I’m sorry for any whiny crybaby-ness this post may contain. Having said that, you are not allowed to complain at the end.

I am SO ON MY PERIOD. Thankfully, the normal physical STUPIDNESS that my body forces on me didn’t happen this month. Unfortunately, that left me no warning that It was coming. It first hit me Saturday morning when I got up and was seriously pissed off at the alarm clock. SERIOUSLY. Like, if it was an actual person that shook me awake at 8AM on a Saturday I’d have knocked it’s teeth out. When I was getting dressed I glared at it and rolled my eyes and cursed it under my breath. It just looked back at me and clicked off another minute, unfazed by my Death Glare, which pissed me off even more.

Luckly, I got Cassidy to Saturday School with no big drama and Ben was busy out in the garage with Reid so I didn’t really have anybody around to set It off. I just putzed around the house getting some laundry done and cleaning here and there while cussing at more inanimate objects. Except my beautiful plants. I didn’t cuss at them. I walked around the entire house checking on everything I planted last weekend. Everything was doing very well, growing and flowering and smelling wonderful and somehow that managed to turn my mood around and I was able to enjoy the rest of the day.

At noon I picked up Cassidy and we headed to the Children’s Discovery Museum which is 10 minutes away but we’d never been to. It was a little too young for Cassidy but she still had a good time. I even managed to have a good time despite the fact that a woman and her child seemed to be following us around the museum and whenever the child didn’t get what he wanted he’d lay down on the floor and violently convulse while screaming like a cornered pig. Seriously, at one point the kid laid there and screamed for a good 7-8 minutes while the mom JUST STOOD THERE AND WATCHED. When she tried to pick him up he started scratching and hitting and BIT HER! She just put him down and let him continue…

I was about to get up and drag him out of there myself when Cassidy tried to throw a ball into a massive whirlpool and missed, hitting The Mom of Screaming Terror Kid smack on the side of the face. Then I couldn’t get up for fear of PEEING MYSELF.

That evening we met The Gang at Dave and Buster’s to celebrate Guillermo’s birthday. I was designated driver (without much hesitation because I’m still a little sick from Sandra’s party a few weeks ago) but still had a great time and managed to hit the Jackpot on our favorite game four times total and three times IN A ROW. I rocked the ticket counter.

Then Sunday came and It was the absolute other end of the spectrum. My mom came with me to a Bridal Show and I turned into a CRYBABY! When the fashion show started I actually had to LOOK AWAY as all the skinny models strutted down the runway in frilly white dresses to keep from crying. I’m totally not kidding. I suddenly had this flash of me walking down the isle towards Ben holding my Dad’s arm and it was such a powerful feeling that I almost had to just leave. I was choking back tears and trying to blow it off as allergies. (Note to self: DO NOT plan wedding around time of period or you will just be a blubbering idiot bride.) I mean, I was CRYING over DRESSES! Who the fuck AM I!? I HATE DRESSES! OF EVERY COLOR AND SHAPE AND SIZE AND LENGTH AND PATTERN!!

Well, I don’t hate ALL dresses. (But most!) And then, after that feeling passed I started to panic that I’d never find THE dress. I know what I want, exactly. The cut, the color, the length the flow… and it’s a combination of about 15 different dresses that I’ve never seen combined into one. And it has to be perfect. I want Ben to become weak knee’d and light headed when I start down the isle. So it HAS to be perfect.

Then I started to realize just how expensive wedding’s really are. According to all the budget planners, reception’s are generally 40% of the wedding. The LOW END average of all the places I’ve looked at around here for 100 people is $6000. So if the receptions is $6000 and that’s 40% of the general wedding cost then are we looking at $15000??? To get MARRIED! No, no we can’t do that. That’s too much money to get married.

I have to scale down what I want. I try not to mention “last time” when I talk about this but in this case I will. Last time I didn’t really give a lot of input. I didn’t choose the flowers, I just kinda nodded and said “Yeah, that’s okay.” It was the same way with the cake and the decorations and the music… “Yeah, that’s fine we can do that.” Other than the dress, it just wasn’t me. Victorian is SO NOT ME. I want this wedding to be everything I’ve dreamed of. And I want it to be what Ben’s always thought this day should be. We really need to sit down and hammer out a budget because I want a Cinderella wedding but need to do it on a pre-Fairy Godmother budget.

And this is a testament to my state of mind… At one point during the fashion show, a bride came out holding a bouquet and threw it into the section making the most noise. The person catching it got a free bouquet ($175 value) from the flower vendor I FELL IN LOVE WITH. I waved my hands in the air like a lunatic SCREAMING for those flowers and the bride looked me square in the eye, tossed the bouquet in a perfect arc directly at me… and the girl IN FRONT OF ME jumped up and grabbed it out of the air. I looked at my mom, then back at the girl, then back at my mom who gave me this look of, “We are at a bridal show and if you make a scene I will TOTALLY DISOWN YOU.” She told Ben later, “I thought Anna was about to clobber the girl over the bouquet.” And she was right. That was MY BOUQUET DAMMIT and if my mom hadn’t been there to look at me I’d have grabbed that bouquet and ran for the door. But considering the 1000 rabid women around me, I’d have probably been beaten to death with Louis Vutton purses and four inch Manolo Blahnic’s.

THEN! To top off my emotional roller coaster, when I got home from the show I saw that somebody had ripped my daylily plant out of the ground and dropped it about three feet away. Two of the three stocks had been broken in half so it was completely not salvageable. I was heartbroken. I bought those flowers specifically because they are always included in any bouquet that Ben sends me. I’m sure this isn’t even some conscious decision of his, he just happens to choose bouquet’s that have them in there. But they are very sentimental to me and they were BEAUTIFUL and smelled SO GOOD and I couldn’t wait till they were producing enough flowers that I could bring them in and put a few on my desk and smile at them.

And that was it. The day before of being constantly strained and on the edge, Crazy Screaming Kid at the museum, the late night at Dave and Busters, the wedding show almost breaking me down, some lunatic woman grabbing MY BOUQUET, then my beautiful plant… I was just SO DONE WITH THE WEEKEND. I was exhausted. And I’m sure it was nothing more than my normal monthly period induced exhaustion + the after show Margarita my mom treated me to but I laid down on the couch and slept the rest of the weekend off like a bad hangover.

I have this blog all typed up complete with points and counter points and bullet lists and links to support everything I believe and I know to be true.. and I’m not going to post it. Because what’s the point? I’d just be giving you what you want and I’m not going to do that. I won’t let you win. Because I’m better than you even on my worst day. Even when I’m PMSing and forget to take my Crazy Pills! So in other words, you REALLY SUCK!

HA! I win.

Normally I have warm, fuzzy, wonderful feelings about you. Tonight I’d like to shove sticks under your thumbnails and force you to eat slugs. Can you just SEE THE GODDAMN BORDER?! And really, would it BE SO HARD to just LET THE DIV BE 100% height? Please? I promise to be nice and make you cookies when we are done.

IE is playing nice. So until you decide that you are not ‘above’ playing with us, I’m going to have to rethink our relationship.

Not so patiently waiting,
Antigone
X0X0

You suck. Seriously.

I took the SK2’s to the UPS store by our house Saturday morning. I was there when they opened the doors at 9AM. The only reason they opened them was because I stood outside the door with my box in one hand and the other pounding on the door. They are ALWAYS open later then the sign says they are. Ben has had this problem with them in the past also.

Anyway, no biggie, it was like 9:02 so I wasn’t going to make a big deal about it but the first thing she tells me is,

Dumb UPS Girl (DUPSG): SORRY! We are open but I was trying to get the safe to open. It’s new and I can’t figure it out.
Me: Ooookay. I’m paying with an ATM card. Is that okay?
DUPSG: Oh! Yes, that’s perfect.
Me: Great.

So I get the paperwork all filled out and go up to the counter, she enters the info, we BS, I had her the card…

DUPSG: Oh no.
Me: What?
DUPSG: Our internet connection is down.
Me: So??
DUPSG: I’ll have to call another location to run the card.
Me: Whatever, as long as I get a tracking number.
DUPSG: Okay. *calls other location*

She hand writes the payment info on the receipt and hands it to me.

DUPSG: Don’t worry, this is a valid receipt.
Me: Well, I wasn’t worried till you SAID THAT.

*looks it over*

Me: Where is the tracking number?
DUPSG: Oh, it will be emailed to you within the hour.
Me: Okay.

I didn’t see this as a problem because that’s the norm. Whenever we email a package from there we get an almost instant email. Like, by the time I’m getting in the car outside I have it. This time since the internet was down I figured it might take a bit.

Then I spent all day painting and at 3:30 suddenly remembered and checked, no email. Call UPS store. They close at 3:00. GREAT! Call 1-800-UPS-SUCKSASS to get the tracking number and…

Dumb UPS Girl on Phone (DUPSGOP): You need to call the place you sent it from.
Me: It was a UPS STORE. It should be in the system already, yes? I have my receipt #.
DUPSGOP: Well, we can’t look it up here you need to call them.
Me: They close at 3:00.
DUPSGOP: Okay.
Me: It’s almost 4:00.
DUPSGOP: Oh.
Me: So is there a way you can look this up for me if I give you the address of origin and destination or the receipt number or what do you need?
DUPSGOP: Sure, what’s the tracking number?
Me: Are you serious?
DUPSGOP: Yeah, I need the tracking number to TRACK the package.
Me: Were you HERE 2 minutes ago?
DUPSGOP: Pardon?
Me: Nevermind. Do you know if they are open tomorrow?
DUPSGOP: Who?
Me: The. UPS. Store.
DUPSGOP: Oh, no.
Me: You don’t know what time UPS Stores are open?
DUPSGOP: We don’t have that information here.
Me: At UPS customer service you don’t have any way to check and see what time UPS Stores are open?
DUPSGOP: No, we don’t have that information here.
Me: So… you are UPS customer service right?
DUPSGOP: Yes.
Me: But you can’t tell me where my package is or what time your stores open?
DUPSGOP: I just need the tracking number.
Me: Goodbye.

It took me so long to cool down after that I waited till Monday morning to call the UPS Store. They guy I got was actually really helpful and took my info and got back to me about 5 minutes later. I repeated the tracking number to him to verify it and hung up happy I didn’t have a repeat of the Saturday afternoon conversation.

Then… when I used the number to track the package, no results. $%*&@#* So, I call back…

The UPS Guy I Liked During the First Call (TUPSGILDTFC): It’s not showing up yet?
Me: No, let me just verify the number.
*read back number to him*
TUPSGILDTFC: Yeah, that’s it.
Me: Okay, but it’s not showing up on the website.
TUPSGILDTFC: Okay, hold on.
.
..
…
TUPSGILDTFC: So… It hasn’t left here yet. It will get picked up with today’s packages and you should be able to start tracking it this evening?
Me: WHAT?!
TUPSGILDTFC: It hasn’t been picked up yet.
Me: Why not?
TUPSGILDTFC: It will go out on the truck this afternoon.
Me: Why. Hasn’t. It. Left. Yet?
TUPSGILDTFC: We were having computer problems that day so…
Me: I took the package in SATURDAY. It’s now MONDAY over 48 hours later and the package that I paid to have shipped on SATURDAY is still sitting there?!
TUPSGILDTFC: Well, we didn’t have internet access so the card wasn’t charged till…
Me: SATURDAY!! The card was charged SATURDAY, 2/10. You are The UPS Store #2762 correct?
TUPSGILDTFC: Yes.
Me: The charge cleared on SATURDAY, according to Wells Fargo, when the girl called another store to run the card because your internet was down because I couldn’t pay with cash because she couldn’t figure out how to open the safe!!!
TUPSGILDTFC: It will go out this evening when the truck gets here for the next pick up.
Me: Fantastic.
TUPSGILDTFC: I sorry for the mixup.
Me: So am I. Next time I’ll go to the Post Office, stand in line and pay more.
TUPSGILDTFC: …
Me: Goodbye.

As a follow up. I wrote this yesterday and as I typed out the last conversation, I got the email. Over 72 hours later. Over 71 hours LATE. I then added an entire paragraph here that I reread this morning and realized that ‘fuck those fucking fuckers’ was not great reading so I deleted it.

The End.

I’m selling both of our Sidekick 2’s since we both love the 8525’s. BOTH for $150. Not $150 EACH, but both phones, with chargers, ear pieces, two extra set’s of bumpers, four cases, all books that came with them and in the original boxes for $150.

Every other Sidekick2 for sell on Craigslist is going for $150 or more for ONE phone. In the ad I make it VERY CLEAR that you get both phones and all the accessories we have for $150.

Other SK’s are selling for the same price for ONE. So you are basically getting two for the price of one!

I’ve had probably 50 email’s since I placed the ad on Saturday evening around 9:00PM and 10 of them have read:

Im interested in your sidekick deal. Is $150 a firm price, or is there any room for price negotiation.

Yes it’s firm you cheap bastard! You are getting an entire phone with all the accessories for FREE. You can turn around and sell it on Craigslist and make ALL YOUR MONEY BACK. GAH!

Then there’s:

hello, i’m intrested in the sidekick if you still have please email me with info of when n where to pick up..oh if sim card is included in the price…

Why would I enclude the SIM card? I’m not giving you a phone for free AND paying for your phone service also.

I’m intersted. I havve 140 cash for both. Will pick up asap

$140. Hmmm.. Wow, that’s a really great deal for me! Come pick them up ASAP!! It’s really too bad you can’t see me right now because the extreme to which I just rolled my eye’s is something you can only truly appreciate in person. It’s almost magical.

hello my name is kyle and i am interested in ur 2 sidekick phones but my question is what plan are they cause me and my bro have Cingular and we would like 2 know if we could buy the phones and switch the sim cards. Is that possible? Or do u have 2 have a T-moble plan?

I am selling them, I am not your personal advisor. Generally when you buy something you do research first. When Ben and I were looking at the 8525’s I researched them. I found out that you can use them with T-Mobile but you have to get the more expensive TyTn version for almost $800 and then pay to have it unlocked. I found all of this out on my own using google then I called T-Mobile to verify what I had found.

can you give me your number also your address please?

*bangs head against wall*

I did respond to the one person who managed to write a coherent email and he’s flaked for the last three days. Apparently he can’t drive right now and after first wanting to meet in a public place, called back to ask if I could go to his house instead. Let’s see. I’m giving you a phone for free, and you want me to DRIVE TO YOU, to your HOUSE where you can kill me and chop me into 14,000 tiny pieces and feed me to your goldfish? Um, thanks for the offer but HELL NO.

So… do YOU want the SK2’s? I offered them on NorCal for $100 and I’m extending the same offer to people here at Aflux. If you (or somebody you know) wants the phones I’ll sell them BOTH with all accessories for $100 + shipping whatever that is (if I have serious interest I’ll go to the post office and have them weighed).

I was skimming over my site stats for the first time in a few months because… well, because I was at 127% productivity for the week and I think that means I’m allowed to stop working. It also means I’m insta-bored and watching the clock slowly inch closer and closer to 2:30.

ANYWAY! My bandwidth which normally hoveres around 500-600MB a month suddenly jumped to 1.09GB last month and is pushing 970MB this month. ALL of this has been from hotlinkers. (Well, almost all of it. There are a few people out there who check out the site A LOT while thinking I don’t know but I do know and… *waves middle finger at them*)

I mean, there are about 40,000,000 free image hosters out there according to a simple google search. They host images FOR FREE. F.R.E.E. I do not. I pay for it. And it’s not like I pay any huge amount for it because I’m with the best hosting company in the world run by the best webmistress/web designer in the world and even though I’ve more than DOUBLED the amount of bandwidth I’m supposed to use in a month and she hasn’t said a word, it still bugs me.

To me it’s like tapping into your neighbors water supply. They don’t really feel the effect at first. You conserve. You take 5 minute showers and turn the water off when you brush your teeth and only flush if it’s solid… but after a few months of getting away with it you get greedy. The guilt starts to fade, assuming there was any in the first place, and suddenly you’re letting the kids play in the sprinklers for a few hours while filling up the swimming pool.

I don’t so much mind if somebody takes a silly blinking Santa image and uses it on one blog post to wish all her readers Merry Christmas. To me that’s reasonable. But when you take that image and post it in the comment form of ever single “friend” you have on MySpace, well… YOU SHOULDN’T DO THAT! Or on every forum you post on. Or on every other community blog site you post on. Because every one of those 1,600 “friends” has another 1,600 “friends” and pretty soon 14,367 (actual number of hits recieved so far this month for that one file) people are looking at my picture that’s being hosted on my site that I’m paying for. That’s 10% of my total traffic for the entire month. 115MB! From a .GIF!! And that’s only ONE of the images!

Seriously. I don’t want to have to disable hotlinking because I’d have to spend a stupid amount of time organizing the images I have spread out all over the web into one folder that’s allowable. But PLEASE PEOPLE! Fill your own damn pool with your own damn water. IT’s FREE! Because otherwise I’m about to start hopping from place to place and pissing in them.

kthxbye,
Antigone

Wednesday, since we were over by the old ‘hood, Ben and I decided to go to our favorite Indian place for dinner. I fell in love with Pasand when I ate there on the very first trip I made up here to San Jose to visit Ben. It might even be the reason that I ended up moving. I mean, Ben is sexy and all… but he’s no Ginger Chicken Tikka Masala. Since then we’ve taken his dad and Kandy, my dad and Cherie, my mom and Cameron, pretty much anybody visiting meant a trip to Pasand which is why I always encouraged visiting.

So as we got out of the car tired, hungry and frustrated after sitting in Urgent Care for well over and hour to be helped by a quack doctor physicians assistant so old we actually got to watch the last few whisps of hair fall from his head in our 10 minutes with him, it took us both a few seconds to realize that the simple Pasand sign had been replaced with a rather large, rather LOOK AT ME red sign that read: Bombay Garden.

Ben: What’s that Bombay Garden… Wait.. WHERE’s PASAND!?
Me: Lets just go in and eat I’m starving.
Ben: Well, lets go in and see what they have.
Me: I’m STARVING, lets just EAT here.
Ben: We’ll ask first.
Me: And then try it.
Ben: Anna!

We were “greeted” (if you can call it that) by a guy in his mid 20’s who must have just pulled himself from the nearest mirror when he saw us coming in. He looked bothered to have been pulled from basking in all his magnificent greatness and to be dealing with us plain commoners. Seriously, I slipped a little in the trail of EgoSlimeâ„¢ he left behind him.

Ben: So, is this place under new ownership or is it another restaurant all together?
EgoBoy: New ownership.
Ben: So the food is all the same?
EgoBoy: Same. Added more to the menu.

The guy couldn’t even be bothered to throw together a complete sentence with, like, verbs and adjectives or ANY RELEVANT INFORMATION. When we walked in it was instantly clear that this was NOT the same place. AT ALL. From the fancy new chairs that must have been crafted by the same people who make electric chairs, to the plasma screen TV’s playing Bollywood soap operas. The entire atmosphere felt wrong. Tight.

The food was twice as expensive for half as much that tasted half as good. They didn’t even HAVE the Ginger Chicken Tikka Masala. The menu is NOT the same, Pretty Boy. Not at all. The lamb samosas I’ve grown to love were LESS than half the size and we had to ask our waiter (who was a leftover from Pasand) for the sauce we’d ALWAYS gotten before. Not the same, Pretty Boy! Then!! When we ordered our food, we had to CHOOSE between rice or Nan. WHAT?! EVERY other Indian place I’ve EVER been to has ALWAYS included BOTH. BOTH! Now you want me to CHOOSE?! NOT THE SAME, PRETTY BOY!!

Our food was $10 more for Ben and myself than what it usually is when we have Cassidy with us and order extra rice and two more samosa’s. We finished everything in the table. When it was Pasand we’d have enough left over to feed Cassidy and myself lunch the next day.

Worst of all though I’m just SAD! I mean, if it were any other place we’d have probably walked in and enjoyed the meal. But we compared it all to what we LOVED. Maybe that wasn’t fair, but I REALLY loved Pasand. Everything about it. The man who always greeted us seemed HAPPY to see us. EXCITED that he got to share is good food with us. The food was DAMN GOOD and there was LOTS of it.

Pasand was one of the first places that really made San Jose feel like home to me. It was my favorite, a nice treat we got because we were broke back then and couldn’t afford to go out to eat every night. I have lots and lots and lots of places like that now. Lots and lots. San Jose IS home now and when I go to the town I grew up in I always feel a visitor and I can’t wait to get HOME to my familiar neighborhood and streets and restaurants and stores and friends and FAMILY. But a little part of me is mourning the loss of that first security blanket I had here.

…in the last email I sent you because I was in a hurry and knew that saying these things would not accomplish my end goal.

• Don’t tell somebody that you want to be around “genuine” people then in the next breath talk about how you wish those very same genuine people would tell others how they really feel about them. Genuine people would be, ya know, GENUINE and DO THAT ON THEIR OWN. Setting an example by speaking directly to the person you have a problem with might be a good place to start.

  Moral: If YOU were genuine, maybe you’d have genuine friends.

• Don’t assume because you spend all day every day sending people emails over and over and over and over and over means that you are their BFF. Or that because you are so incredibly gifted at kissing ass that you are ever getting the whole story. Because you aren’t. You are getting half truths and only the snippets people want you to hear. They are gving everybody else the half truths and snipped that everybody else want’s to hear.

  Moral: We are all getting bullshit.

• Don’t email people over and over and over and over. THEN! Don’t accuse one of the most decent, honest, wonderful guys I’ve ever met (other than Ben of course) of making anybody uncomfortable by the amount of email they send when YOU ARE ALWAYS THE INITIATOR OF THE EMAIL. If I had a $1 for every time somebody told me how sick they get of you and your ridiculous amounts of email I could buy your self esteem back for you.

  Moral: Trying so hard to get people to like you, only makes them like you less.

• Don’t EVER AGAIN try and tell ANY of my friends that they have an unhealthy relationship. Or trust issues. If I hear it I’ll have no qualms whatsoever showing them exactly why it is that you are the last person to be handing out relationship advise. ESPECIALLY when it come to issues of trust. Fix YOUR relationship first.

  Moral: Your glass house already has a few rock chips.

Yeah, I think that’s about it. I reserve the right to add more later though. Man, I feel better now. And really, I don’t wish you anything but the best. But I think that in order for you to embrace “the best” you need to stop seeing yourself as a victim. And that YOU are responsible for YOUR actions. It took me two years and three different counselors before one of them finally nailed that stake in my head. It’s hard, but being able to see flaws in yourself actually makes you a better person.

I’ve talked to exactly five people about this stuff. Five. I know that you think I’ve gone running my mouth to everybody but I can find MUCH better topics of conversation. Like the exact shape and size of my last bowel movement. THAT’S a better topic than you and your cry for attention and drama and campaign to be She With The Most FAKE Genuine Friends. Good luck with that. You are REALLY gonna need it.

So, Cassidy’s father called her yesterday for the first time in three months. Nice, eh? It actually IS nice because it had been six moths since he called to ask to have her for summer…. Somebody must have reminded him it was her birthday. Or, reminded him that he HAS a daughter.

While on the phone he asked when is the next time he can see her. I’ve told him no less than five times that her school has a calendar online that he can access whenever he wants to know what her scheduled days off are. I’m not about to hold his hand through that anymore. He also has the schools name, phone number, address, etc. If it means so much to you (I’m assuming it’s about as important as CALLING her is) then LOOK IT UP, asshat.

But the zinger… He asked me how far Infineon Raceway is from us. I told him 4-5 hours because that’s how long it seemed like it took Ben and I to get there when we went but after talking to Ben, he said it’s only about 2 hours away. Anyway, he asked because he “really wants to see her and he’s going to be up there racing with Patrick (See: Worlds 3rd biggest asshole) and was wondering if he would be able to see her at the track”.

Instead of thinking for a second before I spoke and trying to be dimplomatic:

Me: So you are going to drive 8 hours on the weekend of Cassidy’s birthday to go RACE with PATRICK but you can’t EVER take a day off to even come VISIT her. Or CALL HER?!

I realized right away that my foot was planted too firmly into my mouth to say anything past that so I just something about Cassidy wanting to talk to him and gave her back the phone.

SEE HER AT THE TRACK! Are you serious! I don’t know what more humorous! The fact that you think after two calls in a year that I’d actually offer to drive her there or the fact that you think you’d actually spend time with her AT THE TRACK or that you think her idea of an OMGHAPPY birthday with her dad would be to spend it AT THE TRACK! Maybe if you paid me 1% of the $20,000+ in child support you owe me I’d CONSIDER the POSSIBILITY for .12 seconds! But probably not!

I KNOW I should not let his shoddy parenting get to me. I KNOW that eventually Cassidy will realize this when she gets older and that he’s really digging his own grave with her. But there is still the small, naive hope that one day he will grow up and start to BE A DAD. Be a person she can count on. Be somebody who calls more than twice a year when a family member reminds him she exists.

But it’s NOT going to change. Racing is still more important than his daughter. His buddies are still more important than his daughter. His girlfriend is now more important than his daughter. Work is more important than his daughter. This is NOT going to change. Ever. Time to squash that naive part of me and get rid of the last of it for good.

*deep breath*

Let go. Stop expecting better things from him. Stop trying to understand why things don’t and won’t change. Let him be the father he is going to be. Let Cassidy determine the relationship she will have with him. Just. Let. Go.

Please stop shooting our children. Please stop walking into schools (the ONE place our kids should be allowed to roam and learn and grow without being scared and paranoid) and molesting, terrorizing and shooting our FUTURE.

10/02/2006: At least six killed in Amish school shooting

Three girls, all critical with gunshot wounds and ages 6 through 12, were admitted to Lancaster General Hospital, spokesman John Lines told NBC affiliate WGAL-TV.

When you walk into a classroom and shoot a SIX YEAR OLD, you are not allowed to take your own life. You aren’t allowed to take the cowards way out. How dare you.

On Friday (09/29/2006), a 15-year-old student fatally wounded his school’s principal in western Wisconsin. A drifter in Colorado Wednesday (09/27/2006) took six female high school students hostage, molested them and then shot one to death and killed himself as police closed in.

How is it that we let people walk around who are so unstable that walking into a school and killing innocent children has happened TWICE in less than a week? How do students get so infuriated or frustrated that the answer becomes walking into a school and shooting the principal?

This is our future, OUR FUTURE. How do we go about saving everybody else in the World when our own house is in such a state of disarray?

I’m not even sure what to say about this. Seven children in less than a week. Seven families. Seven moms with broken hearts and who’s CHILDREN have been stolen from them. Seven children who had all the potential in the World to grow into flourishing and productive members of society… Seven kids who could have been my own.

I’m not which emotions is stronger. Sadness by the pain so many people are going through right now? Anger at the assholes who felt the need to kill innocent children? Fear of sending my daughter to school and assuming she’s okay and the future that seems to be unfolding before her…