole distance thing is sort of good thing. And by that I just mean that it’s been a good thing for me. It really has. My moving to Nashville was a huge step for me. And it’s given me new insight and a fresh outlook on my future and what I want to achieve. And the confidence boost it’s given me has been huge and incredible. To explain…I never thought I’d actually do it. That I’d move so far away from everything and everyone. I honestly never thought I’d have the nerve to do it. And by some chance that I did muster up the nerve, I never would have imagined that I’d actually see it through. I’d have thought I’d have cashed in my chips by now and gone running back. But I didn’t. And I don’t have the slightest inclination of ever doing that.  I’m not sure if I should feel bad or guilty for saying it, but Nashville is home to me now. Which is a little crazy in and of itself, considering I’ve literally only been there a mere six months. But I know how I feel. And that’s it.

—As unreal as it seems, I feel like I’ve done a lot of growing up. That I’ve changed. And I have. It’s kind of hard not to when you relocate to a new city in a whole other state by yourself. I mean, before I always had my family there to back me up when things went to hell. It’s not like that now. Sure, my family is still there for me–I know that and I love them for it–but in reality, it’s just me for the big things. The important things. Like having a career and paying the bills…it’s all on me now. Though the stack of responsibilities I now have sometimes seems overwhelming…it’s also a sign of how far I’ve come…how much I’ve grown up. Granted, the majority of the time being an adult just SUCKS…there is this sense of freedom that’s kinda great. I don’t have to answer to anyone but myself. I don’t have to defend my actions or the things I do. I can tell my family as much or as little about my life as I choose…and they will never be the wiser. It’s kind of perfect actually. Terrifying to some degree, but mostly just awesome.

—I think my family has finally come to terms this trip with the fact that I have no intentions of moving back. I think they’re finally starting to get that…and while they still aren’t too happy about it, I think they’re beginning to accept it. They seem more supportive…for the most part…which feels pretty great, to be honest. I think all I’ve ever wanted from them was their support…their encouragement. For them to believe in me…even if they don’t necessarily understand why I do what I do or want what I want. My mother called me a gypsy the other day and said that I’ve got this free spirit-personality that she’s both in awe and admiration of. She also said that it scares the hell out of her sometimes…the fact that I’ll throw caution to the wind and take all these risks, never knowing in advance where I’ll land up or if I’ll land up right. I know my moving hasn’t been easy for her. Granted, we haven’t had the greatest or closest mother/daughter relationship over the years. According to my father, she and I used to be so close when I was little…and I wish I could remember more of that, but I don’t. All I remember is the relationship getting progressively worse while I was growing up. I remember her leaving…her putting the men in her life before my siblings and I…her not being there for those milestones that a mother should be there for with her daughter. I’m not sure when, but I think at some point all the hurt I felt towards her just meshed into anger–which eventually just became so drowned out by resentment that there was no room for those hurt feelings or even the anger. I think I stopped calling her Mom before I was even a teenager–that’s how long it’s been. And a lot of people will stay say to me when they hear me call her by her name–rather than Mom–how wrong and disrespectful it is…but it’s not that simple. They weren’t there. She didn’t leave them behind. They don’t know what it’s like to be 5 years old and watch the taillights backing out of the driveway from your bedroom window each and every night. They don’t know what it’s like to look into the audience at an awards ceremony or in the stands at a home game and realize that yet again, she didn’t show up. Or to spend the majority of your childhood and adolescence feeling like a burden, feeling like you weren’t wanted. I love my mother, I do. And I’m grateful for the fact that we’ve begun to mend some fences in recent years…but that doesn’t excuse or erase all the hard stuff. I feel the same way about my Dad. I’m glad we have a relationship now, but nothing can make up for the fact that he wasn’t around while I was growing up and that that relationship didn’t start until I was practically already 16-years-old.

—As for the gypsy part–I’ve got to admit she’s probably right. I’ve had these crazy, big dreams since I was little of wanting to see all these different places, of wanting to travel the world. Granted, I now realize it’s not as easy to do those things as I once thought it would be–financially especially–but those dreams haven’t changed. And it’s not about being ungrateful or hating where I come from. It’s just this restlessness that I’ve had in me for as long as I can remember…that I sometimes think I must have been born with. I don’t know why I have it…or why I’m the only one in my family that seems to have [apparently] inherited this gypsy DNA…but I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing. They might not understand it or relate, but it’s not for them to understand. It’s my life. They don’t have to understand it, or agree with the risks I take…they just have to respect it. And ideally–accept that I’m not like that. For some reason or another, I’m never going to be like them. It’s just not in me to stay in one place for too long. Not that I have any intentions of taking off from Nashville and running off somewhere or anything. Trust me, I don’t. For now, I’m content and happy right where I am in Nashville. I don’t think I’m going anywhere anytime soon. That said, I still think it’s pretty damn awesome that I can–that I have that right and that freedom–if I so choose.

—In getting back to the Bestie though–even if I wasn’t kidding about wanting her to move down to Tennessee–it’d never happen. She’d never do it. She and the boyfriend are practically married already. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before they make it official. And I highly doubt she would ever convince him to leave the area, what with him being as close to his family here as he is. Not to offend his wanting to be where his family is–it’s perfectly understandable–or anything to do with the guy just in general…but I sometimes can’t help but to think that, in a way, he’s holding her back. The Bestie and I–believe me, she’d be the first to tell you that I probably know her better than most anyone else…and I would probably have to agree. Which isn’t all that surprising considering we’ve been best friends for well over a decade. We’ve been a crazy duo, dating all the way back to our high school days. We were practically cut from the same cloth, so to speak. We bonded over our extreme hatred for our ridiculous Chemistry teacher and our ultimate mission of doing absolutely every darn thing we could think of to annoy the hell out of him and make those every-other-day, 80 minute class periods as difficult for him as we possibly could. (It sounds horrible, but trust me, that teacher was a jerk and he totally deserved it!) Aside from harassing teachers, we saw each other through everything–good and bad. An unplanned pregnancy and the abortion that followed, the heart aches from bad break-ups, the degrees of dysfunction within our respective families, the death of a grandparent…we saw and experienced it all. As Christina Yang (**From Greys’) would say…she was — and in some ways still is– my person. We know each other’s secrets. We know how to put each other’s buttons just enough to send the other off the wall. We’ve had some pretty insane fights over the years…it’s a wonder that we’re still even friends. But we are. At least, I’d like to think that we are. It’s hard though, building a life that you can’t really share with that person because they live 900 something miles away from you. Growing apart…I guess it was just inevitable. After all, it’s a helluva lot easier to be joined at the hip when you’re young and free and have no real awareness of what “responsibility” looks like or even means. We were kids then. Now–well, now we’re stuck in the big, bad real world. We can’t afford to be oblivious and reckless in our ways when our futures are dependent upon the actions we take and the choices we make…

—Any who, time to call it a night. I have a feeling the next couple of days I’m going to need all the rest/energy I can get. Excited to leave and get back to my life in TN…but that damn drive though…ugh…

‘Til next time,


Bitch Is Back.

Well, it’s only been a few days into this NY visit and things have already gone to HELL. Honestly, I’m not surprised…but you’d think I’d have learned by now that things are never EVER going to change around here and that my family is just as messed up–if not more–than they’ve always been…and yet, it doesn’t seem as though I’ve learned. At all.


It all started Friday morning. I literally drove straight through from Tennessee, starting out  about 4am or so (C-time) Thursday morning and didn’t get into New York and my family’s until sometime around 10pm or so. The kids didn’t have school Friday, so they waited up for me. Naturally, I was exhausted and crashed. Then bright and early Friday morning Emma gets up (poor thing conked out before I got there),  sees my truck outside and of course, had to come running upstairs to see me. I was exhausted, but I stayed up to play with her for a little bit. My grams comes up to give Emmie her morning meds and mentions that she wasn’t feeling well. So I thought I’d be nice and keep the kids occupied for a bit while she went back to bed for a little while. So she goes back downstairs and not 10 minutes later, Avie is climbing the stairs to tell me “the bitch is here”, meaning the aunt I hate more than anyone and cannot stand AT ALL. And she knows it. So when she saw my truck out front did she turn-around and leave? Hell no. The bitch came right in the house anyways. And my grams didn’t tell her to leave…as usual. So, I was pissed-off. Livid. And with good reason, I might add. I mean, seriously? She’s literally at my grams’ every damn day, pretty much from 7ish in the morning until well into the afternoon. EVERY DAY. It’bullshit. I mean, what in the hell do two people have to talk about for hours at a time, every single day? Nothing good, that’s what. But it’s frustrating as hell. Especially considering I’d just driven nearly 16 hours, they knew I was coming, and not 7 hours in New York, she’s starting trouble and being there even though she knows damn well that I can’t stand her there while I’m there. She’s a bitch, plain and simple. And my grams’ does nothing. She lets her do it, even though she knows I hate it. She’s always telling me to “get over myself” in regards to the situation with my bitch aunt and her even more of a bitch, my cousin Jennifer…which only serves to piss me off even more. There’s nothing to get over with. My aunt has spent the past 30 years competing with and resenting my siblings and I for my grams loving us more (than her kids) and treating us better when we were all growing up. She acts like just because she was my grams’ first-born that she’s entitled to every damn thing there is. She acts like a spoiled fucking princess. Always having to be the center of attention. Always pissing off members of my family because she does and says whatever the hell she likes with no regard for anyone else’s feelings/wishes,…or even common decency, for that matter. She acts like she does and gets away with it, yet my grams’ is telling me to get over myself. There’s nothing to get over. My aunt is a conniving, vindictive bitch. Always has been. Always will be. As for her daughter, my cousin, well that bitch can go you-know-where, right along with her mother after the shit she pulled on me years ago. As far as either of them are concerned, they don’t exist. And I’m not the one who needs to get over myself, it’s those two. As for my grams–she’s the pot calling the kettle–seeing how she’s still PO’ed at my estranged aunt that ran her mouth years and years ago, convincing my uncle to sever all times with the family when they got married over 20 years. He’s had nothing to do with us since and my grams can’t stand that woman, still….and it’s the same damn thing with my aunt/cousin and I. But she refuses to admit the connection. Of course…it’s her. And she’s always right.


Even though she’s not.


Anyhow, I got mad and left. Then the next day I get a text from my sister warning me that she’d invited them to the family cookout for Memorial Day…thinking she was doing the decent thing by texting me and letting me know. Which was, again, bullshit. She knew I was there. I was at her place visiting the day before and she didn’t say a word about it. Had to tell me in a text. I told her off. She can’t even stand them, yet she was going to let them in her house? She’s a hypocrite, and I told her so. That was pretty much the final straw…so I left. Ended up driving out to Indiana and seeing my dad/meeting my stepmom. Cooled off a bit.


Just got back from there late last night. I don’t have to be down in Nashville until the 10th, so it was the smartest option to go back to NY. So I did. And my mother claims to have told my aunt/cousin they are to leave if they ever see my car out front. Yeah right. They’ll never follow that. They don’t give a damn. And then they wonder why I don’t consider NY home anymore. It’s because it’s not. It hasn’t felt like home in a really long time. They throw out the word “love”, yet they don’t have a loyal bone in their bodies…and that’s part of loving someone.


Anyhow, Ryan plans on moving back down with me when I go back next month. We’re getting a place. Hopefully it all works out.


So, that’s my update. Hope everyone had a safe and enjoyable holiday weekend!




Going In Circles.

So, I’ve decided to take a little unexpected trip back to New York. Planning on leaving at the end of the week and making that horrible, HORRIBLE 14-hour drive. It’s not a permanent move, much to the disappointment of my family, I’m sure, but rather kind of an extended visit of sorts. Just a couple of weeks. I planned on trying to make it back for my niece’s talent show at the end of the month anyhow–she’s singing–and things are a little…well, complicated here at the moment. Work is well…work. I can’t complain though. As a freelancer, I have the freedom to literally work from anywhere, so I’m fortunate in that respect. This whole living situation/arrangement I managed to get myself mixed up in…it’s not the greatest. I know, I know…it’s my own doing. And I was crazy and just plain dumb to think that moving in with two men–two total, complete strangers–that I met through Craigslist–of all places–would somehow be a good idea. Not surprisingly, I was wrong. As usual. Guess I can just add this to my list of all the many, many reckless/ridiculous decisions that I seem to have a penchant for making. That’s w me. Impulsive to the bone. Sometimes I reflly do wonder how it is even possible that I’ve made it to 27 years old. No joke. I swear, one of these days, my stupidity/recklessness is going to get me killed or something. When I’m in one of my dark and twisted little moods, I sometimes wonder why I do crazy things like this. Why I’m so impulsive. Part of me can’t help but wonder if deep down in the dark recesses of my being, if I’m doing I’m doing it on purpose. Like I’m knowingly–yet un-knowingly–playing some game of Russian Roulette with my life. Heck–people have been telling me for years that I’m asking for trouble by doing some of the crazy things that I’ve been known to do. Maybe they’re right. I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I’m deliberately putting myself in these unsafe/doomed from the onset situations. I’m messed up…but I’m not that messed up. I don’t think. I think I’m just way too trusting. I guess I want to believe that there are still good, honest people in the world, I really do…and maybe that’s being too naive…something, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the adrenaline rush…like I’m addicted to the danger so I unintentionally, subconsciously seek it out. Who knows.

So yeah, that’s that. As much as I really don’t want to go back to New York–for any length of time–I think that, for the moment, it’s probably the best/safest solution for me. So, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to spend some down-time with my family and the kids for a couple of weeks and work out a place down here in Nashville while I’m there. It’s not the easiest task–finding a place in Nashville when you’re physically in New York–but I was able to find that place over in Brentwood where I was originally going to lease when I moved down…before my last-minute decision just to stay on campus in the res hall. Sooo I think I can do it again. It’s gonna be tough, but it’s do-able. I’ve got to be back anyhow, at the latest, by June 10th. That’s when production and shooting starts for the film I’m working on. Andddd the timing couldn’t be better seeing how that’s right around CMA Fest time…and there’s no way I’m missing that. No freakin’ way.

So yeah, here’s to me making that 14 hour drive unscathed, keeping my sanity in the time that I’m in New York, and some much needed down-time to reflect and start making “RESPONSIBLE/SAFE” choices…or at least making an attempt/effort to… 🙂


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