"Just a Small Town Girl, Livin' in a Lonely World"

Well, I'd be lying if I said I felt good today, but I had a blast yesterday during my brief foray into mainstream society, if you can call my friends mainstream, and I certainly wouldn't.

The day started with me trying in vain the change my eyebrow ring to a captive bead ring, but I couldn't get the damn bead in. I should probably ask my sister how she managed to do it back when she had her eyebrow pierced. Yes, friends of mine, my sister once had her eyebrow pierced. When I couldn't get the hoop in, I opted for a funky curly ring.

I donned a cute dress, tights, and my Mary Janes, and got all dolled up for the day. I even wore make-up! This was a huge deal for me, as I can count on one hand the number of times I've worn something other than sweats and pajamas over the past five months.

First stop: Kari's baby shower. When I wheeld into the house, I squealed with delight when I saw not only my Little Sister Kari, cute as a button, and Melissa, who we later discovered is my Great-Grand Little, but also Laurie, my adopted little. At the baby shower, I totally dominated baby games! It came with the awesome joy of giving Kari more baby gifts! I enjoyed reading the backs of the packages in my game show host voice.

After the shower, it was time to trek from Murfreesboro to the Old Hickory Country Club in the Hermitage area. I wheeled next to Amber for the ceremony. Amber's hair had grown out and was totally cute. I really think she could pull off just about any hair style. I also finally got to meet Cox's girlfriend Alana, who is super cool. It was a lovely reunion with Patrick, Loren, Lindsey, Amber, Cox, Alana, JR, Alan, Nick, Kristin, and Lonnie - and, of course, the happy couple whom I will hereafter refer to as Amanderson - Manderson and Amanda. If I forgot anybody, I'm sorry, but, as I'm sure you noticed, I was on a LOT of drugs.

At the reception, we had a great time. The food was really good, and the booze was free! Props to Amanda's parents for footing the bill for the gorgeous wedding. Cox helped me wheelchair dance to "Build Me up Buttercup" and Patrick wheeled me to the dance floor during "Thriller," balancing me on my back two wheels. What a blast! I also did my pop-and-lock style arm ripple, and shook what I could like a Polaroid picture during "Hey ya."

However, what might be the most memorable part was the combination of belting/screaming "Don't Stop Believin,'" which I have now decided should be played at every wedding. We all stood in a circle - except for yours truly, of course, as I cannot stand - and if our goal was to be as loud as possible, we certainly succeeded.

I got home around 10 last night and woke up around 4 a.m., getting a healthy seven hours of sleep. No, my math is not wrong. The time changed last night. I got more sleep, and those of you boozing it up afterward got an extra hour of drinking time. Now, here I am, typing, in an unbelievable amount of pain, which I expected. I was tempted to leave early, but as I told Patrick, I'd still be hurting if I went home, and I wanted to stay with everyone as long as possible, because who knows when I'll see everyone again. I'm bummed I didn't make it to the post-wedding festivities, but I really needed to get out of the chair and lie down.

All in all, it was great fun. Congrats to Amanderson, who were positively lovely. Amanda was gorgeous, and she was also entertaining during the ceremony. They looked really relaxed, like they were enjoying themselves. It's quite refreshing because so many weddings are so tense.

Today's agenda, or lack thereof, is uneventful compared to yesterday. Right now, I'm just trying to recuperate.

"What's My Age Again?"

I was doing my civic duty of e-mailing my Congressman, Bart Gordon, and for some reason, I listed my age as 26. I noticed it and changed it, but I'm a bit disturbed that I forgot how old I was. I'm also having trouble counting. I'm going to be sure to mention this to my awesome doctor, because hopefully this side effect is temporary, as I've read. Otherwise, we've got a problem.

Socialism Is Not a Four-Letter Word ... But Bank Is

The latest attempt to get us all running for the hills seems to be a feather in McCarthy's cap. Didn't we learn our lesson last time? I wasn't even born yet, and I still got it. What is this, Red Scare Part Pi? Or is throwing around the word "socialism" all willy nilly the new black? I thought Obama was the new black. What is it, people? Are we supposed to be scared of Obama because he's black or red? I'm going to remain unaffraid. After all, it is Halloween time. I'm saving all of my fear for zombies and goblins.

Why are people so afraid of the word socialism? I get the negative connotation from the USSR and the Cuban Missile Crisis and all that, but it's over now. Actually, it was over a while ago. Please, stop me before I break out into, "We Didn't Start the Fire."

All kidding aside, socialism isn't all bad. Actually, it's quite good, when applied correctly. Let's break it down:

social: a good word with a good connotation. Social services aren't scary; school socials aren't scary; Social Security is a little scary, but that's mainly the security part.

ism: a suffix, and no suffix is scary. Now, if it were called "socialdeathism" I could see where the fear factor comes into play, but lots of isms are just dandy, including the one and only capitalism, not to mention monotheism.

socialism: stop you Commies!

I just don't get it.

Am I the only here who finds it ironic that we barely had time to breathe once the $700 billion bailout was passed before we started hearing about how scary socialism is? I'm concerned about this precedent - our government being able to socialize what it wants to socialize, which inevitably will be who is padding the pockets of Capitol Hill.

This brings me to McCain wanting to buy housing loans. This is ludicrous. I know this was a terrible thing, but I'm an intelligent person, and as an intelligent person, as badly as I want a Lamborghini, I'm not going to buy one because I can't afford it. I don't care if someone tells me I can. I know I can't, so I'm not buying a Lamborghini, and I automatically distrust anyone thinking I even qualify to buy one in the first place.

When it came time to buy my car, I bought a reliable one that was going to last at least as long as I have to make the payments. Oh, how I love my affordable Nissan Sentra. I also understand that making such a purchase, I take a risk (in this case, an assumption) of this item losing value over the time that I own it. I certainly don't think the government should buy my car loan and then refinance my car just because it's worth less now that I wanted it to be, or because I took a payment that I knew I couldn't afford.

We need to do more than just bailouts. We need to regulate and educate. I've never bought a house before. Odds are, when it's time to buy one, I'm not going to know what to expect. Wouldn't it be nice if, someone along the lines of my 18 years of schooling, someone might have mentioned some of these key life lessons? I thank my lucky stars for all of the insurance classes I took. At least I know a thing or two about estate planning, car insurance, homeowner's insurance, and the like.

I know this is a huge clusterfuck. I know my stock is losing value everyday, and I'm losing money everyday. Stock is an investment. I took a risk. The consequences are mine and mine alone. You'd think right-wingers would share my viewpoint about this, seeing as how it's always them versus the big bad government. I guess things change when it's their money and livelihood at stake.

My Fellow Tennesseans, Stop Acting Like Douchebags

While watching The Colbert Report tonight, I learned that an East Tennessee man named his daughter Sarah McCain Palin Ciptak. As if this isn't asinine enough, he did it without discussing it with his wife. You know, the woman who gave birth to the kid! He claims he did it because he can't contribute to the campaign financially. He actually wasn't going to name the damn kid John McCain, but apparently he had enough sense not to do that.

I'm a big supporter of the Obama/Biden ticket, but I'm not going to go around naming children after them. Maybe a fish or something, if I really felt like it, but certainly not a child. My political views will never be more important than my children. And for those wanting to make the abortion argument, I'll go ahead and stop you. Pro-choice does not mean pro-abortion, much like pro-life does not mean pro-stay-of-execution. OK, bad example, but you get the point I'm making.

I didn't think anything could top the baby story, but then I read about a thwarted attempt to kill Obama. The culprits? Two neo-Nazi skinheads who were arrested in Bells, Tenn. Apparently, these jackasses (I've never met them, but I'm OK labeling them) had a plan to kill 88 people, Obama being the final target. And they had wardrobe plans: white tuxedos and tophats. I guess that's in case we didn't immediately get the obvious reason why two white supremecists would want to kill a black man.

So, all snarky jokes aside, I'm actually going to make a point here.

STOP THE FEAR-MONGERING!

Seriously. This is getting out of control. I realize most people who are voting Republican actually believe in John McCain. Good. That's why you vote. I don't agree with you, but I still think you should vote. I don't think all Republicans are racists, and I don't think all McCain supporters are racists.

However, I do think the Republican Party has fallen by the wayside in this election, reverting to the fear tactic a few too many times. And I have to say I was glad when John McCain finally stood up and told those people at his rally that Obama is a good guy, and people don't have to be afraid of him. Should it have come as a response to a question from the audience? No, he should've started the rally with it. Both he and Palin should have stated at the beginning of each rally, after that first cry of "kill him," that such remarks do not reflect what the party stands for.

The point is, we shouldn't have to be telling people this. And I'm sure people across the board are going to be up in arms over this. Now, before you start reading to much into this, no, I'm not insinuating that GOP rallies have anything to do with this attempt. Obviously, these guys were going to plan something regardless of what else was said.

And keeping along those lines, anyone who says Obama is going to get assassinated if he is elected is just narrow-minded and uninformed. Sure, there may be more threats, or, at least, threats from different groups. But the President of the United States is granted the same Secret Service protecting regardless of race, and I have faith that the men in women who protected Bush, Clinton, Bush, Reagan, Carter, and Ford will do the same for the next President.

It's time we, as a country, just took a deep breath and relaxed a little. The election is next week. If you are really passionate about a candidate, do what I do and volunteer. When I call people for Obama, I certainly don't say anything negative about John McCain or Sarah Palin. I don't insinuate that we all need to duck and cover if they win. I don't even mention them. I'm quite certain that in the 145 calls I've made already, I haven't even said either of their names. And I doubt I'm going to say either of their names in any of the calls I'm going to make this week, unless I happen upon someone who doesn't know who is running for President. That's what campaigning should be.

A Few Things That Are Pissing Me Off: Republican Edition

I've been camped out in bed for months now, so chances are, if it's on TV, I've seen it. All of this campaigning has really got me thinking, which, of course, means I'm voting Obama/Biden. The McCain campaign has gone from bad to worse, and instead of opting to bow out gracefully, he's going to end up being dragged away kicking and screaming.

Let's start with Joe the Plumber, a man who is neither a Joe nor a (licensed) plumber. McCain is staking his campaign on this man he has admittedly never met. This latest batch of ads has a barrage of people saying, "I'm Joe the Plumber." No, you are not! Joe the Plumber isn't even Joe the Plumber! You're Rita the Republican or Peter the Pro-Lifer. All of this is reminiscent of those "I am Tiger Woods" commercials. The difference is, people want to be Tiger Woods. He's a role model, a public figure, a successful athlete. He's not some schmuck who owes back taxes and got dragged into the campaign against his will. McCain is hoping we will just ignore this, I guess, and keep buying into this false everyday hero nonsense. He might as well start harping about Puff the Magic Dragon. It sure sounds like someone in the McCain camp did just that.

Moving on, let's address McCain's friends. According to McCain, anyone who owns a television is his friend. I like to call things of this nature "security phrases" - things we say repeatedly, usually without realizing it, in order to reassure ourselves and return to our comfort zones. I know, Barack has one, too, but didn't you read the title? This is the Republican edition. I'll get into the Democrats, later, because we've got issues, too. When McCain doesn't know what he's saying, or when he's afraid that just saying it is going to sound, well, idiotic, he throws in "my friends." I guess he wants to elicit a response along the lines of, "Awww, McCain is my friend! Who cares what he stands for? He's my friend!" I've got news for you - McCain is not your friend. He's a politician. He's playing the game, trying to get votes, just like anyone else who's ever run for President.

Now I'd like to talk about taxes and spending, two things Republicans love talking about. I don't know who can be dumb enough to think that, in the current disaster that is our economy, we can keep going at our current rate without raising taxes. We're going to have to cut spending, and if we can't cut enough of it, get out your checkbooks, folks, it's time to ante up. If you don't want to pay taxes, you're living in the wrong country. Taxes pay for all those things we take for granted, like roads, police officers, fire departments, and other such service we've become so accustomed to having. If we didn't have taxes, we'd have no one to uphold all those laws we like to pass, and we'd have no one to pass them. Think of it as a giant homeowners' association or a Sam's Club. You've got to pay your membership fees to enjoy the perks. I suppose if you want to forgo police officers and just hope civil unrest doesn't happen, maybe we can discuss this tax issue again. Until then, it's time to start acting like an adult. You can't always get what you want, but you shouldn't be bitching for getting what you need.

Finally, I'm going to spend a few minutes on Palin. Granted, there could be a whole blog about this, so I'm only going to hit the highlights. First, sorry GOP, but I don't vote for a candidate because of gender, and neither will Hillary supporters. That ship has sailed. We've had eight years of dealing with a complete imbecile in the White House, and we aren't going to pass the torch to another administration that doesn't have even the slightest chance of not completely running this country further into the ground.

Running Palin on the notion that "she's just like me" is stupid. For starters, Palin is nothing like me, other than perhaps we have the same natural hair color, and we are both female, but she is far from a feminist. She sets women back decades with her complete incompetence. Who can't name a newspaper she reads daily? Who goes into an interview without having the slightest clue what the Bush Doctrine is? Who accepts a position for a job when she doesn't even know what that job is, which she said back in July.

Second, even if she were just like me, that certainly doesn't qualify her to be Vice President or President. I want someone better than me, and I'm certainly not the bottom of the genetic barrel. I want an active progressive, someone who isn't afraid to stand up for what is unpopular when it is right. I want someone with a terminal degree, or at least a couple of degrees. I want someone respected by more than just the state that elected her, and I want someone willing to talk about more than just that state. I want someone who keeps up-to-date on world affairs. I want a leader, not a power-hungry governor who uses her special needs child to get votes. That is shameful. She is shameful, and it's time we sent a clear message that to be President of this country, you need to be a little more qualified than Palin or Joe the Plumber.

That's all for this edition of "A Few Things That Are Pissing Me Off." Stay tuned for more - I'm sure I'll think of something.

Socialism 1, Capitalism 0

Here I am, laid up in bed as usual, passing the time by watching On Demand on my new cable! It helps to break up the monotony. I'm also making good progress on my Christmas ornaments.

My disability has been denied, and I have to appeal it, which is all OK except that if they deny my appeal, I lose my job, and I won't even be able to blame that on the Bush Administration. What a sad day for me! I'm sure they'll approve it because I've told them I have two doctor appointments this week, one of them being the Vanderbilt Pain Clinic, so I'm confident they will provide documentation that I'm a bedridden medical mystery.

So the bailout passed, despite my pleading e-mail to Bart Gordon begging him not to vote for it. I can't even begin to describe how much this sickens me. I have my own debt, thank you very much, and I've worked hard to find a way to pay it off. I certainly am not equipped to pay for someone else's debt, and I certainly don't think the Wall Street idiots who created this debacle should get a check to reward their incompetence. This is capitalism, and as much as I find it flawed, this is the point: businesses that don't fit the needs of the consumers go under. Adapt, or shut down.

Speaking of the evils of capitalism, when are we going to socialize health care? Come on, people, I have medical bills out the ass. My first ER visit was nearly $8000! I have insurance, so my portion is considerably less, but it's still more than I have when I'm not able to work. Sigh.

Here are my thoughts on the VP debate: Was Palin running for Homecoming Queen? Who winks four times in a debate on serious issues? She didn't even answer the questions! I'm not surprised. As for Biden, I want to have his babies.

That is all for now. I'll update this more now that I have Internet!

OK, I'm Drawing the Line on Palin and Republicans

Seriously, people, what the fuck? That's all I can think to say. I watched the Palin interview yesterday, and it was the most amateur, frightening thing ever. So I just have to rant about this because if I keep it all inside my head will explode.

You can see Russia from parts of Alaska?! Who the hell cares?! That doesn't qualify you to HAVE THE NUCLEAR LAUNCH CODES, or, as Palin would say, NUCULAR launch codes. You know who else pronounces it that way? Homer Simpson!

Ever since McCain announced his running mate, I was apalled, and not just because I'm so liberal I'm almost a socialist, but because I'm a woman. I am an intelligent woman, and I am shocked (although I shouldn't be) that Republicans, whom I don't hold in high regard as a group to begin with, would stoop to this level as to nominate a practially fascist woman in hopes that the rest of us are so utterly stupid that we're going to vote for an unqualified moron because she's a woman, too.

I'd like to say that I have complete and total respect for women, or men for that matter, who devote their time to raising a family. However, when you're gunning for the second highest position of power in the nation, running as a "hockey mom" is ridiculous. A "hockey mom" can't be VP, and it has nothing to do with her gender or the number of kids she's had. It has everything to do with thinking that marketing yourself as a "hockey mom" is going to get you votes and make you appear credible.

Palin is so far out of her league that the interview was painful to watch. I had to keep pausing it to go on a tangent rant about how ridiculous the whole thing is. And I am making a pledge, right here for everyone to see: If we lose the White House and Congress this November, I'm out. Fuck this place, I'm going to Canada or Europe. I am not going to sit idly by while my freedoms are slowly chiseled away until all that's left is a statue that resembles a CEO bathing is his own riches, stepping on the heads of anyone around him and having the nerve to call it gumption.

There is a good chance that, if elected, Dick Cheney will not survive his first term, and that isn't even taking into account the quick aging and stress that comes with being POTUS. So I ask you, why in the hell would you want this woman to be President? It would be a huge setback for women, because she would just fuck it up, and then women wouldn't have a shot at the White House for 100 years.

I'm also tired of hearing this nonsense of liberals being snobs and elitists. Did you sleep through history? Do you know who founded this country? Let me give you a quick refresher: It was the wealthy, rich men! They were the snobby elitists of their time. Hell, they thought only they should be able to vote. But they did come up with a few good things, like the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights. And who has the nerve to call a man raised by a single mom an elitist just because he doesn't buy into your warped ideology?

Republicans are elitist, too. They think the upper 1% shouldn't have to have to pitch in a little bit extra when April 15 rolls around. They think corporations should have carte blanche. They love money so much I'm surprised there isn't an altar they go to every week just for the purpose of reveling in the idea of riches. They think anyone who opposes the war is unpatriotic and does not support the troops. Hell, I support the troops so much I want them to come home to their wives and children before one more becomes the victim or a roadside bomb. That's something you don't get over. Wrapping your elitism in a flag and calling it patriotism is the equivalent of me putting on a Colts jersey and saying I'm Peyton Manning - it doesn't fool anyone.

Back to Palin now. I almost feel sorry for this woman. McCain did her a great disservice by asking her to run without even properly vetting her first. Watching the interview, it was clear to me that no one even bothered to prep this woman. Sit up straight. Know the Bush Doctrine. When you're going to claim you're ready to be President, you might want to pick up a newspaper that was published in the last 7 years so you don't come across as a complete moron.

Someone needs to at least give this former beauty queen a refresher course in posture, and I don't mean walking around in heels with a book on your head. Just sit/stand up straight. It's not that hard. Hopefully, one of these campaign masterminds is at least going to give her a few lines that aren't so obviously forced into her brain before the debates, and maybe they should mention that repeating the same thing over and over just lets everyone know that no one gave you any other response to that question.

If Palin doesn't get her act together before the debates, it's going to be like shooting fish in a barrel. Or wolves from a plane.

I've Learned Something New

I saw my Vanderbilt doctor today, who told me something I'd never heard before: endometriosis can be clear. What?! This explains so much. He referred me to the Chief OB-GYN guy at Vanderbilt, and I see him on Wednesday. Odds are, he'll do another laparoscopy and magnify everything, looking for the clear stuff. Here's hoping that works out.

I'm Feeling Extra Neurotic Today

No more excuses - I'm going to blog regularly now. I mean, what else do I have to do, aside from having scopes shoved into every orifice I have? So let's go back a week or so and discuss THE REALLY STUPID THING I DID.

OK, I realize this is kind of vague, because yours truly does a lot of stupid things, but this one is up there. So I posted a note on Facebook, and I tagged someone, but I only tagged that someone because I thought I could make the note invisible to all but said person. I even set the note setting to only be read by the tagged individual. However, because Facebook and bad things happen to me, EVERYONE read it.

It wasn't that personal per se, but if I had intended it to be read by all I wouldn't have tagged my recently married ex, because, you know, that's tacky, and I may be neurotic and narcissistic, but I am NOT tacky (at least, not on purpose).

Well, as soon as I got a comment on it, I panicked and went to the note to untag, but it'd already been done. Now, I feel really bad about this, but we did date 2 1/2 years, so he already knows I'm neurotic, so I'm sure it wasn't that surprising. And I know he'll never in a million years read anything I've ever written again, but if anyone could get the word out that I feel like an asshole, it'd be appreciated.

Tomorrow marks 70 days in bed! Maybe I should have a party for myself. I'm bored. I hurt all the time. Everything hurts. And on top of this medical mystery that is my pain, I hurt in my heart, and while I do have chest pains, that's not what I mean.

Tuesday I get to have a cystoscopy. That means that Dr. Jackson is going to stick a scope in my bladder, and while I've been assured it won't hurt, I have my doubts. I hurt when there aren't any scopes in my bladder, so I can't imagine this will be pleasant. They also aren't going to sedate me, and that's just mean. That's the best thing about that colonoscopy: fentanyl, the drug of drugs.

Lately I've been in a funk. I don't think this is my fault at all. Anyone going on 10 weeks in bed is going to be in a funk. If I'm not back at work by August 24, I'm going to lose my insurance, which is so not what I need right now. So in this funk I've come to the conclusion that no one will ever love me, and I will die alone. Joy.

Currently listening to: "Romeo and Juliet" by Dire Straits
Currently Feeling: Listless

I Got Rear-Ended in Hendersonville and All I Got Was This Lousy Concussion

Due to all the things going on in my life right now, I decided to take a leave of absence from work. It's for 30 days, and it will be unpaid. I knew it would be difficult, but I also knew that I had enough Starbucks stock to use during my leave. I sent in the paperwork yesterday afternoon.

Three hours later, I was rear-ended. The woman got out to see if I was OK, then told me she didn't have insurance. My aunt was a few cars behind and pulled over. She told me the damage was bad and that we needed to call the police. I asked her to call because my phone was in my pocket, and as she pulled out her cell phone, the woman god into the van, drove around the stopped traffic, ran and redlight, and got out of the county before police were able to get to her. Sigh. I gave both the police and my insurance company the license plate number.

Here's the kicker: I was sure I had uninsured/underinsured coverage. Well, I didn't. My claim is being filed under collision, even though I'm not the one who did the colliding. When I got my policy, I took a pretty high deductible on account of my excellent driving skills (I don't hit people - I have never had an at-fault accident, and in this instance, I was at a complete stop, as was the rest of the traffic on New Shackle). The bottom line is in order to get my car out of the shop I will need $1500, and after next Friday, I won't get another paycheck until December. Any stock I would have used will have to go toward living expenses during my leave. Yay.

I also have a concussion, which comes with a killer headache, nausea, and weak legs. Yay! Just what I need - a bruise on my brain. So I can't drive my car, which is fine because the woman's van took the bumper off. I hate my life.

"If You're Reading This, I'm Already Home"

A lot has happened over the past few weeks, and it's left me in a dark and lonely place. I know I don't update this often enough, but I like to believe that when I do, it is at least worthwhile. I don't like being vulnerable, but I've learned to see the benefits. I don't like being scared and lonely, but I guess they have their perks, too.

A few weeks ago my grandmother had a heart attack, followed by five bypasses. That weekend, my phone was cut off. My dad had told me he would keep me on his cell phone plan after the divorce. He didn't pay the bill. He didn't tell me. Friday, Sept. 21, my phone got cut off. That day, my best friend, Leslie, had her son, Joshua Jackson Reeves. The next morning, her husband, Josh, was killed in Iraq.

I know that all the grief I'm feeling is normal, or so I've read. I've read that it's normal that I can't function. I haven't lasted an 8-hour day at work since it happened. To top that off, the Tuesday after, my grandmother had a stroke, and is now in the hospital for rehab.

I can't sleep. I haven't slept through the night since Josh died. I cry every day. I can't function at work. I can't even do my job, and that's all I have in Chattanooga. It's the whole reason I'm there, and I can't even do it. I wake up scared. I have nightmares. Sometimes I even get physically ill. I can't do my job, and I can't be there for my friend. I feel so helpless and scared right now.

People keep telling me to get sleeping pills, or to get on with my life, get back to a routine. But I don't want to. I don't want to bury this. I am sad. I need to feel sad. I need to let this affect my life. I can't stand the thought of burying all this pain under coffee and paperwork. It just doesn't seem right.

I got some sleeping pills, but I don't want to take them. I am an emotional wreck right now. My parents divorced, my grandmother is in the hospital again, and my favorite person lost her favorite person. I'm so fragile, and I'm afraid that if I find something that makes this easier - makes this pain bearable - that I won't be able to let it go. It's a scary thing to have to look at yourself like that, and I like to think there's at least some wisdom in knowing what I may be capable of. It's frightening to be afraid of your own mind. I just don't want to let myself spiral, and I know I'm on the verge.

Josh's service is something I'll remember for the rest of my life. During the procession, people lined the streets, holding flags, crossing their hearts, saluting. Flags lined the streets leading up to the church, and all of the flags in the county were at half staff. Complete strangers not only pulled over but got out of their cars. Children watched in their parents arm, some saluting. It was the most moving display I have ever seen. Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes.

But it's not fair. We aren't supposed to bury our friends. We aren't supposed to bury husbands and fathers, certainly not at our age. I've tried to make sense of it all, and I can't. I have given up. This is beyond any of my comprehension. I can only hope that time truly does heal wounds, because this is a gaping one.

When I was driving home from Georgia, from Josh's funeral, I was listening to "If You're Reading This" by Tim McGraw. During the chorus, I saw a falling star. Some cultures believe falling stars are souls on their way to heaven. I hope so. Seeing that gave me an odd peaceful feeling, like I knew Josh was OK, and that Leslie and Jackson will be OK.

"If You're Reading This" - Tim McGraw

If you’re reading this
My mommas sitting there
Looks like I only got a one-way ticket over here
I sure wish I could give you one more kiss
And war was just a game we played when we were kids
Well I’m laying down my gun
I’m hanging up my boots
I’m up here with God
And we’re both watching over you

So lay me down
In that open field out on the edge of town
And know my soul
Is where my momma always prayed that it would go
And if you’re reading this
I’m already home

If you’re reading this
Half way around the world
I won’t be there to see the birth of our little girl
I hope she looks like you
I hope she fights like me
Stands up for the innocent and the weak
I’m laying down my gun
I’m hanging up my boots
Tell dad I don’t regret that I followed in his shoes

So lay me down
In that open field out on the edge of town
And know my soul
Is where my momma always prayed that it would go
And if you’re reading this
I’m already home

If you’re reading this
There’s gonna come a day
When you move on and find someone else
And that’s okay
Just remember this
I’m in a better place
Where soldiers live in peace
And angels sing Amazing Grace

So lay me down
In that open field out on the edge of town
And know my soul
Is where my momma always prayed that it would go
And if you’re reading this
If you’re reading this
I’m already home

Exhausted. Send Prayers.

My grandmother had a heart attack Saturday night. My mom called me while I was driving in from Maryville. I spent four hours at the hospital that night, then spent another three tonight. I've got to be back around 5:30 in the morning before her surgery. She had surgery Saturday night, and she's having a quint bypass tomorrow morning. She has five difficult blockages. She looks OK, but she's scared, as are the rest of us.

Currently Feeling: Worried, Scared

"Back Where I Come From"

MARYVILLE, TN: Here I am, in the tiny town I lived in from birth until age 8. When I lived here, it was a dry town. Weird. And the mentality of the people is still somewhat reminiscent of that - we had some great moonshine last night!

My dad and Laura (his girlfriend) were there, and it was kind of weird seeing them all couple-like. I guess it's to be expected. But that isn't the weirdest thing by any means. Laura has some grandkids, and it's just strange to me to see my dad interacting like that. He's not supposed to experience that with kids that aren't mine or Misty's.

I haven't been feeling great lately, and it kind of worries me. I also STILL haven't gotten my deposit back from the apartment I moved out of in June. Bastards. I need my damn money. I've got a speeding ticket to pay. I also haven't heard back from my doc about my test results with all the precancerous bullshit, and I'm not worried about it, but I'd still rather know.

Spending time in Maryville has helped with the loneliness. Tomorrow I'm going to the Titans game. WOOT!

Ten Feet off the Ground

Update: Stealing Internet is hard when you don't have your Windows admin password. Thankfully, it isn't impossible. I'm at my sister's right now. I have a hair appointment tomorrow, and then I'm looking for shoes. I might not find the shoes I want, but I've found that I tend to spend my off days shoe shopping. What is wrong with me? I've got two full shoe racks and I've bought about 7 pairs of shoes since I moved to Chattanooga.

I have done some amazing things lately: I have successfully done a handstand push-up, against a wall for balance but not weight support (only my toes were on the wall). I have also lost an inch in my waist, and it somehow magically resurfaced in my chest. SCORE! I've also started working out more regularly. Good for me. I'm glad I'm finally getting off my lazy ass. It sure took a while.

Chattanooga update: I'm still lonely, and at least once a week I wonder what the hell I did. I doubt my abilities a lot, and I often find myself wondering how I'm not constantly fucking everything up. I'm also still far too introspective. Sigh. That part of me might never go away.

I think this has a lot to do with turning 25 in three months. I'm not where I thought I would be. I'm not even close. I need therapy. I don't have time for it, but I need it. I met my dad's girlfriend a few days ago. Did I mention I need therapy?

On the plus side, my body's finally not in embarrassing shape. I wore my skinny jeans last week (Abercrombie kids size 12)! I plan to celebrate with new blonde hair and some sweet metallic strappy sandals.

The song of the day, "Apologize." Sometimes it is too late. I think this might be one of those times.

I'm holding on your rope,
Got me ten feet off the ground
And I'm hearing what you say but I just can't make a sound
You tell me that you need me
Then you go and cut me down, but wait
You tell me that you're sorry
Didn't think I'd turn around, and say...

That it's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late

I'd take another chance, take a fall
Take a shot for you
And I need you like a heart needs a beat
But it's nothing new - yeah yeah

I loved you with the fire red-
Now it's turning blue, and you say...
"Sorry" like the angel heaven let me think was you
But I'm afraid...

It's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late whoa.....

It's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late
I said it's too late to apologize, yeah-
I said it's too late to apologize, yeah-
I'm holding on your rope, got me ten feet off...

"The kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday"

That's right, I referenced the infamous sunscreen song. I'm back to blogging again. Yay. Look for frequent updates.

Why is it that the things you have to deal with most are things you thought you'd never have to face? Monday I was home I saw first-hand the kind of things that have been going on between my parents for a while now. It was scary. I never thought I'd be afraid in my own house, but I was. I had to leave and go to my aunt's house, because it freaked me out. I'm not going into specifics, so don't ask.

In a few days I'll go back to Chattanooga, and I won't know what to do. I can't do this alone. I can't go through the kinds of things I'm having to go through without friends and therapy. I'm not even sure how I can get through this. It's hard for me to see myself out of it, but I guess I'll have to, because there aren't any options. I just really wish I wasn't alone.

Earthquake!

OAKLAND, CA: Yep, there was a 3.2 around midnight last night. How awesome is that? It was kind of relaxing, really. Definitely not scary.

Today I am doing the car tour of San Francisco, including a trip to the beach, which is only about 60 degrees. What kind of beach is that? Weirdness.

Tonight is probably going to be Hot Yoga. WOOT! More updates to come.

"Where I Got Friends Who Care for Me"

OAKLAND, CA: I'm in California for my first vacation in three years, and it's definitely long overdue. Today I spent the morning in Berkeley, and visited the intersection of Virginia and La Loma, from the Counting Crows song "Perfect Blue Buildings."

A lot has happened to warrant the vaca - my parents' divorce was final last Friday. I've moved to Chattanooga, and while I tell people I'm doing OK there, I'm really not. I think I grind my teeth in my sleep on account of the stress, and my jaws are killing me.

We're hitting up a bar later tonight, then tomorrow I'm cruising around San Fran. Sometime this week, Erica and I are probably going to get in on some Hot Yoga. The weather here is nice. I could see myself moving here at some point. It seems fitting, as I have so much to run away from.

Good News: I Did Not Die

It's been a while, because I haven't had Internet in a year, and I stopped dating Internet-having people in the Spring. Excellent.

I'll make this short and sweet, with the best of intentions to update often.

Friday I move to Chattanooga to manage a Starbucks there. WOOT!

That is all for now. I plan to get a new computer within two months of being there.

Rules of Engagement: Part 2

Remember back when Travis got engaged? Well, now you do!

So he's married now. Again, not to me. And why am I bothered by this? I'm in a relationship, I know Travis and I would've been terrible together, so what is this sadness?

I assume it's my own realization that I'm not going to get all those things I wanted seeing (as how I'm 24 at the moment).

I won't be married by 22.

I won't have three kids by age 30.

I won't have a college degree by age 23.

How much more of my life is going to slip away before something changes?

So I'm going to drink away my pain. Because that's the irresponsible thing to do. But it makes me feel good.

At the risk of being redundant, this one goes out to someone who will never read this. For what it's worth, I enjoyed the ride.

"Champagne High" one more time

I wasn't looking for a lifetime with you
And I never thought it would hurt just to hear
"I do" and "I do"
And I do a number on myself
And all that I thought to be
And you'll be the one
That just left me undone
By my own, hesitation

Bridge
and for the million hours that we were
well I'll smile and remember it all
then I'll turn and go
while your story's completed mine is a long way from done.

Chorus
Well I'm on a champagne high
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high
I'd toast to the future but that'd be a lie
On a champagne high, high

Spring turned to summer
But then winter turned to mean
The distance seemed right
At the time it was best - to leave
And to leave behind
What I once thought was fine And so real - to me
And while I'm still gone
On the quest for my song
I'm at your - celebration

Bridge & Chorus

Your wagon's been hitched to a star
Well now he'll be your thing that's new
Yeah what little I have you can borrow
'Cause I'm old and I'm blue...

Bridge

Well I'm on a champagne high (so high)
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high (so high)
Toast to the future but that'd be a lie
On a champagne high
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high...high...
So high so high you left me undone
so high, so high you left me undone...

Only Six Months Until the Fourth of July!

Well, it's the fourth day of the new year, and this is the first I've gotten to blog about it. 2006 was a year of change for me, which I will recap later when I have the time.

First off, some resolutions:

1) Take better care of myself. That means exercising more regularly, eating more fruit (let's not kid ourselves - I'm not going to do the vegetable thing), sleeping when I'm tired, and taking vacations at least every eight months.

2) Stop neglecting my blog. This one's going to be hard, seeing as though I still don't have Internet access at my apartment. Maybe I'll get it. Probably not - my lease is up in four months.

3) Make strides in getting out of debt. This means I need to pay off at least one credit card, ideally two. I need to put some cushion money in savings (right now I have a paltry $200). I also need to live somewhere with fewer expenses ($300-$400 a month max), which probably means moving back home in May.

4) Stop bitching about my life and change it. For instance, if I'm not married by the time I'm 27, I'm moving. Something drastic, too, like across an ocean or something. If North America isn't showing me the love by then, it's time for a change of scenery.

The recap 2006 introspective blog will probably appear Sunday.