To My Abuser

M -

I can’t help but notice that I was blocked from seeing your facebook account. I’m not upset about it really, just curious as to why. Did your family have you block me, or was it of your own volition? Did I really hurt your feelings that much that you decided - fuck it - I need to block her - she makes me so goddamn miserable, as I have done in the past in regard to you? Or did you think I was going to continue fighting with you instead of leaving the comments as they were? Did you think that when I said that you are not precious to me, but to your mother, that I wish you hadn’t lived through the ordeal your sister posted about? Because though I am impartial to your existance, and am being completely honest about it because to pretend otherwise would be a lie and fucking weird as Hell, I do not wish death upon anyone, especially someone connected to people that I care about. That is all you are to me - a person who is connected to several people that I care about. And while I wish that I could go more than one day at a time without hearing or uttering your name, losing you would hurt them, and seeing them suffering and/or losing them would hurt me, so I roll my eyes and move forward if I happen to catch a glimpse of you. Or, I talk about you with some of these people, hoping that by speaking words about you, the thoughts of you will finally fucking leave my mind and I can live a life without being reminded of the fact that we have history and the fact that you still exist.

I feel like there is no reason for you to be angry at me. It’s laughable to me that you could feel upset about something so stupid. Why would you be angry at me for NOT CARING about you? Why would you expect me to? Shit, I saw you recently and said NOT A WORD to you, because I wasn’t fucking there for you and didn’t want to give you that impression. If anything, after everything that we “shared,” I should be angry at you. In fact, I am.

Let me explain something to you. I have been in many bad relationships. So many. I have been able to bounce back from all of them - even the worst of them. I have recovered from them. I have forgiven all of the people who have hurt me so far. I am able to have them in my life in some capacity. With you, it is not that simple. Of all of the shitty people that I have dated, or been in any sort of relationship with, only one has broken me.


You. Broke. Me. Into a million and five pieces. It really pisses me off to write it out. It continues to piss me off that I let you. After so many relationships, you were the one who destroyed me; you were the icing on the fucking shitty ass cake. You win the shittiest-person-that-I’ve-ever-dated award. You were the one who made me want to die, and I contemplated drowning myself for months after we broke up. You were the one who made me want to punish myself for “messing up and ruining our relationship,” and not eat for thirty-six hours after you broke up with me. You were the one who caused me to get so depressed that I did not shower for a week and a half. You were the one who caused me to have to go in later at work because sitting through two hours of silence during nap time was too fucking hard. You were the one who caused me to screen for bi-polar disorder when looking for potential partners. You were the one who made me feel like I had to change to fit you, that my opinions should be your opinions, that your beliefs were my beliefs, that my time was always actually your time. You were the one that isolated me from my family by not including them in our “gatherings,” and made me feel like they were inferior to yours. You pulled me from my friends, telling me that I HAD to be friends with your friends or we could not be together, then decided toward the tail end that you did not want this - after we broke up, you pitted them against me and pitted me against the people that I had come to love and cherish, in the hopes of breaking those friendships. You were the one who manipulated me (do not deny it - you’ve even tried doing it recently by telling me to follow you on tumblr when you found out that I reblog posts associated with your name or baiting me on facebook to tell you that I care about you) into doing what you wanted to do every time I disagreed. el You were the one who made me feel like I had to compete with the memory of your ex throughout the ENTIRE relationship - even going to her house ALONE way after we agreed that we wouldn't hang out with our exes with just them, when I felt like I couldn't see MY BEST GUY FRIEND because we slept together YEARS before we dated and YOU were uncomfortable (And really, you need to leave that poor girl alone. She is married and has a child. If you treated her anything like you treated me, and I KNOW you did, I promise you that the only reason that she even bothers to speak to you now is because she feels like she owes you something, and she owes you NOTHING. Not one damn thing). You blamed me for not trusting you, when talking to you about personal things was like pulling teeth, and you did not open up until the last few months of our relationship; you broke up with me for "reading [your] journal," which is the only fucking way I learned what was going on with you. You conned me into thinking that you wanted to be with me so that I would stay, doing just enough to keep me with you even though I understand now - even though you TOLD ME - that you were never fucking in love with me (and that hurts to finally admit - it does, because the only way I can stay sane about our time together is to think that MAYBE YOU MIGHT HAVE LOVED ME but you didn’t. You only ever cared about yourself). When I came to you saying that I have an anxiety disorder you tried to convince me that there was nothing wrong - there could be NOTHING WRONG with me if there was something “wrong” with you - when we were both sick. My emotions were never valid to you - if I was angry, you would find some way to discount what I was feeling and turn it around to make me feel crazy. If I didn’t want to do something you wanted, you threw a bitch fit to get your way - every time, without fail. You left me with nothing of my own - my family, my friends, my interests, my personality, sense of humor, heart, body, soul were ALL YOURS. (The first to come back were my family and friends, and thank whoever-is-out-there for them because without them I would be dead.) I don’t even remember who I was before you got ahold of me. That is how much you rewrote and destroyed everything that I was. I have rebuilt who I am, no thanks to you at all, and would never, ever let that shit happen again. I am assertive, bold, honest as much as possible, and tough as nails, and I am still not over what you have done to me. You emotionally and mentally abused me, and I am not okay with that.

I forgave you for my own benefit. My hatred for you was poison. That does not mean that I am not angry.

I wanted to meet with you in person to talk it out - I would finally give you my side to get closure, and hear your side of what the fuck happened. I would give you the chance to explain yourself and to apologize, maybe even be a tiny insignificant part of my life, because I am a good person and that’s what good people do, right? We forgive, and we try to move forward, yes? Fuck that shit.

No matter how awesome I am at being a good person, it does not change the fact that I am a victim of your abuse. It does not change the fact that you made my life much harder than it needed to be - all I did was love you, and I stayed with you against my better judgement and despite the fact that you broke up with me TWICE before the final time, and try to accomodate you, and try to forgive you and work things out even after you broke my heart, and I got handed shit in return. It does not change the fact that because of you I have fears that have made my current relationship so much more difficult than it would have been had I never met you or dated you. Sometimes I feel sorry for my boyfriend of almost three years because he fell in love with someone who is broken and shattered and has been working to find all of her pieces - I am grateful that he is up to the task of looking with me and molding new pieces to fill the gaps.

Anyway, I wanted to meet up but could not bring myself to keep an appointment with you. The prospect of seeing you and speaking to you face to face was not appealing to me, and I had no idea what I would say even if I could bring myself to sit across from you. Honestly, the mere thought of it was giving me panic attacks; I have high anxiety and you do not help it at all. I can’t even talk to you on a computer screen without my brain going into panic mode. When it comes to you, I am not one hundred percent rational - even in a dream I had recently I responded to you in a negative way. I do not want to deal with your bullshit.

Once I got past the initial want to make things right with you, I realized that there is really no room in my life for you. We still cannot be friends because you have not changed or grown as a person at all - any time that I hear about you it seems as if you are pulling the same shit as you were when we were together only on different people. (Stop it. The people in your life are not there to cater to your every fucking need. They are there to be your friend, your equal.) I was hoping that you would have changed over the past three years, that maybe you became a better person and treated people better. I worried, for a few minutes, that maybe I would fall in love with you again because you were so changed - there is absolutely no reason for that worry to exist now. We cannot be friends because I have changed for the better, and you bring out the worst in me. Just talking to you/planning to meet with you made me a worse person; I treated my boyfriend worse, acted more withdrawn. We can’t be friends because you don’t know how to fucking communicate like an adult, choosing instead to block me on a social networking website in order to get your point accross about a post that really had nothing to do with you. I can’t have you in my life because you still scare me (I can’t even write a fucking piece of fiction loosely base on our relationship because the thought of living through it ALL OVER AGAIN sends me into a panic attack and hours of unsolicited depression, and seeing cars that even slightly resemble yours makes me freeze up) - your manipulation, anger, and past abuse is all too much. It makes me sad, because I know you could use another person in your life that knows you completely and would actually be a good friend to you, but I couldn’t be that person to you even if you did let me. I no longer want to be that person.

I do not care that you blocked me; you decided long ago that you didn’t want to be part of my life. I don’t care that your feelings might be hurt about something trivial. Maybe now, without the control to bring you back into my life in my hands, I can use my ability as a good person to focus on other things besides making amends with someone who probably never fucking cared about me in the first place, and who certainly doesn’t value me as a human now. Good riddance.

- K


(Z)e End!

April has, somehow, flown by. This has been a wonderful and challenging month. I've hung out with friends at carnivals, worked on my relationship with James, hung out with my sister, and written a whole lot.

I usually only participate in NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month), where I've written an entire novel in a month; two months of writing all throughout just seems out of reach. I usually fall off of the wagon for Blog Every Day in April, or int his case the A-Z challenge.

This time participating was no different. I missed a few days here and there - Saturdays were hard for me to post a blog since it is my Monday and I'm usually tired after a weekend of staying up too late and sleeping in too long; our Internet went out for two days this week so I got waaaaaaay behind - I posted four or five blogs last night. I even got behind on posting this last one, this recap... Some of these topics were difficult for me to write and took at least two hours; some flowed easily from my fingers; it may seem like I got a bit too personal, but honestly I don't feel I was; I kept some secrets and shared what I don't mind sharing - this is my life, why not share how I've lived it?

I am glad that this challenge is over. Writing every day was extremely hard. Though, in retrospect, I've written more this month than I wrote in the entirety of 2014. Maybe this was good to get me back into the habit of updating my blog. I hope so. I hope that I continue to do better with writing this year.

Until the next time that I update, be well, stay strong, and live the life that you choose.

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(Y)ellow Yaks Yodel and Yell

Yellow – A great song by Coldplay; an ugly color. I honestly just really hate the color yellow – it isn’t happy to me. It’s too bright and inappropriate.

Yell – Something I try not to do but end up doing often enough.

Yelp – A dog’s noise of pain. Or a crappy website with outdated numbers; you can’t find very many tow truck drivers on that website that are still driving tow trucks.

Yahtzee – One of the best games ever invented. I remember playing the classic version with my family when I was younger, I bought the Mario version a few years ago, and I got an electronic one for a holiday one year.

Yeast – As a word it makes me uncomfortable. I’ve used to make Challah bread; it was so delicious. There is a Jewish Holy Day where you eradicate all Yeast products from the house; the first year I celebrated it we took it to the extreme – my mom took all of the food to her friend’s so that we wouldn’t throw it away.

Yaks – A cousin to the buffalo.

Yodel – An annoying form of music. Also a fun card in Cards Against Humanity that is played often (“Inappropriate Yodeling”).

Yes – A word that people abuse. Say yes so that they don’t get mad – god forbid people get mad, god forbid you take care of yourself. I’ve been there; I’ve said yes to keep from getting into arguments. This is not healthy. Saying ‘No’ is a form of self-care. If you need help on learning, contact a psychiatrist in your area, or use google; there are plenty of ways to practice self-care and learn how to say NO from time to time.

Your/You’re – Your; yours, belonging to you. You’re; you are. Please, dear sweet god, spread this like wild fire so ALL OF THE PEOPLE WHO USE THESE WRONG CAN LEARN THIS.

Yo-yo – A toy that I never quite got the hang of. I can make it go up and down but can’t get it to do very many tricks. The Yo-yo Man used to come in Elementary school and sell us Yo-yos; his visits were always fun.

Yowza! – A phrase the 11th Doctor tends to say. I associate with something sexual in terms of a person's appearence; he just says it when he gets excited about an every day thing or comes to a conclusion that is important.

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As a human who was raised in an era where doctors are super important and medicine progresses rapidly, I’ve had my fair share of X-rays.

Teeth – Pretty much every time I go to the dentist. I hate them because they have to stick the stuff in your mouth that keeps it open; it feels like plastic cardboard. You have to bite on the plastic cardboard to keep it from going anywhere and grimace into a white camera with a tube that they move within inches of your face. You are not to move. Then there is this necessary, heavy bib put over your reproductive organs because it is proven that x-rays can destroy women’s reproductive systems.

Wrist – I sprained my wrist during ninth grade. I was chasing an ex out of my house because he saw my underwear and I fell at the base of our driveway because I was wearing a long skirt for a band concert; my pantyhose tore. I didn’t say anything to my mom and went to the concert hoping that it would be okay and the pain would go away on its own. I guess the fact that I had to play my clarinet for an hour didn’t really help the pain, because it didn’t go away and, in fact, got worse. I asked my mom to take me to the ER where they x-rayed it and found it to be sprained, not broken, and told me that I couldn’t participate in Winter Guard anymore. I wore a brace to winter guard and participated anyway; I was actually encouraged by Mr. A, the instructor’s husband, to keep going. It completely healed, then I sprained it again upon getting out of my friend’s van after church. Good job, me.

Lungs – When I worked with the kiddos, I was sick off and on for the entire duration. Kids don’t know not to cough in your face or rub their snotty noses on your cheek as they kiss you, and I don’t have a great immune system. After being sick for five or six months straight, with no breaks in between colds, I decided to go to the doctor. I told them that I felt pressure when I breathe and they said they needed to take the x-ray to rule out pneumonia. I wasn’t allowed to wear my shirt or bra; had to in fact wear a paper tank top so that it nothing obstructed the x-ray. I stood and allowed them to do their thing, and something happened with one set so they had to completely re-do it. Turns out I had Walking Pneumonia and was put on bed rest for at least twenty-four hours. I called into work that day and told them I would be back for my next shift. After sleeping all day, I did show up to work the next day and had to take it easy.

Maybe that's not as many as I thought, but lumped under teeth there are probably a million and five x-rays, so...

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(W)ords Words Words

Words – Important, vital. I wish more people would choose theirs more carefully. They have the power to make or break someone, to validate, to respect, to tear down.

Wisdom – Something that comes from experience, and age.

Wonderful – Christmas, sunsets, watching fireworks with my grandmother, hearing the correct song at just the right moment.

Women – Strong creatures who can create humans and deal with way too much but handle it with grace and perseverance.

Walrus – Coo Coo Cachu

Whale – Majestic creature; huge, deadly.

Waiting – Horrible, time consuming; time usually wasted.

Wedding – A ceremony; just the beginning of something that needs to be worked on daily and is completely worth it.

Wasted – Super drunk; thrown away in a figurative sense.

Wiccan – Some of the best people that I have ever met. We are all part of each other; we should take care to treat each other with respect; we are of the earth.

Wilderness – Undeveloped land; there should be more.

Wander – “Not all who wander are lost.”

Wonder – To think of in passing.

Wasps – Terrifying flying creatures that can sting you.

Wash – To soak and make clean.

What the Hell/fuck – Two phrases that make up 50% of my daily vocabulary.

Wish – Something secret, yet important; a silent hope, or perhaps a prayer.

Wart – An annoying skin manifestation that never seems to go away. I had one on my right pinkie for two or three years before it suddenly decided that it wanted to disappear.

Worthless – A feeling that can tear a person to pieces.

Worthy – You. Everything you are, or do. You are worthy.

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“Tell me tell me what makes you think that you are invincible? I can see it in your eyes that you’re so sure. Please don’t tell me that I’m the only one that’s vulnerable… Impossible.” – Vulnerable by Secondhand Serenade

I hate making myself vulnerable. I hate putting myself out there and being subjected to the possibility of failure. This may be why I haven’t really achieved a whole Hell of a lot. Yes, I did attend college and get my degree, but I did that as an average student; I declined joining the on-campus organization I was invited to join, and didn’t show up to walk the stage even when I sent that I opted to (some of it had to do with money – some of it had to do with sticking out like a sore thumb). In my daily life, I do what I have to go get by without attracting too much attention. I haven’t gotten a novel published like I wanted for fear of making myself vulnerable and being met with rejection. I have not even started looking for a new job even though I fucking hate my job because it takes a lot of energy and what if they don’t like me? What if I don’t represent myself the correct way during the 45 minutes that they would interview me?

I’m really bad when it comes to making myself vulnerable to people. I have been left so many times that I rarely even try to strike up new friendships. I am a nice person, but I am not friendly; I don’t talk to people that I don’t know. I hate the ‘get to know you’ phase of a new relationship or friendship; I hate the thought of making myself vulnerable for nothing. When I saw my therapist at first, I didn’t want to open up and become vulnerable in front of her; it was hard reliving things that I borderline refused to talk about in my daily life. (Edit: I have contemplated even deleting this blog and replacing it with something else as I have done before. I am trying to force myself not to.)

Despite my aversion to being vulnerable, overcoming that (during the times that I am able) has actually led to some good things. I have started new, recovered, maintained, and strengthened friendships. I have been able to have awesome sex through getting naked and sharing my body, something that makes me uncomfortable for me but with the right person turns out really well. I have been able to keep my relationship with James going. And, eventually, I will get out of my Hell-hole of a job and sell one of my brilliant novels. It just takes time, and learning how to be comfortable with vulnerability. In other words, it is extremely worth it and fullfulling if you just give vulnerability a shot.

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Umbrella - Something that I consider useless. I have maybe two or three in my room, zero in my car. I hate the hassle of using it, and having to fold it up dripping wet. I hate that there is nowhere to put it, except with all of your stuff so that it, too, can get wet. I would rather wear a rain coat, or a jacket, or get soaking wet without either one, than to use an umbrella.

Unicorn - A mystical being; most likely modern day horses.

Universe - Vast, never ending. Beautiful.

Understanding - Something that comes with experience, or effort (for someone who has already experienced but cannot process).

Ugly - Something that does not exist. Beauty is all a matter of perception. No one is genuinely ugly in terms of appearence.

Ukelele - Baby guitar.

Unblock - Allowing someone to be part of your social media life after having them blocked for so long.

Utopia - The ultimate place of happiness.

Unglued/Unhinged - Someone having a psychotic episode.

Unstoppable - Doomsday; the villian from Superman.

Upbeat - Happy, or at least faking feeling okay.

Untouchable - People in corrupt positions within government/corporate companies.

Upchuck - Throwing up.

Unfazed - Not caring about something; being desensitised.

Unzip - To pull down one's zipper (for some reason I think about it being on pants).

Unjust - People going to prison for 21 years for drugs but getting no jail time for raping someone.

Uncuff - To release.

Updo - A really uncomfortable hair style that I've only ever worn to band banquets that makes me feel like my face is rounder than it is.

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I have six tattoos; I do not regret a single one and wish to have more.


I got this tattoo in 2008, when I was nineteen and working at CiCi's. This one is on my right ankle on the right hand side. I got it to memoralize my grandpa, who died in 2006. I knew I wanted the heart before that, when I was fifteen and thinking about tattoo ideas; I had them add the name that we called him into the middle.


I got this one in 2009 when I was twenty. It is on the back of my neck. I wanted the word live because I believe in living life - simply existing is not enough. The tattoo artist added the star above the 'i' to make it more artistic; I fell in love with the addition.


I got this tattoo in 2012, when I was twenty-four, after a break-up; it is on my left wrist. I hated myself after it because all of the blame was brought against me. This is a special reminder to love myself, because I am valuable, and I matter.


I got this tattoo on my right wrist a week after I got the 'love yourself' one; they even still had my ID because I forgot to get it back from them and I said 'Just hang on to it for me; I will be coming in to get another tattoo Friday.' I had a horrible, terrible time letting people back into my life, and still have trouble actually trusting people. It's really sad because when people see it, they say that it is something they will never do and would be stupid to do. No, I don't think so. As my friend Hayley said, you can always trust people - but you can never rely on them.


I got this tattoo for the first time in 2012, a few months after my wrist tattoos, and the second time late last year when I had another artist fix it. It is the Deathly Hallows from Harry Potter, with the words "Master of Death" underneath from the quote "he who possesses these three artifacts would become the Master of Death." After losing my grandma, this came as a comfort almost; I know I cannot control death, but I already had the Hallows, so why not add the lore?


I got this tattoo a year ago on the day my grandma passed away; it is on my right ankle on the left hand side. I wanted it to have a flower theme like my grandpa's, and put what we called her in the middle. I stayed home and went to do fun things with Rachel; we actually got the phone call that she passed as I was getting this done. I did warn the artist - I told them that we were told our grandma would pass and that if we did get the news I would cry. He had to pause to give me a minute to lose it, and to compose myself. It still looks this vibrant.

There you have it - all six. I know that I will get more - I want one that says "Just Breathe" on my ribcage, at least. I have other ideas that haven't solidified yet - like rat paws on my shoulder where our rats perch. We'll see what the future holds.

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(S)ister (Specifically, my Sister)

My sister's name is Rachel. She looks more like my dad's side, and I look like my mom's side - I am my mother's clone.

She came around when I was two; my parents tried VERY HARD to have a sibling for me - dad was hoping for a boy, but I was given Rachel instead and was very excited to have her. For awhile, I had a hard time adjusting. I got in trouble a lot and sent to my room because I didn't know how to share my toys. No, I couldn't possibly remember - WE HAVE VIDEO OF THIS!

I haven't always treated her nicely, at all. I was actually pretty emotionally abusive for a really long time because that was all I knew - from my father, my boyfriends, etc - and our relationship was based on me being a shithead and her being afraid of me. I have slapped her once when I was seventeen - I will never, ever do it again.

Through the past few years, she has been my rock. I finally realized her value after my last huge break up, the one that broke me into pieces. She kept me alive for her and my family.

She and I share depression, something that I wasn't aware was an issue for her. I mean, I knew it was when she was a kid, but I thought that it got better. I know that depression doesn't just go away, but I thought it was what the psychiatrist that I had in seventh grade called it - "situational depression." She feels unaccomplished and unloved; I am doing my best to bring light to her days.

We have been through a lot together - our parents splitting up, overcoming differences, making each up with each other after a fight. We are not perfect. We step on each other's toes A LOT. But at the end of the day, we love each other very much.

We have each other's back. We calm each other down after a night full of tears. We see each other as beautiful, even when we cannot see it within ourselves. We mend each other's hearts after a significant other breaks them. We see movies, attend Conventions, watch Netflix, go on sisterly dates, and make a HUGE deal out of each other's birthday with anything that we have to work with.

No matter how imperfect we are, we are definitely perfect for each other, and I wouldn't choose anyone else to have as my little sister.

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I want to keep the names of the people I've been with confidential, because they all have a life that has continued past "us." I will go ahead and note that some of these guys I just "talked" to; these are just my experiences with men (though there was potential for women) so far. Here we go.

Ja - In seventh grade, there was this boy that was dubbed my "first boyfriend." My whole family was in an uproar; I was entirely too young for a boyfriend. I was not to kiss this boy. I was not to, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, have sex with this boy. The ONLY THING I was allowed to do was hold his hand, and we rarely did that. He wasn't really nice to me; he would let his friends pick on me and be as big of a jerk as possible. I would sing "Get Another Boyfriend" by the Backstreet Boys to his face in an attempt to get back at him. He had this bet going with his friend that he could keep me around until his birthday. I won this bet; I broke up with him two days before. To keep my sanity, I refuse to think of this stupid boy as my first "real" boyfriend. He was just some asshole who used me. I actually explained this to a friend recently that I've had since this time period - this boy does not count. As you can imagine, this isn't exactly the best tone-setter for my future relationships.

T - I started dating this kid, my actual first boyfriend, in eighth grade. One of my friends was actually interested in him when I wasn't, and I told her this kid was bad news. She did get mad at me for dating him and keeping him away from her, though my arguement (after everything started and got out of control) was that at least she wasn't able to, almost as if I spared her from him. We hung out often and late at night, trying to spend enough time at each other's houses for it to count; we were inseparable. He went to Canada for a whole summer (we threw him a going away party) and sent mushy e-mails (he later said that he was just telling me what I wanted to hear), and brought back a skunk thing from his dad for me. This boy was my first kiss, my first dry hump, the guy I gave my first blow jobs to and received oral from; I would do a lot of things with him, but not have sex. One time when I told him not to shove his penis into my throat he decided it would be funny to do that anyway and laughed about it and exposed himself to my sister when she walked in to check on me while I was coughing up a lung. I was told a few years ago that this actually counts as rape and it finally made sense as to why I've had PTSD from this incident. He was one of those "If you don't give this to me, I'll go elsewhere" kind of guys, admitted by him years after we broke up when he stated that he cheated on me while we were together. He commented on my sister's breasts and my friend's looks, pitting us against each other; my friend and I did eventually become really great friends despite of his stupidity. He ended up breaking up with me one day, we got back together, then he broke up with me again a week later; he was fooling around with another one of my friends. We had a spot at school where we would go to make out; he took my friend down there immediately after breaking up with me at lunch time. After he broke up, he would harass me about trying to avoid him, walking several feet away from him on my way to the bus stop and doing what I could not to speak to him. I told him I wasn't, but I was; he caused me a lot of anxiety and a lot of sickness; I threw up a few times out of nerves after we broke up because I was terrified of him, and I lost weight due to being too nervous to eat. I did try to remain friends with him since I was close to his mom, but that was rocky at best and really wasn't so awesome. He's on my Facebook now, and despite the fact that he's an okay person now, I often think that it's a good thing we never worked out.

D - I dated this boy in my sophomore year of high school. We were actually friends since 7th grade when we met in science class and I was the only girl to sit on the boys' side because I thought the girls were too preppy. He had a crush on me when we first met; I remember writing the "Do you have a crush on me? Check yes or no" on a piece of paper and him checking yes. I do not remember how we got together, which is actually kind of sad and now it's been too long so there is no point in asking. I remember hanging out with him during the first craft show that our band put on and sitting on his lap. I remember him knowing about my tendencies to hurt myself and taking a sharp object away from me because I took it from a friend but couldn't let it go. His mom and my mom let us go on an actual date; we ate at Chilli's and saw My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I remember that we were together during our band trip to the Six Flags in San Antonio and he bought me a HUGE bag of pink and purple and red M&Ms. I remember that he got me a singing Bear from Build-A-Bear named Googly (from Monsters Inc... Googly Bear). I remember that I went to T's house one time instead of meeting my cousin halfway as she was walking to my house from her's; he and I were hanging out and he ended up making out with me - I tried to leave and he pushed me up against the wall near his front door to keep me from going, kissing me again and causing me to push him off and run out the door. I did tell D about it, and it kind of messed things up a bit; he was told that I cheated, which in a sense I did but it was unintentional and I was coerced into it and I left. We were together for awhile after that. He started talking to the same girl that ruined T and I's relationship, and broke up with me for her; I went to her Quincinera while they were still together and had to fight to keep my comments to myself. While he was with her, he apologized and asked if I remembered our relationship and how good it was; I stated that yes, but it didn't really matter by that point.

K - In my Junior year of high school, my mom was very concerned with me passing the math test that made it to where I couldn't move forward in high school so mom put me in Sylvan. I met this boy at that establishment; tall, dark, and handsome. We started talking, ended up going on a date (in the company of my mom and sister to see King Kong), and we kissed goodnight. I posted a blog on Myspace about it, not realizing that the default setting was public, and his girlfriend saw it and told me about their relationship. He told me they broke up - she informed me that I must have misunderstood and that I read into everything too much (his words, too, when she asked him about it). We did continue to date and see each other; this is not one of my proudest moments. I was seventeen, and stupid, and did things despite the fact that it could have ruined their relationship. The fact that he dated someone else while he was dating me and his girlfriend made things worse. I've realized now that their relationship wasn't in my hands - I was single, and a kid, and so inexperienced at relationships; he was the one in a relationship for five years. He was the guy that told me "good luck with that" when I explained that I wanted to wait until marriage to have sex; I even had a promise ring that my mom got me that I wore on my left ring finger. My grandpa died on the New Years' Eve that we were together; I spent that night with some gal pals going to see a movie. I did sleep with this boy that year - I was super vulnerable and sad and the attention made me feel good. We slept together twice; I gave him my virginity. I cried on my way home, so upset that something that was supposed to be special was not what I thought it would be, having been asked "can you at least move or something?" when I was so inexperienced and did not know what the fuck to do. I know that we talked after that, into the next relationship-esque thing, up until he told me that he was engaged to his girlfriend and invited me to the wedding after asking me if I wanted to meet up and sleep with him. I told him that I wouldn't be dating him anymore, ever. We saw each other one time after that when I hung out with him and his pregnant wife. I've bumped into him occasionally, but we don't actually really talk except for during those awkward moments.

Jo - During the summer between my junior and senior year of high school, I was in a relationship with one of my best guy friends. I had a crush on this kid since we met on the bus when we were Freshman, and was ecstatic to date him. I loved him so much, and our first kiss made me feel like I was on a cloud. We hung out a lot, by ourselves and with friends. We attempted to sleep together several times, successful about three times. I would go to his house in the middle of the night just to be there with him. He broke up with me after two weeks. One of our friends that we hung out with all summer dated him for a couple of weeks, too, but that didn't last either. He and I continued to hang out for years after that, making out here and there after wrestling, actually getting together for less than twenty-four hours about four years ago in a drunken haze on the fourth of July. He told me after that that we couldn't actually date, that he wasn't feeling it, and I told him that I understood. We haven't dated since, haven't kissed; at that moment I was over him, tired of pining for someone for four years who didn't have any feelings back.

Ky - I talked to this guy when I worked at CiCi's; he was super cute. I took him home and looked away when he went to kiss me goodnight. I told him to try again and we made out, his dad bringing him the phone interrupting us. To this day I don't know what exactly transpired; I felt his dad looking at me and I averted my eyes. That embarrassed the crap out of me and I didn't talk to him after that, even at work. He did take friends up there one time after he got fired and they all laughed at me as I walked by. I ignored them and clocked in, not sparing him even a glance as he left.

B - During my senior year of high school, I dated a freshman. He was mature for his age and he was very sweet to me. We hung out at his house with his family; I played with his guinea pigs and one peed on my pants so he gave me a pair of his pajama pants. He helped me take care of my mechanical baby while I was in "Prep for Parenting." His dad said that he didn't want to hear that "he slipped and fell into some girl and got her pregnant." Sleeping together was NEVER on the table, never on my mind; I just enjoyed his company. I did make the mistake of making out with him and making him uncomfortable; he broke up with me in the band hall a few days later saying that we "have nothing in common." I was hurt, but honestly I saw it coming. That large of an age gap in high school would not really lead to a long-term relationship. I went to work that night and had a decent night. We spoke a lot less from that point on.

R - My neighbor across the street kitty-corner from us somehow got my number (probably from the kid that used to live with him that tried to sex up my underage sister and asked me out within a couple of months of each other) and started chatting up. Really I think he justed wanted to have sex with me, but I wasn't comfortable with casual sex, or sex in general. Still am not, really (after being taught to NOT HAVE SEX EVER AT ALL AMEN for most of my life it became hard to just be comfortable with it). He said that we would never be able to get together because of unforeseen circumstances and I haven't spoken to him since. Which is awkward, since we still live in the same houses and make eye contact sometimes.

C - This didn't come until I was working at Michaels. We were friends first and made out at my twenty-first birthday party; I was hoping against hope that he would remember that the next morning - he did. We played rock band, I met his brother and mom, and she and I became semi-close. He started dating his ex behind my back and eventually, after a horrible day where I cried in the managers' office at work, he broke up with me - it lasted two weeks and he got me sick. I went with his mom to a concert since we still talked, and we took my sister; she couldn't get into the club because she wasn't 21, so she spent the entire time riding the shuttle back and forth from the venue and the hotel. His mom and I haven't seen each other since, or talked. He and I are not part of each other's lives.

A - I made out with someone during my party phase, and hung out with him and that friend that dated J. We made out at one of those parties, and I truly wanted to have sex with him. Turns out that he is gay and that sleeping with him would have been really bad. He's been with the same guy for a long time; I am glad to see them happy.

E - Some guy in film class. We never actually dated; I was torn between him and the guy that would become my boyfriend, but he was not ready and that was perfectly okay. We just hung out and watched a movie and played video games. I am glad that we were only ever friends.

M - (You can see our relationship at a glance in the blog entitled "To My Abuser".) I met this guy in college in 2010, and he captivated my mind, heart, and soul. I knew I wanted to get to know him as soon as I saw him. We hung out a few times, him spending the night on the couch the first time he stayed over. We listened to music while snuggling on the couch one night, and I invited him to sleep in my bed. We made out all night off and on; he said later that this was a test to see if I was easy and I passed because we didn't have sex - he couldn't stand sluts and wanted to make sure I "wasn't one." We dated for awhile, eventually deciding to be in a relationship. There were nine months full of bliss that I couldn't imagine going better. We hung out with his friends, went on dates, said I love you. We went to the Botanic Gardens with my sister once and had a great time; we went on a trip to Waco together and had a blast; we stayed in a hotel in Austin together while my mom visited her friend and enjoyed the evening; we went to Anime Conventions together, dressing up as Eeveelutions with a few friends. He revealed a secret to me that I mark as the beginning of our decline; not because he revealed it - I made it a point to kiss him on the forehead and reassure him that I was there - but because it brought me too close to him. All throughout our relationship he had unresolved feelings for his ex, and she never really, truly let him go; he actually saw her by himself in their house when we agreed not to be by ourselves with exes and swore that he didn't cheat on me - I never even had my dear friend, J, over or went out to dinner with him except for two or three times in the entirety of our two years together. The longer we were together, I became his door mat - my opinions ceased to matter, and I was expected to go along with everything lest we fight. And we fought - a lot. He wasn't mentally healthy, and I wasn't mentally healthy - I was depressed, and when I attempted to tell him he insisted there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. I was throwing up one night and instead of being here to comfort me he was outside talking to his friend on the phone (army buddy, so I tried to be understanding, but I was ill and really needed my boyfriend at the moment). I waited up for him to get off of the phone with his army buddy one time and we didn't go to bed until around 6 a.m. - I had classes at 8 a.m. the next day. We always saw his friends but rarely saw mine. I was more entwined with his family than I was with mine. I converted to Judaism because he somehow convinced me that Christianity was not the right religion, and tried to live by all of the principles set forth in the Tanakh, enjoying the holy days but not the week long period separations, and eventually just became very unhappy. We did celebrate Holy days and bring our family together for Passover. I became a snobby know it all right along with him, yelling at Christians that they were wrong and offending my mom when I spoke slander about Jesus. I almost stopped celebrating Christmas altogether but couldn't do that to my mom or grandma. We studied Hebrew together, and my mom paid for a few of his lessons. We had him go to the Chiropractor about his scoliosis (mom paid for that, too) only to have him stop going altogether and wasting months of money even after he broke up with me. I lived out of a backpack for awhile due to swapping houses, and didn't get a lot of writing done during NaNoWriMo the second time I attempted it while dating him. We would listen to music and quiz each other on who the artist was - he argued with me for a full five minutes about a slow song by Rise Against, swearing that it wasn't them and he wasn't mollified until I showed him. He kept me at a friend's house on Christmas Eve because he didn't want to drive me home, and when I got back the day after Christmas to find my dad missing he acted like it was no big deal. He decided to stop pursuing Judaism for Taoism, and that left me with forsaking that lifestyle and losing ALL of the dreams that I had about marrying a Jewish man and raising Jewish children; I was also responsible for buying his books about Taoism. He was mentally and emotionally abusive and manipulative. I pressured him for sex. We were not healthy for one another, but I still would have stayed with him, though I am under the impression that, ultimately, things would have ended badly anyway. Everything good was tinged with something bad. While he was away for a week in a mental institution, I read his journal and talked to a couple of our mutual friends about it; I never told him because I was afraid that he might be angry - he even told me about the journal's contents, so I figured why tell him? My best friend told me not to tell him - she knew how he would react. He didn't find out until five months later, two months before our two year anniversary, when one of our mutual friends told him on accident. On Father's Day of 2013, he packed up ALL of his stuff that was over here - he had a lot of stuff from places we went together since he lived here a lot of the time and we switched between here and his mom's apartment - and stole a PS3 that I told him I wanted my sister to have (I tried to get him to pay me for it a week later once I found out and he never did). I didn't eat for close to 48 hours after that, punishing myself for something that wasn't entirely my fault. A couple of days after he broke up with me, my lady pals came together and cooked dinner for me; one of them asked how I was religiously and I answered that I am not - she said that she felt M caused me to hate god - I replied that really he caused me to hate everything including him. Work was hard because I went in during nap time (this was when I worked at the preschool), so I went in an hour later. I tried hard to move forward, not doing so great for a long time. I would randomly message him, yelling at him or trying to force a meeting, calling his dad when he wouldn't answer his phone; it was a mess. I was a messy ex-girlfriend. I messaged him recently because I want to hash things out - get through the previously left mess - but that has not happened yet. I have a lot of reservations about him, and still have A LOT OF ANXIETY in terms of who he is and what he put me through. We never did end up meeting and he has since blocked me over Facebook because he got angry over something that I said - big fucking deal. He can get over it.

Jos - The week M and I broke up, I invited this guy over. I talked to him during the relationship since he was a friend from another college class, and hung out with him while my ex was away - he got inappropriate and wrestled me and I didn't have him over again since M said that it made him uncomfortable. I did, however, have this guy over after we broke up; I just needed a friend, and a guy's attention made me feel better. We watched Anastasia together and things got inappropriate; I told him that those lines don't need to be blurred, that we were friends but to be nothing else. He came and played Pokemon Stadium with me, buying a controller for my N64 and bringing a pizza. I enjoyed hanging out with him. I tried not to send mixed signals - I always talked about how I was sad and recovering from a break up and how I hadn't showered all week and was so, so sad that M left me. He came over whenever I asked him to, snuggling with me and sleeping over one time. The lines got blurred, as they do in all of these situations, and we did end up making out and having sex within the week. We dated for a little bit longer, and I tried to force romantic feelings for him. I tried to return the favor of his taking care of me by taking him out to a Mexican food restaurant, paying for it, and going on a couple more errands. I slept naked with him in his bed after we had sex, and talked about personal things - "I could never claim that with you." He had the presence of mind to end it after a few weeks, seeing that it wasn't going well and noticing that I was using him. I felt like shit about the using him part, though I did feel like I made myself clear on what we were and how we should have kept things. He messaged me later and told me to get myself checked - that was an embarrassing doctor appointment to make at work, and I got a stern talking to later for doing it up front by the reception desk. We didn't talk for a long time - I blocked him on facebook, then unblocked him to check on him, leaving him unblocked. Recently, like within the past year recently, I contacted him to let him know he looks like Raymond Reddington from The Blacklist, and he sent me a message that was very offensive. He told me that nothing that we did was consensual, and that I was a terrible person, and that if I wanted a reunion that I could not have that. Had he not blocked me I would have pointed out all of the facebook messages that are still archived where I said that I didn't actually want to have sex with him; I did that for him, to make him feel wanted and validated. He had no right to accuse me of rape because someone was hurt, and that someone was not me. I am not a terrible person - I just made bad judgement calls. If anything, it can be said that he took advantage of a mentally ill woman to assuage his own insecurities as she was recovering from an emotionally abusive relationship, but I'm a bigger person than to point fingers. As far as a reunion, no fucking thank you - I'm fine without you.

W - I met this guy on plenty of fish. We hung out a few times; I took my sister out to meet him the first time and we had a good time. I made him letters for his door and got him a poster at a Con. I went by myself a couple of times after that, and the second and third time I went out there we had drinks and watched stuff on television and had sex. It was different; it actually hurt and was uncomfortable - he said that if I "could actually take a dick" it would be better. I was in an insecure phase so I kept checking to make sure we were okay - he promptly pointed out that he has other FRIENDS and that none of them ever checked in to make sure that they were okay as FRIENDS. I got angry and didn't go out to see him again; I had been treated like shit already by two other people within a short amount of time and frankly I kind of had enough. Except that I still felt like I needed him to validate me, so I still messaged him. I did message him one time while drunk about wanting him to come out - he made it seem like he expected me to buy drinks and I was going to say okay but my friend A told me not to fucking to that. After that I kind of let any romantic stuff slip away; he seemed to much like M anyway in terms of personality traits and I was not looking for anyone close to that. I ended up not going out there after awhile because he started dating someone new and I resented how he treated her in the beginning and how he treated me and I needed to distance myself.

Joh - There was this guy who had one of the most common names on the planet who contacted me out of the blue telling me that he had a crush on me in high school; he asked me to hang out and I said okay. He was bipolar, and it scared me because M was bipolar as well. By this point I knew that I couldn't handle a relationship and really just wanted to have a guy friend. We went out to dinner (he paid) and said the only reason was that he fancied me, and paid for something else that night. We hung out a total of three times, watching Netflix and chatting. He felt as if he had a claim to me and would get angry when I was talking to other guys. I was just getting over W (because I liked him a lot and it didn't work), was getting over Jos, and M - I had enough on my plate in terms of bruised and shattered hearts. I was out partying with my friend (the same night that I texted W) and texted this guy, saying that there was a cute guy and that I asked for his number, not truly understanding the implications since I didn't have romantic feelings for him. He freaked out and quit talking to me; I had to apologize for hurting his feelings and explained, again, that we were just friends, that I was going to date and have sex with whoever I wanted, and if he wanted to be in my life he had to be okay with that. I met someone else on plenty of fish, starting blasting his name on facebook, and this guy got pissed off a second time and blocked me on facebook, telling me that I would never see or hear from him again because I am a terrible person blah blah blah. I'm still not unblocked. Good riddance, man.

POF - There was this one guy from plenty of fish that I only ever texted, right around the time that I met the right guy for me on plenty of fish. This guy was religious and didn't seem to have a problem that I am not. Alas, it did not work - I texted him to let him know that there was someone else and that I wouldn't be talking to him anymore. He attempted to make me feel guilty but I did not care by this point - I wasn't feeling the same chemistry that I felt with someone else.

WTF - When I met a second guy on plenty of fish, one of his friends tried to chat me up on facebook. He was also bipolar - I was not about to even touch that again with a two-thousand foot pole. I told him to stop and that I was interested in his friend - he responded by continuing to hit on me. I deleted him.

My James - I met James on plenty of fish in September of 2012; he said that he saw my profile, clicked on it and hit back because he felt that I wouldn't be interested in him. He saw me a second time and sent me a message, of which I still have saved on my computer. We started talking about our shared interests - Pokemon (He saw my Cosplay picture as me dressed up as Espeon as a convention), conventions (he's been to several), dragon ball Z, five finger death punch, etc. Neither of us are religious - I decided before I met him that I am a nothing, a non-religious being who believes that multiple gods exist, if there's anything out there at all, and he digs that. Maybe I believe in reincarnation because I would love to believe that my dead family members are out there somewhere. Either way, we aren't religious, and that's nice. After talking back and forth for a few days, we added each other on Facebook. That led to us chatting a lot over IM, talking for hours over the phone at night, and getting along really well. I decided that I had to meet this man, so I made plans with him and left all of his information, heading out to Arlington on a sunny day. I had just gotten a tattoo the night before so I wore a tank top in an effort not to rub it too much (it's on my left shoulder). I was two hours late because I passed up his apartments and ended up in North Arlington as opposed to South Arlington. My phone died and I had to stop at a gas station to call home to get his number so that I could call him, getting his apartments' name and number. The man that answered was nerdy and cute with bright blue eyes and blond hair and ten months older than me. He had his shit together, a job and an apartment and a room mate that took forever to get used to me coming around. He was non-threatening, so I walked straight into his bedroom after greeting him and dropped my bag in the floor; that was when he fell in love with me. He told me that day that he loved me, and I sincerely felt that he meant it; this is the man that watched ALL of the youtube videos that I created and posted on my channel. I told him that the fact that he said it was nice but that I wasn't going to say it until I was ready. We watched movies and I met his friends that day. I believe they ended up watching Hellraiser while I hid in his bedroom. He gave me Pokemon and Digimon trading cards. I kissed him during the movie; I wanted to, so I did, and took him completely off guard. I went over a second time, spending time with his friends, and stayed the night. We had sex that night; he gave me his virginity. We dated for a few weeks before making it official; I was STILL HEALING. I picked him up one day so that he can come over, help me with a desk and/or watch a movie. We watched The Vow, and at the end of it I bawled like a baby; I had experienced more loss in relationships that I could handle and it slapped me in the face. I cried over other people while he held me, and I realized that he was someone special. So on October 15th (the 14th is our anniversary since the 15th is my sister's birthday), I decided that we could officially be together. We skyped all of the time while he lived in Arlington, and in 2013 he moved in here with my mom, sister, dad and I. Sometimes I think that we got together too soon, and that I should have stayed single for a lot longer; there are things that I will miss, like living on my own by myself, but I do not regret entering into a relationship with him. I ended up going to Therapy for 7 or 8 months in order to deal with the issues I've had since childhood, learn how to cope with my daddy issues (can you tell that those have been a theme throughout the rest of my relationships?) and previous failed relationships - he even attended a couple of sessions. James is one of the kindest and most patient men. He has cooked me pancakes as a surprise and brought them to me in bed, bought me ice cream when I was sad, purchased Advil when I was sick with a fever, checked on me during sexual encounters while I had pneumonia to make sure that I was breathing okay, lets me say and do whatever I want (within reason, like cheating is definitely out of the question and he hates smokers - I don't smoke anyway, so that's good) and likes my strong reactions to a lot of things. He likes that I speak my mind and that I have opinions. He makes me laugh and cry and so fucking angry sometimes that I have to just walk away - and I do the same to him. We've had ups and downs - we are not perfect. We have come close to breaking up because he chose the wrong words during an argument - I took two days to mull things over and decided that I absolutely need him (I've told him before that it's him or no one else - if we do not work out I am not dating any more, ever). I could not imagine my life without him - he balances my life so well - he is calm when I am quick to anger (I am like the Hulk - always angry), he has a good memory when mine falls short, shows patience when I am absolutely fed up, apologizes when it is clear that I will not (I usually apologize second), and listens to any issues I have with his behavior and takes my promises to work on mine. We are good for each other so far, and coming up on our third year together. I know our story is just beginning - there's still engagement (which he is dragging his feet on, for whatever reason or another), a wedding, children (hopefully!), making our marriage work, and growing old together. We still need to get his driver's license and get him a car; we need to move out on our own. Despite only being at the beginning, I do look forward to experiencing the rest of our unwritten journey, hand in hand with the love of my life, the man I hope to experience Forever with. (Update - We are engaged!! We got engaged July 30th of 2015; we are getting married in May of 2017!)

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I honestly didn't know there was a food called a "quiche" until I was ten or eleven, and didn't even know how to spell "keish" until much later than that, like past high school later.

I learned about quiche when my sister and I spent some time at my Aunt M and Uncle B's. My aunt cooked dinner every night, one night making broccoli when the Power Puff Girls' episode with the Evil Broccoli was playing (I still didn't eat that disgusting food). One night she got my cousin and I in there to help, making my first quiche. It had scrambled eggs in it, I know that; I forget what all else we put in there.

We spent an hour or so making it, letting it sit over night. The build was much longer than my affection for the quiche.

I was so excited to eat this piece of new food. I cut a piece of the quiche, put it on a plate, and took a bite. I did eat half of the piece, but I ended up not liking it very much. The texture freaked me out, and the crust - always my favorite part of everything - tasted weird. We had it several times during that visit, and on future visits, but the taste didn't develop much past that. I do not attribute it to my aunt's cooking, because she's made some killer lasagna and other food that is the best I've tasted, but to my under developed taste buds and texture preferences.

... Now that I have completely wasted your time with this entry, because this is the ONLY Q THING I COULD THINK OF THAT I COULD WRITE ABOUT, I shall prance away into the night.


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My family had the pleasure of having many pets over the years.

When I was born, my mom already had a black/white tuxedo cat named Cato, a female german shephard named Bonnie, and a male german shephard named Bruzer (true story). These pet friends were inseparable; Bruzer used to pick Cato up by the head in his mouth and love on her; Bonnie was Bruzer's life companion. Cato had really bad allergies that kept her from being healthy when I was a kid, and she eventually passed away; she hid under a shelf in our garage and died - we found her covered in maggots. Bruzer had heart worms, and mom decided to say goodbye to the both of them, having them put down because we couldn't afford the medications.

We had a puppy named Fluffy for a little bit; I'm not sure where we even got him. Fluffy got ticks really, really bad. Mom did everything she could - tick baths, etc, but he didn't get better. He died in the middle of the night as mom was preparing to take him to the emergency vet - we buried him in our back yard and dad had to dig him up again and move his body because he was buried too close to the house and it made our bathroom stink.

Then there were the guinea pigs. I had my favorite orange and black one, Spooky, and Rachel had Goldie, an orange and white one. Both females mated with our males, Chocolate - a black one - and Fuzzy - a long-haired grey one; their babies came out really awesome, and we gave them to our horseback riding teacher at the time. The guineas used to squeak in their guinea pig way when we brought in grocery store bags, assuming that we had a carrot treat for them - we most often than not did. We had an enclosure on the side of the house that we took them outside and let them play in under close supervision. Goldie one died and Goldie Two was brought home to replace her. When Spooky died during childbirth, after months of mom badgering us to get rid of them, I agreed to give the remaining guinea pigs to our horseback riding teacher. I hope Fuzzy had a good rest of his life.

I wish I had pictures of the cats, dogs, and piggies; we may have some long burried one of the first three pets, but any guinea pig pictures that were taken were on my Carmen San Diego camera that I never got back from the printers.

After the guinea pigs, we were petless for awhile. Suddenly, a year or so later, it was decided that we needed a pet. We went to the animal shelter to find one. Rachel went into a room with cats that were older, and found one that was due to be put down within a short amount of time because she was returned twice. That's how we found Tigger. We took SO MANY pictures of miss Tigger whenever we brought her home; most are print outs and not digital. She would climb into our pet nets, lay on coffee tables, and would play in the most adorable way. She's only ever gotten really sick once a year ago, and the vet was able to make her better. I'm proud to report that she's been with us for... ten or eleven years now, still alive and kicking, feisty as ever.

We had a boxer for a week once; she was too nervous and tore up our living room so we had to rehome her.

One day, on the way home from school, Rachel found a little yellow tabby cat in a lady's engine. She brought it home, and for awhile we couldn't tell if it was male or female. I wanted a turn in naming a pet, so I picked the name Sandy. Mom was nice enough to let us keep him. He's a sweet boy but sprays everything since his spay/neuter wasn't done correctly. We let him come in to eat, then let him back out once he starts yelling at us.

A couple of years later, this cat was walking up and down our street. The neighbors were feeding her, but not actually bringing her into their homes. Mom, Rachel and I fell in love with her. Rachel's friend at the time was here when mom decided, after having a stern talking to with the neighbors about whose cat she would be if mom took her to the vet and got her the shots etc, that we should name her Kitty Kitty. Kitty Kitty is a gentle cat unless you sniff her and make weird noises at her. She is easy going and allows us to mess with her, as shown above, and could really care less what we do to her; she trusts us to love and protect her, and we would never betray that. She sleeps with me most nights and is my little sidekick.

A year or so after that, our neighbor brought a tiny black kitten over. This baby boy fit in the palm of our hands, and had a chain bolted around his neck as a collar. Rachel lied and told mom that she would look for his home, but had no intention - who could blame her? We managed to get the collar off and had him with us ever since. This baby kitten took to Sandy quite well; they were the best of buddies from kittenhood on. All of the cats loved him, even Kitty Kitty, who hates Sandy and rarely tolerates Tigger. We decided to name him Fang, since he bit a lot and attacked toes, and he grew up to be quite the handsome cat.

For awhile, our living room looked like this - a room with cats sprawled on random pieces of furniture.

Last year, two weeks before Thanksgiving, Rachel called him in and, as he was crossing the street, a car hit him. His pelvic bone was broken, but he was otherwise okay. We tried our best to nurse him back to health; Rachel was with him day and night - I payed for vet bills and whatever treatments were necessary. I went away to celebrate Thanksgiving with James's family, and that night Fang died. His loss is still felt by us; as the youngest we expected him to live much longer, but time played us for fools.

A couple of years ago, Rachel's friend asked her if she wanted to take a rescued corn snake off of her friend's hands. Rachel immediately said yes - see the trend here? - and we got him a terrerium and lamps and food. My ex and I even got her a few things to put in it for her birthday. Pinkie the albino corn snake has lived with us since, content to shed and grow and eat frozen mice in his large habitat.

Last year, a neighbor across the street had this rat that she needed someone to take. Rachel and I went over to look at the rat, and I fell in love despite the fact that we never ever had a rat before. I couldn't begin to know what to do with it, but here she was - this ten month old rat in a tiny bird cage with soiled bedding. I picked her up so that we could change the bedding, and she bit me that first day; my friend had to wrestle her into a shoebox from the floor so that we could keep her safe. This little rat came to be known as Honey Badger, or 'Honey' for short.

She was by herself until Rachel was able to socialize her, spending hours a day talking and singing and cooing to her trying to get this poor rat into a more healthy mind set. We eeped at her every time she bit us to get her to understand that we are part of her rat pack. We were so excited when Honey let us pick her up without biting!

Honey is super old in rat years now and has a massive tumor that makes up most of her body mass, and a second one that just keeps growing. We know that we need to put her down soon, but we just can't bring ourselves to.

Once Honey was socialized, we were able to get her some friends. We went to PetoRama and looked at rats. James and I fell in love with a black rat that we named Soot Spirit, 'Spirit' for short, who was essentially James's rat. Spirit and Honey were cage mates since the day we brought her home, and they got along pretty well despite Spirit being kind of a bully sometimes. She chewed on everything (we have the PS3 controllers and remote control to prove it) and tried to get to the human food if we ate anywhere near her.

For some reason or another, Spirit got really, really sick. Honey was constantly medicated so that kept Spirit alive longer, but we could tell that she was drifting away. I planned to take her to the vet, but she died a couple of days before I was able while I watched her spirit slip from her body in a hopeless moment of panic. We put her in a sealed tightly popcorn box and buried her in my back yard, below Rachel's window.

On the same day we brought Spirit home, we picked up Angel, the white, beige hooded Dumbo rat that Rachel absolutely fell in love with despite the fact that she was the sickest one of the bunch. If I'm being honest, I fell in love iwth her, too.

Angel is Rachel's pride a joy, the rat that she nursed back to health from the brink of death; the poor dear had overgrown teeth that led to starvation, and an ear infection that needed treatment. She is still with us, though she also has a tumor that keeps growing and will not get any better. Surgery is not really an option for us - most rats do not survive the surgery even if their owners have the money. For now, we have this beautiful little darling, and she blesses us every day with her presence.

Since we had three rats sharing a cage, we bought a second cage that led to Angel being by herself a lot of the time. I saw a rat that I fell in love with on the day that I bought the second cage, and upon having to return said cage and exchange it for another one, I snatched this baby up.

I named her Lightning before we even made it out of Petsmart. She instantly got along with Angel. She was fearless and would climb the roof of her cage, upside down, from one side to the other. She jumped like nobody's business, from perilous heights. She died last year due to an ear infection that got out of control; the lightning bolt that went down her nose made it look like she was perfectly fine even though she had a head tilt that indicated an ear infection. On top of that, she had an eye injury inflicted by Angel, who started picking on Lightning once she realized that she was sick. I payed $25 for the vet to kill our rat, after doing everything humanly possible for her. On the way to the vet, Lightning jumped around for us one last time even though she was absolutely miserable and was to the point of denying food and water. She was truly something else, and I will not forget her.

The most recent pet that I brought home was another white rat, this one a Fancy. Honey was left without a cage mate when Spirit passed, so I thought I would get her one. The problem was... PetoRama, the place where I got an adult rat before, shut down, and everyone in our area only had rats that were three months old as opposed to ten months old. We snatched this one up right away - she was too adorable not to. When I bought her, I told Rachel her name was either Rose or Lily - Rachel wanted to know what about her reminded me of a flower. We picked Lily. Poor Lily fell off the bed the first night that we had her home while we were cleaning the cages - a few minutes later we managed to locate her under the bed and caught her. We tried sticking her with Honey at first, but Honey was not very nice since she was not accustomed to a baby rat in the cage, so we put her with Angel and Lightning, while she was still alive. Eventually we were able to move Lilly in with Honey, but after Lightning passed she has been shuffled from one cage to the other, obviously preferring Angel's cage but loving on Honey and snuggling with her just the same. She is a sweet, shy girl, easily startled and prone to scampering away and hiding at sudden movements. She lets us pick her up and hold her on her back, something that the other rats have never become used to; this will help when we need to trim her nails or look at her belly or something of that nature. I am glad that we were able to bring her home.

Here's what our bed looks like occasionally during cleaning times - This is an older picture, from when Spirit and Lightning were still with us, but it does convey the general idea.

I know we are going to lose Honey and Angel soon; when that happens I hope to get another rat for Lily as a companion, so that she can live the rest of her ratty days with a friend.

This concludes our pet adventures for now. Tune in later in my life when we are able to get another rat and perhaps a dog. Or a bird, as Rachel would love to have.

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(O)pen Carry - the Texas Constitutional Carry Act of 2015

This was passed today.

This bill is pretty simple, though I have some mixed feelings about it.

Essentially, it outlines ways that a person can commit offenses while using the handgun - A person commits an offense if the person intentionally, knowingly, or recklessly carries on or about his or her person a handgun in a motor vehicle or watercraft that is owned by the person or under the person's control at any time in which the person is: the handgun is in plain view; or the person is: engaged in criminal activity, other than a Class C misdemeanor that is a violation of a law or ordinance regulating traffic or boating; prohibited by law from possessing a firearm; a member of a criminal street gang, as defined by Section71.01. Pretty much, don't use the gun while operating any type of vehicle/boat, and don't partake in criminal activity.

Unlawful places to have a handgun - (1) on the premises of a business that has a permit or license issued under Chapter 25, 28, 32, 69, or 74, Alcoholic Beverage Code, if the business derives 51 percent or more of its income from the sale or service of alcoholic beverages for on-premises consumption, as determined by the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission under Section 104.06, Alcoholic Beverage Code; (2) on the premises where a high school, collegiate, or professional sporting event or interscholastic event is taking place, unless the person is a participant in the event where a handgun is used in the event; (3) on the premises of a correctional facility; (4) on the premises of a hospital licensed under Chapter 241, Health and Safety Code, or on the premises of a nursing home licensed under Chapter 242, Health and Safety Code, unless the person has written authorization of the hospital or nursing home administration, as appropriate; (5) in an amusement park; (6) on the premises of a church, synagogue, or other established place of religious worship; (7) at any meeting of a governmental entity; (8) while intoxicated So, don't have the handgun out in buildings that sell alcohol, schools, government meetings, hospitals, church/synogogue/other religious establishment.

Hell, it even says how SECURITY GUARDS can unlawfully use their weapon - (b) A person who is licensed as a security officer under Chapter 1702, Occupations Code, and employed as a security officer commits an offense if, while in the course and scope of the security officer's employment, the security officer violates a provision of Subchapter H, Chapter 411, Government Code.

It continues to give a list of defensive ways to use a handgun, and who is permitted to do so, including this handy section about police officers and how they would be restricted in terms of just arresting someone with an openly carried gun. AUTHORITY OF PEACE OFFICER TO DISARM. (a) A peace officer who is acting in the lawful discharge of the officer's official duties may disarm a person in possession of a handgun at any time the officer has probable cause to believe that the person poses an imminent threat to themselves, the officer, or another individual. The peace officer shall return the handgun to the person before discharging the person from the scene if the officer determines that the person is not a threat to themselves, the officer, or another individual and if the person has not committed any violation that results in their arrest. The mere possession or carrying of a firearm, openly or concealed, with or without a Concealed Handgun License, shall not constitute probable cause for a peace officer to disarm or detain an otherwise law-abiding person.

Honestly, I'm kind of creeped out that there are no more concealed carry licenses, though I supposed they are now irrelevent since everyone can just openly carry. I was kind of hoping for a bit more regulation in terms of handgunes, not to allow people to flaunt them wherever; how they woudl regulate it I don't know - I'm not the lawmaker. I just think that allowing everyone who wants to open carry to do so isn't that great of an idea. This allows people intending to do harm to scope out a place and find out who is carrying, perhaps take someone else's gun and use it against the patrons in the area. It may incite fear to approach certain people with a gun on their hip. Maybe only time will tell how well, or poorly, this may work, but I still have my reservations. I can only hope that it will work out for the better, with less crime, instead of backfiring on the people who wrote and passed this bill.

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Sissy - A name bestowed upon me by my mom, since she knew I was going to be a big sister. Used by my mom and sister.

Squirrel - A completely out of the blue nickname that dad started using a year or so ago.

Kim - I don't know when this one started, since I wasn't allowed to have an actual real life nickname when I was younger. The farthest back I can remember is in eighth grade, the group of friends that I hung out with called me Kim. It kind of caught on from there - people in high school, even at least one in college, called me Kim. Not many others are allowed. I don't actually like it because it reminds me of when I was a kid, young and ignorant and stupid; it is only an endearing nickname when those who have been calling me by this for years say it.

Hobbit - A name gained through being in Marching Band around the time that the Lord of the Rings movies came out. Also, I have hairy toes. So... there's that.

Sista KP - Another girl and I shared the same basic portions of our name. We called each other that for years.

Kim Possible - After that TV show came on, that's what people called me for a little while. I have a badge from Disney with her on it to commemorate that time period.

Midget - I stopped growing in the eighth grade, at four feet eleven and a fourth inches. I have not grown since then. I remember a time where I was taller than my sister and younger cousins. As time passed, they surpassed me, my youngest cousin, a freshman in high schoo, passing me when he was in seventh grade. I have always been short. I have always had to climb on top of the counters in order to get something from the high shelves. So in band, since I was one of the shortest people present, and I didn't grow all through high school, they were kind enough to bestow this name upon me.

Peter/Peter Parker - I can't explain this one fully, but I will say that it was given to me by my old manager at the craft store during my first week there. It spread like wild fire since then, and for a good chunk of time everyone was calling me by those names.

Kimmy - A variation of Kim, mainly used by my youngest cousin.

Kimby - Bestowed upon me by my uncle B during one of our stays with him.

Kimbabimbabam - Given to be by my friend Alex, a person who I actually have never met in real life but have known for over ten years through the Internet. We essentially grew up together. This was a pretty random name she randomly decied to use for me.

Joey Wheeler - A name I used when chatting. Someone else would use Serenity Wheeler, and we would wheeeeeel.

ScarletWolf/ScarletWarrior - Two other chat names that I used while roleplaying when I was younger.

Love Muffin - A nickname that James and I use for each other. I called him by this as a complete joke one day since I don't like using pet names, and it has stuck with us.

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(M)oney, (M)other, (M)isery, (M)arriage, and (M)ooing on (M)onday.

Money - I honestly wish that we had more of this within our lives. My family struggles financially. If we had more money, maybe we would be able to pay all of our bills on time. I know that if I win the lottery, if I ever feel like trying, I would use the money for the following - paying off my mom's house, paying off both of our cars, putting myself through school in order to get my Bachlor and Master degrees debt free, getting my sister licensed and her car fixed, pay for all taxes on my grandmother's house, buying a house of my own, getting married, set aside some for my children's college education. I may even donate some, though I would feel just fine being selfish in order to better mine and my family's lives.

Mother - My mom is actually pretty awesome. We had a rocky relationship there for awhile during my teen years, and fought on Thanksgiving once, and we do get on each other's nerves, but she is a good mom. She made us eat our vegitables growing up, got surgeries so that she felt better and could stay around to raise us, always put my sister and I first. She divorced my dad so that our family could have a better life, and raised us alone for the better part of ten years. She is the mediator between my sister and I when necessary. She is my hero.

Misery - Sadness. But deep, deep sad. Like the world is ending and it feels like there is literally no coming back from it. The heart pulling, earth shattering moments.

Marriage - I try to have a healthy perspective on this. I've seen my mom's marriage fail, and a lot of my friend's parents are divorced. I know the various reasons why various marriages have ended (all the way from child molestation to alcoholism to we just didn't work anymore). I've seen marriages work despite the fact that at times it seemed like they just really shouldn't have. I know that I want to get married, and I'm pretty sure James is the one I want to marry. I try to be realistic here - we will get married, and do our damndest to make it work, but if it doesn't work... it doesn't work. If we end up hating each other in the future, it's okay to go our separate directions. People change, things that are unpredictable happen, and (in my honest opinion) it is super unhealthy to think that despite the earth-shattering events we will be stuck with one another forever. Despite what I've just said, I really do hope that James and I are forever. I've dated enough people (will be covered in a later blog) to know what I want and need and don't want and seriously do not need in a relationship; James and I seem to be where I want to be in a relationship, and that gives me hope that we will last as long as forever does for us.

Mooing - When I was in high school, my friend Kyle would randomly moo; he was the funny kid, now funny adult. In Rent, Maureen asks us to "Moo with me!," so for awhile I would do her exact moo. My sister moos. Cows moo. James even yelled at the cows and said "MOO! I AM THE COW LORD! BOW TO ME!" It seems to me that moments and things like these make life more random and fun. Bring on the mooing!

Monday - Most of the time lately the beginning of my weeks do not fall on Monday. The beginning actually falls on Saturday, so Saturday is my Monday. I think that no matter what day your/my "Monday" falls on, it will always be the same. "Monday" is the day that I have to adjust from staying up until 6 a.m. on my days off to getting in bed, hopefully, by 2:30/3:30 a.m. so that I can get up at 9:30 a.m. It's the day I go from doing whatever I want to sitting in a chair while taking phone calls. It's the day I feel most bleh, besides my "Friday" when I feel like I am just done. "Mondays" are hard.

The end.

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Love - (n) an intense feeling of deep affection; a person or thing that one loves. (v) feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone)

There are many types of love. Love between friends, family, significant others, objects/things.

Love is what has kept several friends in my life. I go through phases where I delete people from my life; I get so depressed that I want to minimize the number of people that I expose to it. I have located many of the people that I have deleted, trying to mend fences and edge them back into the chaos of my life. Love is what has mended several friendships with people who have walked away; I am very greatful to have them back in my life. Love is what helps us communciate shortcomings with each other, keep us in touch with one another, listen and forgive.

I love my family all of the time, even though I may not like them sometimes. We may get on each other's nerves, but love will always keep us together, and keep us pushing forward. Love is what kept my Mamaw with my Papa despite their not-so-amazing marriage, and reminded her of him every day for the five years that she lived without him. Love is what has held my mom and her brothers' relationships together, despite the many arguements that have occured through the years. Love is what brings our family together, even very briefly, for holidays. Love is what has helped me to forgive my dad for his many transgressions, and to have a decent relationship with him. Love is what has brought my sister and I closer together, despite the fact that I have not always treated her exactly how she should have been treated. Love is what pushes me to make my rounds throughout the house when I get home, making sure to give everyone a smile and hello, despite the fact that I'm usually very tired after work.

Love is what keeps James and I together, despite our numerous disagreements. I have had so many panic attacks (anxiety), and been so outraged, that I have thought about walking away. Walking away would fix everything, right? I would be so much happier alone, once I break two hears, right? No matter how many times I think this way, somehow my mind changes. Love is what opens my heart to James's apology, or brings me to apologize to him. Love is what mends the cracks; love is what allows us to forgive, to overcome, to work together to build a better life. Love helps us to want to be better for each other - not because we have to, but because we want to. We stay together out of love.

Love is what holds my interest for things that would otherwise fade away. Video games, books, words - creating stories, owls, music, being outside on a perfect day, spending time with people that have shown me that I am worthy of love. Love is what has inspired so many of my books. Love is what helps me to feel music and have it improve even the worst day. Love is what makes me squeal every time I find a cute owl trinket to add to my collection. Love keeps me human despite the monstrous depression that lives inside of me.

Love is powerful. It can change someone's life irrevocably for the better. Love is what shines bright within humans despite the darkness, casting light upon the beauty within us. Love is what keeps us strong in the saddest of times, during the darkest tragedies. Love keeps the memories of loved ones lost with us, forever. Love can transcend time and dimensions, and that is one of the most powerful forms of emotion and magic in existance.

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