Saturday, December 31, 2005
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Favourite Christmas Memories
My husband's cousin's wife posted this question and I wanted to answer it, but I had too many, so I am going to post it here.
Sitting with my siblings on Christmas Eve listening to the songs on the radio and trying to figure out who would sing which part in Silent Night by the Temptations.
When I was little, the little shiver of anticipation when I heard Santa's "Ho Ho Ho" and got up the next morning and saw a HUGE piece of chocolate cake missing. I learned years later it was just my uncle coming over to get a slice (hank of cake more like it) before heading home.
Watching 24 hours of A Christmas Story - This is a recent tradition. (last year, they played it on TBS instead of TNT and I missed it and stumbled upon it the next day by mistake in the last thirty minutes. I was soooooo mad. Even though I like Sinbad as a comedian, I was still pissed at 24 hours of Jingle All The Way)
The Christmas cleanup (another childhood thing). Every Christmas we had to do a big spring cleaning style clean up. If the room wasn't clean, Santa wouldn't visit. So every year, we had to come up with innovative ways to push the trash and toys around the room without actually cleaning up. Christmas cleanup was the best form of waiting-for-christmas-day procrastination ever.
Decorating the Christmas tree - My parents would get a tree either Christmas Eve or the day before. Then we would hurry to decorate the tree. When the house was quiet, I would turn off all the lights and lay on the sofa looking at the tree. I love the peace of Christmas lights. Also, Christmas was the only time I could be in the living room without getting yelled at.
And the number one best Christmas memory is - Every year, we would wake up way to early for Santa. We would walk out into the living room, all the lights would be on, my parents would be in their room (or gone because we wouldn't have dared walk into their rooms when they had the power to send Santa on his way if we weren't good) and there would be nothing. We would go back to bed just knowing Santa had missed us and go back to sleep (one year I cried myself to sleep. I think I was 7). Then we would wake up maybe two hours later and walk out of our room and the house would be dark except for the lights coming from the Christmas tree and we would walk into a room of toys, separated on the sofas by child. {I always had a teddy bear and an easy bake oven. My last Christmas teddy bear, which I still have, was the one I got when I was a senior in highschool. That bear went everywhere with me. } We would be so awed by the difference that we would quietly go to our toys and play with them until the need for batteries on something would force us to wake our parents. Then they would patiently do all the parent things like install batteries, open plastic cases and ooo and aaahh over my easy bake creations. That was always the best, waking up two times and loving that last wake up. I don't think the magic of that has died yet.
So, if you have Christmas memories, please share and my comments box can take what you can dish out.
Sitting with my siblings on Christmas Eve listening to the songs on the radio and trying to figure out who would sing which part in Silent Night by the Temptations.
When I was little, the little shiver of anticipation when I heard Santa's "Ho Ho Ho" and got up the next morning and saw a HUGE piece of chocolate cake missing. I learned years later it was just my uncle coming over to get a slice (hank of cake more like it) before heading home.
Watching 24 hours of A Christmas Story - This is a recent tradition. (last year, they played it on TBS instead of TNT and I missed it and stumbled upon it the next day by mistake in the last thirty minutes. I was soooooo mad. Even though I like Sinbad as a comedian, I was still pissed at 24 hours of Jingle All The Way)
The Christmas cleanup (another childhood thing). Every Christmas we had to do a big spring cleaning style clean up. If the room wasn't clean, Santa wouldn't visit. So every year, we had to come up with innovative ways to push the trash and toys around the room without actually cleaning up. Christmas cleanup was the best form of waiting-for-christmas-day procrastination ever.
Decorating the Christmas tree - My parents would get a tree either Christmas Eve or the day before. Then we would hurry to decorate the tree. When the house was quiet, I would turn off all the lights and lay on the sofa looking at the tree. I love the peace of Christmas lights. Also, Christmas was the only time I could be in the living room without getting yelled at.
And the number one best Christmas memory is - Every year, we would wake up way to early for Santa. We would walk out into the living room, all the lights would be on, my parents would be in their room (or gone because we wouldn't have dared walk into their rooms when they had the power to send Santa on his way if we weren't good) and there would be nothing. We would go back to bed just knowing Santa had missed us and go back to sleep (one year I cried myself to sleep. I think I was 7). Then we would wake up maybe two hours later and walk out of our room and the house would be dark except for the lights coming from the Christmas tree and we would walk into a room of toys, separated on the sofas by child. {I always had a teddy bear and an easy bake oven. My last Christmas teddy bear, which I still have, was the one I got when I was a senior in highschool. That bear went everywhere with me. } We would be so awed by the difference that we would quietly go to our toys and play with them until the need for batteries on something would force us to wake our parents. Then they would patiently do all the parent things like install batteries, open plastic cases and ooo and aaahh over my easy bake creations. That was always the best, waking up two times and loving that last wake up. I don't think the magic of that has died yet.
So, if you have Christmas memories, please share and my comments box can take what you can dish out.
Funerals
I've always hated funerals. I hate the procession, I hate the way I can't cry like everyone else. I hate the way I'm more interested in what those who come say about the deceased than I am in the words written about them. I don't hate this because there is something wrong with me in it. I hate it because it makes me just a little different from most of the people around me. And as much as I like being different, I don't like being seen as uncaring. I still care what people think about me. A friend of mine died a few months ago and I spent a majority of his funeral writing a short story I entered into a short story contest when I was done. I didn't know where the story would go when I started writing it, but it is being rejected as we speak. I cried tears, real tears, for the person I saw in the picture, but the body in front of me wasn't him and I couldn't mourn that.
What I like are wakes. I like the get together where the people talk about who that person was to them. I like the reminder of life more than the presense of death. I like the life that words give to a person. I like the thoughts, when the person is loved, that move through the minds, the genuine smiles, the moved tears. I love the stories that give credence to a life well lived.
The circumstances of death are not always pleasant. Cancer, AIDS, suicide, murder, old age. The presence of death is always lurking and though I don't dislike him, nor do I fear him, I certainly don't like to be around him. Funerals are like constantly being around him and feeling, even if only for a moment, that he has won. I like wakes because they give you the hope that, despite it all, death never gets to win.
What I like are wakes. I like the get together where the people talk about who that person was to them. I like the reminder of life more than the presense of death. I like the life that words give to a person. I like the thoughts, when the person is loved, that move through the minds, the genuine smiles, the moved tears. I love the stories that give credence to a life well lived.
The circumstances of death are not always pleasant. Cancer, AIDS, suicide, murder, old age. The presence of death is always lurking and though I don't dislike him, nor do I fear him, I certainly don't like to be around him. Funerals are like constantly being around him and feeling, even if only for a moment, that he has won. I like wakes because they give you the hope that, despite it all, death never gets to win.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Merry Christmas
My husband hates people (bear with me). Well, he doesn't care if people like him. As a result, he does nothing at all to please others. He is wonderful to me because I am the love of his life. I like people. I want people to like me. I spent the six months we were engaged and the first half of our first year married (one full year) trying to convince people to love my husband as much as I do. He is abrupt and can come off as uncaring. However, anyone who takes the time will realize he's great and he will grow to like them... as long as they are not silly, empty headed twits. You take him as he is or not at all because he's not going to change for you. You can either love him or hate him, but it's completely up to you. When I realized this, I stopped trying to "get" people to like him, just let the chips fall as they may, because if he could handle it, then doggone it, I could too.
God is similar to my husband in some respects. He doesn't care how you view him, though he took the time to write down the type of person he is. He has given you free will and ultimate choice, yet he tells you the end result of those choices. He gives you the option to live your life any way you want... it's just that one way is life and the other way is death. I'm okay with letting God decide which is which. Many people look at God as abrupt and want to dislike him, to doubt that he is any good and to treat him the way they perceive he is treating them. But many who get to know him, who take the time to sort through the lies and their own personal feelings for or against him, find that he is either a kind "master" or a harsh "taskmaker" (or both) and then they choose to follow him anyway. Don't ask me why I did, but it's a long boring story if you do.
As I look at the debate between those who choose to accept Christ, those who accept the Christian religion, those who choose another religion, and those who choose nothing, we truly do see through a glass darkly. All of us are stumbling in the dark towards we don't know what. All of our teaching are clothed in mysteries. How can you be like the water, flowing around the rocks? How can you be totally sold out to Christ? Everything I believe is on faith, backed by my experiences following Christ, my conversations with him, my struggles with him. Now I see through a glass darkly, but then face to face. Then I will know as I am known. I don't need to keep defending God. Take him or leave him as he is. I don't need to keep proving to people how much I love him, how much he is in my life, because the people I need to prove him to, the people I defend him to, are the people who care the least about the actuality of God and are more intent on proving their rightness. If you can read the story of David in the old testament and reconcile his life with what God says of him, then you already know more about God than I can ever explain to you. And you are the kind of person I want to get to know better.
So this is for anyone who has anything to say about either my husband or God, even though you may never read this post. They are both awesome and the best things that have ever happened to me. And I wouldn't have one without the other, nor could I have understood one without the other. And that is the biggest blessing in my life, for which I thank Christ every day.
Yes, I know, strange, but it needed to be said.
God is similar to my husband in some respects. He doesn't care how you view him, though he took the time to write down the type of person he is. He has given you free will and ultimate choice, yet he tells you the end result of those choices. He gives you the option to live your life any way you want... it's just that one way is life and the other way is death. I'm okay with letting God decide which is which. Many people look at God as abrupt and want to dislike him, to doubt that he is any good and to treat him the way they perceive he is treating them. But many who get to know him, who take the time to sort through the lies and their own personal feelings for or against him, find that he is either a kind "master" or a harsh "taskmaker" (or both) and then they choose to follow him anyway. Don't ask me why I did, but it's a long boring story if you do.
As I look at the debate between those who choose to accept Christ, those who accept the Christian religion, those who choose another religion, and those who choose nothing, we truly do see through a glass darkly. All of us are stumbling in the dark towards we don't know what. All of our teaching are clothed in mysteries. How can you be like the water, flowing around the rocks? How can you be totally sold out to Christ? Everything I believe is on faith, backed by my experiences following Christ, my conversations with him, my struggles with him. Now I see through a glass darkly, but then face to face. Then I will know as I am known. I don't need to keep defending God. Take him or leave him as he is. I don't need to keep proving to people how much I love him, how much he is in my life, because the people I need to prove him to, the people I defend him to, are the people who care the least about the actuality of God and are more intent on proving their rightness. If you can read the story of David in the old testament and reconcile his life with what God says of him, then you already know more about God than I can ever explain to you. And you are the kind of person I want to get to know better.
So this is for anyone who has anything to say about either my husband or God, even though you may never read this post. They are both awesome and the best things that have ever happened to me. And I wouldn't have one without the other, nor could I have understood one without the other. And that is the biggest blessing in my life, for which I thank Christ every day.
Yes, I know, strange, but it needed to be said.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
In other weird and slightly gross news...
I've had two dreams today about pulling vast quantities of hair out of a cavity in my back tooth. Like, enough hair to wig several people. I remember wondering why there was so much hair. I didn't seem to think it was weird that it was coming out of my tooth. It was like when you pull hair from a drain and theres hair and alot of much with it. In the dream, I think other people want to kill me. I'm not sure if it is because of the hair or before the hair, but if I were them, it would be because of. Well, they wanted to kill someone and I'm not sure why I was with them... but some killing was about to be going on. I just remember the hair. Lots of it. From my tooth. gross.
I wonder what it means.
I wonder what it means.
In other news...
December marks the third year of blogging for me. Shortly before Christmas three years ago, I entered this world of blogging and except for two times (where I moved from blog to blog) I've never regretted it. I appreciate the comments, the times you've made me laugh, making new internet friends and learning about myself and other... myself in relation to others.
I made a remark to someone that 2005 would be the year of me. I've joked about it so much this year and realized how selfish I am. I don't now what 2006 will bring, but I look forward to the adventure. For some reason, I've been thinking that next year will be 2007. I don't know what that means, but I hope I can keep it straight. This year has gone by so fast. It's hard to believe how much has happened in it. My first year of marriage, sending out my first piece of writing, my new position at the milk and cookie store, making new friends (in real life), really being in love through the thick and thin for the first time in my life and how different that feels that anything else I've ever experienced. Even losing relationships (although that was more 2004). This year has been awesome. So good that I'm afraid of the other shoe... you know, the one you're always waiting for to drop. Maybe that will be 2006. Oh, but I've enjoyed this blessing of a year. I hope you have enjoyed your year and if not, I pray next year will be much better.
I made a remark to someone that 2005 would be the year of me. I've joked about it so much this year and realized how selfish I am. I don't now what 2006 will bring, but I look forward to the adventure. For some reason, I've been thinking that next year will be 2007. I don't know what that means, but I hope I can keep it straight. This year has gone by so fast. It's hard to believe how much has happened in it. My first year of marriage, sending out my first piece of writing, my new position at the milk and cookie store, making new friends (in real life), really being in love through the thick and thin for the first time in my life and how different that feels that anything else I've ever experienced. Even losing relationships (although that was more 2004). This year has been awesome. So good that I'm afraid of the other shoe... you know, the one you're always waiting for to drop. Maybe that will be 2006. Oh, but I've enjoyed this blessing of a year. I hope you have enjoyed your year and if not, I pray next year will be much better.
New Things To Come
I'm in general excitement mode lately. We've been working on something that is exactly what I want to do and all of the sleepiness and tiredness will mean something in the end for all of us. I know I'm being a bit cryptic, but I don't want to say any more until there is more to show.
In writing news, I'm writing more than ever. I will hear back about my short story relatively soon, but I am sure it isn't going to win. That's okay. I will keep writing and entering contests so that eventually, I will get something published. One day, someone will pay me to write and I hope it's next year.
I can't believe it's almost Christmas. It feels like any other month to us, except with more traffic and pretty lights everywhere. We didn't decorate this year because I'm still married to a Scrooge, but it was also a bit of a relief to not decorate AND to not have to get rid of a tree this year. Last year's tree is still rotting in the woods. You know they have those weekends after the new year where you take your tree in to be made into mulch. Well, we missed that weekend and when we carried the tree out into the woods, we looked like we were dumping a body.
I wanted to do a New Year's Eve party, but I can't this year. I have, however, invited my friends to one next year because the conditions for me being able to have a party according to Scrooge will in place. I'm so excited. I don't know how to act. All next year will be party planning for New Year's Eve. I may even be able to have a Christmas party... but I did promise that I would only have one a year.
Right now, I'm just procrastinating. So I will let you continue to surf the internet while I go back to writing.
In writing news, I'm writing more than ever. I will hear back about my short story relatively soon, but I am sure it isn't going to win. That's okay. I will keep writing and entering contests so that eventually, I will get something published. One day, someone will pay me to write and I hope it's next year.
I can't believe it's almost Christmas. It feels like any other month to us, except with more traffic and pretty lights everywhere. We didn't decorate this year because I'm still married to a Scrooge, but it was also a bit of a relief to not decorate AND to not have to get rid of a tree this year. Last year's tree is still rotting in the woods. You know they have those weekends after the new year where you take your tree in to be made into mulch. Well, we missed that weekend and when we carried the tree out into the woods, we looked like we were dumping a body.
I wanted to do a New Year's Eve party, but I can't this year. I have, however, invited my friends to one next year because the conditions for me being able to have a party according to Scrooge will in place. I'm so excited. I don't know how to act. All next year will be party planning for New Year's Eve. I may even be able to have a Christmas party... but I did promise that I would only have one a year.
Right now, I'm just procrastinating. So I will let you continue to surf the internet while I go back to writing.
Friday, December 09, 2005
The Chronicles of Narnia
How can a film be very good and just alright at the same time?
When watching a movie, if the blue (or green) screen is evident, if most of the acting is a bit over the top, if the plot is plodding at points, and if the director didn't take the time to help us see the characters connect while using techniques as if he were just taught them at film school, you could say a movie is just alright.
All this is true about The Chronicles of Narnia. I could hear my husband, who has much production experience, go crazy with muttering everytime the production was less than desired. The technical aspects of the movie are just so-so. He started with Mr. Tumnus' ears and didn't stop until the movie was done. Up until then, he was just bored. While the rest of us gasped a little when we saw poor Tumnus turned to stone, he laughed at the fake stone replication of said Tumnus. I could understand why he laughed, but the point was that he was stone.
But if that same movie, with all its faults, were to make you hold your breath with anticipation when the Pevensie children finally are all in Narnia, shiver to your bones in awe with the first look at Aslan or jump in your seat when he roared, or cry like a baby when you know (because you've read the books many times over) by his look that he has given himself to the White Witch, then I have to say it is a triumph. There were parts from which I expected more, like Aslan's scene at the Stone Table. I wish they had taken the time to show people who hadn't grown up with the books why Susan and Lucy would spend all night crying over a dead lion. But all in all, the moments that moved me in the story are the moments that moved me in the movie.
The best parts of the movie was Lucy and TheWhite Witch. Lucy was adorable, honorable, and made you believe that a rag-tag bunch of kids escaping WWII could really help lead Narnia out of forever winter. The White Witch was evil, to her core. She was so perfectly bad, pretending to be good to poor Edmund so that she could catch all four humans, kill them, and gain true control over Narnia, that you knew it really would take someone like Aslan to set her straight.
"And now a very curious thing happened. None of the children knew who Aslan was any more than you do; but the moment the Beaver had spoken these words everyone felt quite different. Perhaps it has sometimes happened to you in a dream that someone says something which you don't understand but in the dream it feels as if it has some enormous meaning - either a terrifying one which turns the whole dream into a nightmare or else a lovely meaning too lovely to put into words, which makes the dream so beautiful that you remember it all your life and are always wishing you could get into that dream again. It was like that now. At the name of Aslan each one fo the children felt something jump in its inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer." The Chronicle of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe; A Day with the Beavers.
I hadn't heard of The Chronicles of Narnia until I saw a BBC production of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. I loved the story so much, some indefinable quality I don't know, that I immediately went about finding, and reading, all the books. I have looked so forward to seeing Aslan, Aslan done right, that I would forgive this movie anything if only it did him right. It did him right.
When watching a movie, if the blue (or green) screen is evident, if most of the acting is a bit over the top, if the plot is plodding at points, and if the director didn't take the time to help us see the characters connect while using techniques as if he were just taught them at film school, you could say a movie is just alright.
All this is true about The Chronicles of Narnia. I could hear my husband, who has much production experience, go crazy with muttering everytime the production was less than desired. The technical aspects of the movie are just so-so. He started with Mr. Tumnus' ears and didn't stop until the movie was done. Up until then, he was just bored. While the rest of us gasped a little when we saw poor Tumnus turned to stone, he laughed at the fake stone replication of said Tumnus. I could understand why he laughed, but the point was that he was stone.
But if that same movie, with all its faults, were to make you hold your breath with anticipation when the Pevensie children finally are all in Narnia, shiver to your bones in awe with the first look at Aslan or jump in your seat when he roared, or cry like a baby when you know (because you've read the books many times over) by his look that he has given himself to the White Witch, then I have to say it is a triumph. There were parts from which I expected more, like Aslan's scene at the Stone Table. I wish they had taken the time to show people who hadn't grown up with the books why Susan and Lucy would spend all night crying over a dead lion. But all in all, the moments that moved me in the story are the moments that moved me in the movie.
The best parts of the movie was Lucy and TheWhite Witch. Lucy was adorable, honorable, and made you believe that a rag-tag bunch of kids escaping WWII could really help lead Narnia out of forever winter. The White Witch was evil, to her core. She was so perfectly bad, pretending to be good to poor Edmund so that she could catch all four humans, kill them, and gain true control over Narnia, that you knew it really would take someone like Aslan to set her straight.
"And now a very curious thing happened. None of the children knew who Aslan was any more than you do; but the moment the Beaver had spoken these words everyone felt quite different. Perhaps it has sometimes happened to you in a dream that someone says something which you don't understand but in the dream it feels as if it has some enormous meaning - either a terrifying one which turns the whole dream into a nightmare or else a lovely meaning too lovely to put into words, which makes the dream so beautiful that you remember it all your life and are always wishing you could get into that dream again. It was like that now. At the name of Aslan each one fo the children felt something jump in its inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer." The Chronicle of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe; A Day with the Beavers.
I hadn't heard of The Chronicles of Narnia until I saw a BBC production of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. I loved the story so much, some indefinable quality I don't know, that I immediately went about finding, and reading, all the books. I have looked so forward to seeing Aslan, Aslan done right, that I would forgive this movie anything if only it did him right. It did him right.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Europe in the Spring
I took 25 really hard. It started out well enough with a friend wishing me a happy quarter of a centery, but it seemed to go progressively downhill. Love life, friendships, spiritual journey, all seemed to go down a dirt road. In the middle of a thunderstorm. That threatened to turn into a flood. It was a horrible year. I realized that soon, another milestone year would happen and if time was on my side the same way it had been, it would be coming sooner than I wanted.
I wanted to be prepared for 30. I didn't want to dread it. I was going to be ready, going to blindside old age with preparedness. I was going to go to Europe. I would start saving money, look and listen out for deals, try to figure out the best time to go, the least of the touristy times where things were open, but not alot of people were around. It was a grand plan and I was going to go through with it. Well, once I figured out where I was going to move, and once I changed jobs, and, and, and.... I decided to move to California.
Then, This Girl and The Honey, sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes love, then comes marriage. That's it. No baby carriage and no Europe. Because in California, I don't find a steady job. I move back home and instead of carrying on footloose and fancy free, I get myself hitched so instead of being married at 33 like I expected, I get married at 28. Instead of going to Europe, I'll almost be 2 years married. Europe never stood a chance against The Honey.
Okay, 30, give me your best shot. I'm ready for you and I've got backup. I do, however, reserve the right to celebrate the Second Annual Twenty-Ninth Birthday.
I wanted to be prepared for 30. I didn't want to dread it. I was going to be ready, going to blindside old age with preparedness. I was going to go to Europe. I would start saving money, look and listen out for deals, try to figure out the best time to go, the least of the touristy times where things were open, but not alot of people were around. It was a grand plan and I was going to go through with it. Well, once I figured out where I was going to move, and once I changed jobs, and, and, and.... I decided to move to California.
Then, This Girl and The Honey, sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes love, then comes marriage. That's it. No baby carriage and no Europe. Because in California, I don't find a steady job. I move back home and instead of carrying on footloose and fancy free, I get myself hitched so instead of being married at 33 like I expected, I get married at 28. Instead of going to Europe, I'll almost be 2 years married. Europe never stood a chance against The Honey.
Okay, 30, give me your best shot. I'm ready for you and I've got backup. I do, however, reserve the right to celebrate the Second Annual Twenty-Ninth Birthday.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Procrastinating
Do you remember when you were little and you thought about the year 2000 and how far away it was? I remember when I was 12 years old, I realized that I was 12 years away from the year 2000. Since I don't remember anything until the age of 5 (except for random flashes from the "before time") That time seemed really slow to me. I couldn't imagine getting to 12 years from then and what I would be like. I imagined being old. Then I thought about how I would be even older 6 years later when I reached 30. My friends and I couldn't imagine being thirty, living that long... It's amazing what time is like to a kid compared to an adult.
I'm in my last 20. 29 years, 11 months, and 4 days old. In 27 days, I will require love and lots of it to get me through the day. I may even work so I don't have to think about it. I don't dread it. I look forward to it. I just wish I was going to go to Europe too.
And to The Honey. I'm not your "old lady", I'm your "special ladyfriend".
I'm in my last 20. 29 years, 11 months, and 4 days old. In 27 days, I will require love and lots of it to get me through the day. I may even work so I don't have to think about it. I don't dread it. I look forward to it. I just wish I was going to go to Europe too.
And to The Honey. I'm not your "old lady", I'm your "special ladyfriend".
Getting Old
In less than a month, I will be thirty.
*sigh*
If there is anyone reading who is older than me (and there must be a few) please don't give me your words about me still being young, or that thirty is nothing, or any other platitude that would be designed to make me feel better (or heaven forbid, worse). Let me wallow in my self pity.
Thank you.
*sigh*
If there is anyone reading who is older than me (and there must be a few) please don't give me your words about me still being young, or that thirty is nothing, or any other platitude that would be designed to make me feel better (or heaven forbid, worse). Let me wallow in my self pity.
Thank you.
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