Fellow Readers...

Fellow readers (or bookies, as I like to call myself. Yanno, like a foodie with food, but with books), I have an issue.

Several, actually.

But this one has to do with book content. Ya see, I devour books like dragons devour sheep. I love mystery, horror, fiction, non-fiction, romance, sci-fi/fantasy, etc.

But what I don't love is a large part of the romance and the whole baby thing. Cheesus Crust, I think of the last five books I've read, here's the situation in three of them:

Boy meets girl.
Boy and girl date/hook-up/one-night-stand.
Girl gets pregnant.
Girl doesn't tell boy.
Girl is distraught over pregnancy.
Girl hides child from boy/moves away/stops seeing boy/gives baby up for adoption.
Girl 'forgets' boy.
Girl runs into boy again.
Girl has to tell boy of baby.
Girl, boy, and baby/child live happily. ever. after.

I understand that people want a happy ending. I get that since it's what sells, it's what gets written. It's just. fucking. annoying.

For such strong, powerful women, some of these characters are fucking wimpy once they find out they're knocked up. "Oh noes, what will I dooooo! I'm with child, but I will be raising this child alone (smacks fist in palm), for I cannot interrupt his life with this change!"

Bullshit. Sack up (or twat up, if you prefer). It took two of you to get into this mess, it's gonna take two of you to fix it. Put your big girl panties on and deal with this shit head on.

Does this annoy anyone else?

Steph 

The Rainbow Connection...

No, not Kermit.
I have so many different friends, all with different views; from the hardcore Christians to the hardcore atheists, and every spot inbetween. So, here's my take and reasonings behind my support of all my fabulously flaming friends being able to get married like I did:
 
~1. This country was founded on religious freedom, meaning that I am free to practice my beliefs and you are free to practice your beliefs. Now, if you really want your special brand of religion to be the law of the land and make everyone follow your rules, remember this: so does ISIS. So do Muslims practicing Sharia Law.
 
~2. You think that they'll try to convert you? Dreamers, Comedian Nate Baimel made a very good observation: "they're not Jehovah's Witnesses. They don't spend Sunday knocking on doors asking who's read from the Book of Judy Garland.... They're not vampires, they can't convert you.... If the reason you don't want to be around gay men is because you're afraid they'll be able to talk you into being gay, then surprise! YOU'RE GAY!
 
~3. "But I don't want to explain to my kids why those two men/two women are holding hands/kissing/fornicating!" If they're fornicating in public, there's a bigger issue of what the fuck you're doing with your children and where the fuck are you taking them? The inability to explain things to your children when they're small will only get harder the harder the topics get, and can result in early promiscuity, 16 and pregnant, a host of sexually transmitted diseases, abusive relationships, and the need to wear Crocs and Spongebob pajama pants out to dinner.
 
~4. Even one of my outspoken Christian friends has posted this via Facebook:

  

~5. For those of you who are adamant Bible-followers, here are some discrepancies that I'm pretty sure that EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU HAVE FAILED! Unless you’ve never done any of them perhaps it’s time to lay off quoting what Leviticus in the Bible tells you shouldn't be done:

-Eating fat (3:17) (no bacon, then)
-Eating blood (3:17) (medium rare steaks are out)
-Failing to testify against any wrongdoing you’ve witnessed (5:1) (if you've ignored the man beating his child in a parking lot for dropping a soda, you failed this one)
-Failing to testify against any wrongdoing you’ve been told about (5:1) (keeping it to yourself when someone tells you they've lied about something is a sin)
-Eating an animal which doesn’t both chew cud and has a divided hoof (cf: camel, rabbit, pig) (11:4-7) (again, no more bacon)
-Touching the carcass of any of the above (problems here for rugby and football and basketball) (11:8)
-Going to church within 33 days after giving birth to a boy (12:4) (I know some of you have children)
-Going to church within 66 days after giving birth to a girl (12:5) (some more than one)
-Having sex with your mother (18:7), father’s wife (18:8), your sister (18:9), your granddaughter (18:10), your half-sister (18:11), your biological aunt (18:12-13), your uncle’s wife (18:14), your daughter-in-law (18:15), your sister-in-law (18:16), a woman and also having sex with her daughter or granddaughter (18:17)
-Marrying your wife’s sister while your wife still lives (18:18)
-Having sex with a woman during her period (18:19)
-Having sex with your neighbour’s wife (18:20)
-Giving your children to be sacrificed to Molek (18:21)

-Having sex with a man “as one does with a woman” (18:22) (here we go--the big one everyone is up in arms about)

-Making idols or “metal gods” (19:4)
-Stealing (19:11)
-Lying (19:11)
-Swearing falsely on God’s name (19:12)
-Cursing the deaf or abusing the blind (19:14)
-Perverting justice, showing partiality to either the poor or the rich (19:15)
-Spreading slander (19:16)
-Seeking revenge or bearing a grudge (19:18)
-Mixing fabrics in clothing (19:19) (You get a sackcloth! You get a sackcloth! Sackcloth and ashes for everyone!)
-Cross-breeding animals (19:19) (all of your designer dogs? against the Bible)
-Eating fruit from a tree within four years of planting it (19:23)
-Practising divination or seeking omens (tut, tut, astrology and all you horoscope readers) (19:26)
-Trimming your beard (19:27)
-Cutting your hair at the sides (19:27)
-Getting tattoos (19:28)
-Not standing in the presence of the elderly (19:32)
-Mistreating foreigners – “the foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born”  (19:33-34)
-Cursing your father or mother (punishable by death) (20:9)
-Working on the Sabbath (23:3)
-Blasphemy (punishable by stoning to death) (24:14)
-Inflicting an injury; killing someone else’s animal; killing a person must be punished in kind (24:17-22)
-Selling land permanently (25:23)
-Selling an Israelite as a slave (foreigners are fine) (25:42) (so I can sell my niece? she's not an Israelite.)

Basically, if you're going to pick apart that it is an "abomination to lie with man as one lies with woman", might want to go through your closet and your pantry and your whole life, because you can't follow one Leviticus order and not the rest. I want you to tell me definitively how you can only follow one of these and still claim to be following the Bible and God's Word. Until you can do that, your argument is invalid.

~6. "Thou cannot remove the mote in thy neighbor's eye without first tending to the plank in thine own."

~7. I am a Libertarian. Yes, the government should protect the general welfare of her people--against outside tyranny, against outside harm; all else should be up to the states as a guideline and the individual. I have guns, I am all for legalization of marijuana, I am all for marriage equality. You don't want to wear your seatbelt? Don't. That is your right as an American to make that choice for yourself, as an adult.

Gary Johnson, my vote for President in the last election, and will be this go-round released this following statement in response to the SCOTUS ruling:

 
~8. Marriage is a legal contract between two people. Holy Matrimony is a religious contract between two people and God. Separation of church and state? Easy. It has nothing to do with God unless you want it to.

~~

You know what? To most of you raging Christians, nothing I've said makes a difference. You'll still thump your Bibles and tell me that I'm wrong and that I'm going to Hell. I don't do religion. I don't do churches. I do God, the Great Spirit, the Goddess, the Divine Creator. S/He and I talk...well, I talk, S/He listens. And sometimes, S/He answers with a little bit of help that I so desperately needed.

So, if I am going to Hell?

I'll be sure to save you a seat.

Cheers,
Steph

Winter Weddings

I know what you're going to say:
"But Ms Dreamer, you're already married to Mr Realist!"

And I'll say, "But my bestie is getting married in October, and I was playing with what I would do if I were to marry Mr Realist again." And I found Weddington Way

So I went to their site, and created a new bridesmaid look. 

The Dress 

(here's a screencap)

  

Obviously, it's got a bit of a Grecian feel to it, so I went with it.

But then I realized that one needs shoes. So I goog'd them.

These Kate Spade ones just reached out to me, and said "Pick me!" And since I'm not a heel-wearing kinda girl, I picked some that were shorter but still lovely. (they are navy, I swear)

Ok, so great dress, great shoes. Need fun jewelry.

Yeah, I stuck with the semi-Grecian theme -- swirly armband and earrings. The way the neckline is on the dress, I couldn't see putting a necklace with it, and I think it works. A simple silver bangle would be my gift to my bridesmaids.

Now, it is winter after all, and I can't imagine the chilliness of chiffon and lack of arm coverage. So I added a wrap.

Just a simple, navy pashmina wrap/shawl to match the shoes.

And the flowers...those, I can't decide on. But I like these.

How am I going to carry my lippy, phone, ID, and money during the reception, you ask?

In this fun, sequined clutch!

So, we've got the dress, the shoes, the flowers, the accessories...what are we missing?

Hair & Makeup! (Oh yeah...I did).

I'd want something elegant and simple for both hair and makeup. And I found Keira Knightly's (or someone who looks like her) picture for Makeup:

Something fresh yet classy. 

So we have makeup. What about Hair?

I thought about this. Fun, flirty, and still elegant. Quasi-messy updo, anyone? How about we throw a small braid in, just for kicks.

 

 Here's everything all together :)

I love it!! Do you? If not, that's ok. This is just one of many designs that I would put together. What would you add/remove/change?

Now all I have to do is convince Mr Realist that we need to have another wedding.

Smooches,
Steph

**This post was inspired by Weddington Way!  If you're looking for some awesome chiffon dresses (or just in general), go check them out here :)

PPS: all images are using the Googlenator under "navy kitten heels", "silver swirly jewelry", etc.

Fashion Friday?

I've been taking pictures of my outfits this week (since Wednesday, at least) to show you my style. I definitely don't follow fashion, and I wear what I like and what is comfortable.

 Wednesday: Dress and Cardi from Old Navy; shoes Eastland from Zappos.
Size on dress & cardi: XXL; shoes: women's 9.5 wide

Thursday: white V-neck tee (stolen from husband), super large scarf tied into a vest (thrifted), dark jeans (Cato), brown Airwalk sandals (Payless, about 8 years old)
Size: tee, 2XLT; jeans, 20; sandals, men's 8

Today (Friday): white V-neck tee (also stolen from husband), navy tank dress w/waist tie (Old Navy), teal zip-up hoodie (Fashion Bug), brown Airwalk sandals (see above). It's chilly in my office today, so that's the reason for the hoodie.
Size: tee, 2XLT; dress, XXL; hoodie, 2XL; sandals, men's 8.

I take these photos to remind myself that I can still dress comfortable and cute and covered and not have to be all "if X skinny model can wear this belly shirt, so can I!" (I don't want to see your belly. Hell, I don't want to see MINE!).

Although, in the first picture, I do need different shoes. Found the CUTEST pair of oxfords at Torrid...I want.
It's either those or a pair of nude flats from Payless. I'd also like a pair of Keds that I can paint, so I'll get those as well. :)

My favorite outfit is today's. What's yours?

Ouch...

Well, THAT didn't go as well as expected. I still have the scarf.

Boo.

Such is life. You know, I'd like to be able to write all the time, but I don't see me ever being a Single Dad Laughing (cause I'm not single, and I'm not a dad), or a Pioneer Woman or an Epbot. 

I'm so flighty about things -- ADD on my knitting; I don't do book reviews because I can just let a story be a story, unless it's absolute garbage; I don't do fashion because I rock my own style whether anyone likes it or not. 

So, if you wouldn't mind, tell me what you like to read about? What would relax you and take your mind off of kids and house and husband/wife and work and anything else?

I'm disgusted...

I have a friend who suggested that I use the Lose It! app for iPhone to track my calories (it's a heckuvalot easier to use than MyFitnessPal). She and I are friends in-app as well as IRL.

I didn't think I ate unhealthily, just too much of it.

Got that fucking right.

Today, I didn't have breakfast, but had Taco Bell for lunch. 

Good holy crap on a cracker...I'm already over 1600 calories!!

I've been keeping track since Saturday, and it's really kinda grossing me out.

It's been a giant kick in the teeth, even after only two and a half days.

 

Made It Monday (a bit late)

I take one day off, and it throws everything out the window.

I know I posted yesterday that I'd have a Made It Monday last night, but yesterday was Tuesday, not Monday, and today is Wednesday, making today Wiseass Wednesday. I'll have a postie on this one later.

In the meantime, here's what I made the other day!

Actually, I made two. This one's about 3.5 feet long, and it's hand knitted. 

Like literally via my fingers--no sticks!

Here it is, round my neck:

So, I'm giving one away! It's long enough that you could stitch the ends together and make it a necklace/small infinity scarf, or leave it as it is. And no, the octopus necklace is not part of the deal. :)

All you have to do is leave me a comment/email me telling me your favorite cold weather accessory -- is it your gloves that you knitted? Your UGG boots that you got at an outlet mall? The earmuffs you've had since fifth grade?

Giveaway ends Saturday night, 11.59pm Central Standard Time.

Eight Days A Week

I'm working on it.
Again.
The blogging thing.

Made It Monday
Wiseass Wednesday
Finally Friday

Too-Far Tuesday?
How about Ta-Ta Thursday? :)

Whatchoo think? Email me! dreamerandrealist at gmail dot com

Ms D.

I'll have a Made It Monday up later -- finished a scarfy this weekend! lol I'm so lame

I try to...

not snore, but it doesn't work.

Wednesday night, I was in bed and asleep by 9pm...cause I had to be up at 5am to be ready to be picked up at 6.15 for a 1.5 hour drive for a meeting. So much fun :P

Anyhoo...I was up and taking the dog out at 5; had to get Mr Realist up so he could drive me to the meeting spot, and I was perfectly punctual (for a change).

So last night, I was up until almost 11...it was Thursday, so I throw darts. Almost punched a woman out for being a Cunty McWhore.

I apparently snored loads last night. My throat hurts and I'm exhausted. 

Guess who's going to bed early tonight? :)

Ms D.

Ohmigosh...

Folks, if you've never read Mental Poo, and you're a fan of the irreverent and crude and hilariously funny, go check him out (@Moooooog35 on the twitters, if you're so inclined).

Dreamers, he's snarky and fun and has more than on one occasion made me snort whatever I was drinking out of my noseholes (beer burns, yos). 

I bought his first book, "Things Go Wrong For Me" on my Kindle, and I couldn't put it down...woke my husband up a couple of times laughing. He's a master at Draw With Friends.

Well, he's got a new book coming out, and he made a comment on his Facebook that if anyone was interested in reading it early and putting a review on their blog, just let him know. I emailed him, letting him know I would, and I got a response!!

Guys, you gotta check him out.

@moooooog35
Rodney Lacroix on the book of Face

Go forth, dreamers, and follow!!

Depressed Puppy

Wednesday was a bad night. I hadn't slept well for two days (approximately 6 hours in 48), so I took a melatonin at about 8.30 and was out cold by 9.15.

10.15 comes along, and Tom wakes me up.

"Daisy's gone." I didn't understand what he meant.

"How'd she get out?" I asked, still asleep.

"No, Daisy's dead, honey." I immediately burst into tears.

We got Daisy three months after we got married; she was born in November due to my sister's dog getting with the dog down the street. Daisy was the runt of four and born with a deformed front right paw. She was ours, our fuzzbutt, our princess, our baby.

10.30 pm on Wednesday night, Tom and I were digging a grave in our backyard for our beloved dog.

We don't think she suffered. Tom said she had her sleepy smile on her face when he found her in the doghouse when he'd gone out to hush Duke up (he was howling, something he never does). She was only a mid-sized dog, but her bloodline (rottweiler, shar-pei, shepherd, chow) are all large dogs, and their lifespan is only between 8-10 years. 

Three years ago, she had to have a pretty invasive heartworm treatment done, and the vet did say that it could weaken her heart. We think that's what it was, because even after she was cured, she never did slow down. Spastic right up until the very end.

Duke, up until last night, hadn't slept because he has been looking for his sister (not from same parentage, but she's all he's ever known). We gave him a much-needed bath Friday morning and brought him inside (which is where he's going to be from here on). He's miserable and isn't eating much. I'm worried about him. Tom stayed home this weekend to be with him instead of coming to the con launch of the second book (I'm immortalized in print, yos).

He's not his usual self. I want my Duke back.

And my Daisy. I'm wearing her rabies tag from last year. It's a heart.

Momma, Daddy, and Duke all miss you, punkin.

 

My Friend

If you follow me on Facebook, you may notice that my profile picture is of me, but not my husband.

It's my friend Ryan. At a Party of Epic Proportions in March, so of course, it was for St. Patrick's Day. We drank. We ate. We made merry. And we danced.

Two weeks ago today, my friend Ryan was killed in a drunk driving accident. He was coming home from work in St Louis as a DJ at 2am on Friday morning, when a woman going westbound on the eastbound side of the interstate hit him head on. Killed him instantly, and his car caught fire. The woman was in critical but stable condition last I'd heard.

I don't care. She took my friend's life with her carelessness. If she makes it, she will go to jail and will have to live with what she did to Ryan for the rest of her life. Good.

We're making some window stickers to as a memorial to him. They're the Batman logo--his favorite comic book character. I couldn't even look at the proof without having to go to the bathroom and cry. 

Ryan, dude, this sucks. You stayed with us during Contamination. You are a fellow character in "The Apocalypse of Enoch" (zombie novel). Any chance you could stare at my boobs (or ANY girls' boobs, for that matter), you did. Most of us didn't even mind--they're just boobs, after all. 

You were my first DnD experience. You were the first to put BiL in his place with the 'your mom!' jokes. You were an excellent DJ and karaoke master. My biggest regret? That I didn't get to sing with you. I'm making that part of "My Ryan List" -- when someone asks me to sing karaoke, I'll do it. There are more goals on my Ryan List, but that's just to start. 

I miss you. It's been two weeks, but it seems like forever. 

RIP Ryan. I just want to hear you from the heavens, leading the praise team as loud as you possibly can. Which, for you, would be normal.

~Steph

Well, crap.

Well, happened again last night.

I was pregnant in my dreams. Only not by anyone I would consider remotely a good father or friend or decent human being.

Really, brain? You had to put the douchebag in there?

Asshole brain.

And it was yet another boy. 

This has got to stop.

Shredded Inside

I've been adamant on here before about children. No way, no how, they're not for me. I'm selfish, shallow, stubborn, and children are sticky, smelly little creatures that I don't have much patience for. I love the fact that I can give them back to their parents after a few hours.

But.

And that's a very large but.

Ever since the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge (Prince William and wife Kate Middleton, for you non-Anglophiles) were delivered of a son, His Royal Highness, Prince George, I've been dreaming about children.

As in mine. 

As in being delivered of them.

I think I'm going insane.

Please tell me I'm not insane.

Except I hate to be so adamant about something, and then change my mind.

This is tearing me up inside, Dreamers.

Help. I need someone to talk me through this.

For good or bad.

Finally Friday!

It's finally Friday here in the land of the weird. 

I had a lovely lunch today with my friend Jen -- had a pork patty lunch from one of the churches here in town, and went to a park and just sat and nattered on for an hour. I needed it -- needed to get out of the office, to have some girl conversation, and just enjoy the outdoors. It does suck that summertime has pulled away the knitting night. Makes part of me yearn for fall and longer hours and more time. :)

I think that this weekend is going to be a good one. Moon's in its waning phase, and it should be a good night tomorrow night just to be outside with a small fire, some good friends, and a beer or three.

I hope everyone's week has gone well, and if it hasn't...well, here's to hoping that your weekend is better.

Ms D

Costuming

Just so you know, LDs, I love playing "dress-up." And not in the "I'm raiding my mother's closet" kind of way.

I'm talking cosplay...short for COStumePLAY. I am currently in a zombie hunting cosplay group: Z.O.D. We dress up in military-type clothing (all black, mind you--red's an accent color), and "hunt zombies." It's rather fun. :)

I'm slowly getting into the Steampunk genre -- I have a couple of madrigal-y type dresses that one of them will be modded into a mechanic's dress; the other, a lovely ballgown.

I'm also working on a Captain America costume for a Party of Epic Proportions happening in September. I think that I may have found the base for my shield. Now to hammer it out!

No matter what anyone says, you're never too old to pretend!

Ms D

My So-Called Life

You know, I don't think I ever watched that show. Ever. Although Claire Danes is gorgeous...as is Jared Leto. :)

I found this topic at some point over the weekend, and I decided I'd lead off with something easy.

"Share a peek into your daily life." (of course, they spelled it peak and it annoyed me to no end)

6am~alarm goes off for the first time.
6.30~husband gets in the shower.
7~get in the shower.
8~get to work
Noon~lunch
5~headed home (or to the market or to a softball game, depending on the day)
9.30~in bed
11~sleepy

See, that's super easy. It seems like I don't do anything, but I really do, I promise!
While hubs is in the shower, I'm slow to get up (I hate mornings); during lunch, I normally read or write; between the time I get home and being in bed, I make dinner, pick up the house, run the dishwasher or a load of laundry, I may game or read or write or goof around on the internet; between being in bed and going to sleep, I'm usually reading.

I'm generally content to do all of these things, but what I need to do is to get busy working on my Captain America costume for the Party of Epic Proportions that is happening mid-September; that, and hub's Green Lantern costume...sheesh.

What's your daily life like?

Ms D

Breaking Out

Nah, nothing insidious (good word for a Friday).

I don't know what it is, but I want to write. Here. My books. EVERYWHERE.

I'm trying to Google for some ideas, but I don't want to turn this into some crazy, mass-media blog. That's not me.

I guess that I could start with some easy stuff.

Like who I am. Favorites. Pet Peeves. Hot actors. Hot actresses. Games.

Why the hell I called my boss "Dear" yesterday morning. O.o (yeah, totally did)

If you read this via an email feed, shoot me one back and let me know. dreamerandrealist@gmail.com

Ms D

Death walks among us.

I know - maudlin title. 

But he does.

He did especially on Friday.
Most of you don't know the feelings and heart behind the relationship (or lack thereof) between myself and the stepfather.

He met my mom when I was 2 (I was living with my grandparents), and married her when I was four (and my sister just four months). 

He was an alcoholic and an abusive one. It was "my job" to look out for my sister (because there were more important things to do -- drink beer, smoke pot, etc.). If she got hurt or in trouble, I got the beating.

And I'm not talking about a spanking. I'm talking full-on, grab what you can find (normally, it was his leather belt; hangers, flyswatters, wooden spoons, and a specially-made paddle out of a canoe oar all made their appearances), and beat the shit out of me. Don't get me wrong, she got hit, but not near as often or as violently as I did. There were many times that welts and bruises prevented sitting. 

Once, when I was young, I remember getting into trouble and being grounded from the television...but made to sit in front of it with my forehead on the console of it (it was an ancient one).

I couldn't practice my trumpet because "it's too loud, and you're not playing music." I was allowed two sports -- soccer and basketball. Volleyball and softball were out of the question because they cost more money. Creativeness was squashed -- "You won't amount to anything." I don't remember him coming to any sporting events--they cut into his drinking time.

When we went on float trips during the summer, since I was the oldest, I had to paddle the canoe, because "someone has to have dry hands to open cans." Fetching beers was another 'favorite'.

Crying over anything earned you a beating. Grades didn't impress him; neither did the coveted spot of being songleader for your class when it was your grade's turn to do all of the readings and such at Mass. "You can't sing and you're stupid."

"You're the oldest, you need to watch all the younger kids" meant that being only one year older than the next kid (who was a boy and mentally handicapped with an extreme speech impairment) and having to corral at the very least four other kids so they didn't get hurt or in trouble so you didn't earn a beating (and it didn't matter who was there when you took your punishment). The only justification that I got out of it was that when the boy picked on my sister or the younger kids, I could chase him down and beat the crap out of him. More than once I was told "I'm gonna tell my daddy!"...and they thought it was funny.

I moved to my aunt and uncle's house because of avalanching grades when I was 14, two years after the stepfather and my mom got divorced. That same year, I found out that he wasn't my real dad, something that I had prayed for numerous times; that my real dad would come to my mom and apologize for his last words to her ("It's not mine") and want me and I wouldn't have to suffer the beatings. That never happened.

After that, he and I had very little contact. Maybe two calls in five years; saw him on the rare occasion when I went to Springfield to see my mom and sister whilst I was in college. 

My sister was supposed to bring my mother to my college graduation, but she was too hungover to be up in time...so she brought my stepdad, someone I didn't want there. I'm just glad she didn't decide to invite him to my wedding. I'd have cheerfully killed her and him both.

The reason behind the title? He died on Friday evening, after my sister made the call as his Power of Attorney to pull him off life support, but they got to the hospital before she did (he wanted a DNR--Do Not Resuscitate). Kidneys had already shut down, his liver was failing (that was due to his alcoholism), and he had lung cancer. In addition to that, he'd pretty much pickled his brain by drinking and crack (yes, he'd progressed from just beer and weed to smoking crack. He had loads of money after his mom and his sisters died, so he went crazy and blew more than $60K). The only thing that wasn't affected was his heart -- still beating strong even after they took him off of the vent for a couple of hours.

He went slowly and still in a coma. I was there for my mom and my sister, holding his arm and hand because my mom wanted me to. I would have been ok just sitting in the chair in the corner, being there for them. If they went down to smoke, I moved to the chair beside him. Only once did I speak to him, to tell him that I was sorry I wasn't the daughter he wanted, that I was someone else's by-blow.

That was all. 8.08pm on Friday, he took his last breath and his heart finally stopped. I cried for my sister, my mother, and my niece. I cried enough over him when I tried to be a good daughter.

Some of you know me personally and know that I am a caring person, that I hate hurting people's feelings and will do anything to help. I think I am more upset that I don't feel bad that he's dead. My heart hurts for my family, but not for him.

He'd been "dying" for the last 25 years. It's finally done.

If you wouldn't mind giving up some prayers/good thoughts/love for my sister, it would be appreciated. She's having a really hard time with this.

The Stepfather
1957-2013

**Edit: correction on birth year. I was putting him at sperm donor's age***

Stuck in the middle...

It's not a good day already. I feel blah - like just need to go home, crawl back into bed, and do nothing. All day. 

How about I'm sitting here in my office, trying not to cry because I'm so sick of people and their stupidity.

I'm "just" Customer Service at the company I work for (more like my boss's assistant and CS and licensing and whatever else he needs done), but I don't get the same respect or help that "regular" CS does. I look like a fucking jackass when I get asked questions that I can't answer. 

I'm "just" Customer Service, but I get left out of training because I may not need it immediately...and then get left out of the fun things as well (dinner with our sales reps that I still talk to).

I'm "just" Customer Service, so my part of my mobile phone bill isn't paid for, but work can still call me on vacation days.

I feel like a whiny baby right now...doesn't help that Auntie Flo is here and I haven't been sleeping well and we're not getting raises (at least until September...meaning not at all) this year, and I'm tired of it.

So tired...of everything.