New Year 2012

For the first time in almost 20 years, I will be going out on New Year's Eve. Yes, you read it correctly. I am going out on New Year's Eve with a date and everything. It might seem like no big deal to most people but since I have been without a significant other for the past 6 years (Mr. Big & Steve Rengel don't really count as significant others) it is a very big deal to me.

I never thought I was someone that really gave 2 shits about having someone to kiss when the ball drops at midnight but then again I also thought that I'd be with Erik for the rest of my life. And we all know that forever came a bit too soon as far as he & I were concerned. Yet the thought of having someone as amazing as my new honey...well let's just say that I didn't think he really existed - even though I hoped & prayed for a guy like him to come along and prove me wrong.

On the eve of my birthday last week, I felt like things were too good to be true. We had a little incident that almost made me give up hope. Sorta like when things are going so well that it's only a matter of time before something is bound to come along and fuck it all up. It had me all freaked out and depressed through the whole weekend. It made my birthday suck and my Christmas suck. And I'd thought it was going to make the New Year suck too.

But while I was at work on Christmas night - at the Loosli family Christmas dinner - I started to see a light at the end of the tunnel. It started when Julie told me I wouldn't be working on New Year's Eve. The lights are getting brighter and brighter for me and I can't wait til tomorrow night!

In case I don't get around to posting anything before tomorrow night, I just wanted to say I hope everyone has a safe and very Happy New Year!!!

Oh and thanks in advance, honey. I know I'm going to have the best time...because every day we spend together has been the best day ever and they just keep getting better. I love you!!!

Happy Almost Birthday to me...

I don't know why I thought this year would be different or that for once I had found someone to prove all the others wrong. Yet here I sit on the eve of what should be a happy occasion and I'm once again feeling completely fucked off, sad and alone. I hope I am wrong. I hope and pray with every ounce of my being that I am wrong. All I can do is pray. And hope that I am right about this one.
To be continued...

I believe...

After all...

I haven't been much for writing lately. I'm not quite sure why. There certainly has been enough happening in my life lately. Yet still no desire to write.

So this is the deal...tomorrow is November 22. If I'm remembering correctly, Prince Charming should be arriving to whisk me off my feet in the next week or so. But who knows? He was supposed to be here in May...then June...then he wasn't coming at all...then he reappears again.

Basically, since Steve Rengel dumped me, I have been trying to find someone to occupy my time. Which has left me feeling angry. Angry because I am alone and because I meet guys that say all the right things but turn out to be idiots or just lame in general. So then I'm all depressed and mad and that sucks. I think I will just stop trying to find someone to amuse me. Hell I'm a nice person. Someone once told me, "You're like a bright ass light...people flock to you like a moth to the flame. You don't have to do anything except sit there and be you." Okay so I think I'm just going  to sit here and wait. At least I will try to.

I'd like to believe that there are Prince Charmings in this world and that he's going to come charging up on a white horse (or surfboard, in my case)...that all the things I've read in fairy tales are true...and that he is going to take me away from all this. A girl can dream, no? It'd be a shame to have to sue Disney for false advertisement, don't you think?

Anyhow, I will try to write more. I think I feel better when I write. It clears my head. Otherwise I just stew and drive myself up the wall.

NICOLE CAROL MILLER
March 4, 1980 - September 11, 2001

 

"You can shed tears that she is gone,

or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back,

or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her,

or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,

or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her only that she is gone,

or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind,

be empty and turn your back.

Or you can do what she'd want:

smile, open your eyes, love and go on."

 - David Harkins

Once Upon A Time...

A couple of months ago, my cousin messaged me on facebook and said he wanted me to meet someone. It had been almost 2 months Steve Rengel dumped me and I wasn't exactly keen on the opposite sex; however, I knew that the only way to get over Steve was to date someone else. Ordinarily I wouldn't give anyone Kenny put in front of me the time of day but I was bored and did a little I-SPY on facebook. The guy was actually good looking...and, after perusing his profile with a fine tooth comb, I came to the conclusion that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea.

It wasn't a bad idea at all. In fact, it was just what I needed.

The Goods came blazing into my life with flowers on our first date...he opened doors...showered me with compliments...and most important, he made me laugh. He treated me with respect and called me his "Princess". He has treated me the way I deserve to be treated and for the past 2 months, everything has been almost too good to be true...until today.

This afternoon I sent him my usual afternoon text to which he informed me of some news that could change everything. I can't go into specifics but I will say that I feel like our relationship is going to be over before it really had a chance to begin.

After Steve Rengel dumped me, I had a hard time because he had told me that it wasn't anything I did...that I was always good to him (even when he didn't deserve me to be)...so if I was so awesome and understanding and such a great girlfriend, why did he dump me?

Not that it matters to me anymore why Steve Rengel broke up with me because since I met the Goods, I don't care. Meeting him was just what the doctor ordered. We make each other happy and if I look down 10 years down the road, he'd be the one I see by my side. I knew when I started going out with Steve Rengel  that he would never be my Prince Charming. I was almost convinced there is no such thing. Then Kenny brought me the Goods.

The Goods restored my faith in human nature. I forgot what it was like to have someone treat me with respect and bring me flowers and open doors and treat me like a Princess. He didn't just want to get down my pants. In fact, that concept was completely foreign to me. He makes me feel safe and I know he'd defend my honor in a heartbeat. He even introduced me to everyone as "the New Love of My Life."

I know that his newfound "problem" isn't really a "problem" at all.  I'd support any decisions he makes and be there to lend a helping hand in anyway. We could work through this together, as a couple or as friends. I know that I make him happy. And he makes me just as happy as I make him. Yet it seems like he's ready to throw happiness away with both hands. I hope that I'm just PMSing and that the uneasy feeling I've had all afternoon isn't because he wants to dump me.

I've come to the sick realization that Walt Disney was full of shit. Prince Charming is a fag and forever is nothing more than bullshit. The funny thing is deep down in my heart, I want the Goods to prove me wrong. I'm pray to God I'm wrong. Otherwise, I'm seriously considering suing Walt Disney for false advertisement...because for all his fairy tales and stories of Prince Charming, it seems to me that there's no such thing as "Happily Ever After..."

Or is there?

Because you were in it...

"...and, when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night,

And pay no worship to the garish sun."

~William Shakespeare

Ten years ago, I lost my friend Nicole Miller. She was a passenger on United Flight 93 on September 11, 2001. In the ten years since her death, I have thought of her every day. Some people have asked me why I still look at pictures of her or watch anything Flight 93/September 11 related. Some are shocked when I say that I don't want to forget what happened that day. Maybe it's because all they see is me crying because I lost my friend that day. Maybe not.

Though looking at her pictures and watching random videos may make me cry and miss her, the upside (for want of a better word) is that I know in my heart how fortunate I was to have known her at all. Her life, short as it may have been, was a blessing to me. For some unknown reason, in God's plan for me, he chose to cross her path with mine. And what a gift that has turned out to be!!!

Last night after I watched the following video online, I was given another gift.

For the first time in ten years, I was able to hear something I had thought I'd never hear again in this lifetime. It was the sound of her voice. I was able to close my eyes and for a few seconds, it's almost as if she was here with me in the same room. The only thing missing is not being able to open my eyes and see her "sparkly like a holiday" smile that always made everything seem like it was going to be okay. God knows I wish I could see it right about now.

As I've said many times before, time doesn't really heal all wounds. It doesn't make the pain any less painful with each passing day. All time has done is showed me a million different ways to hide it and not let anyone see how much it still hurts me.

The pain that was caused by the events of that fateful morning will never give me any "closure" and I'm not sure I want it to. Closure is an end to something. It means something finally ending. Though Nicole's life on earth ended ten years ago, I wouldn't do her justice to just stop thinking about her. Part of that is how she lived but also how she died.

I think in order to appreciate the good things in life, you've got to go through bad things. I've learned that both will help you appreciate life and the people in it.

A few days ago I watched an old episode of Dateline titled "No Greater Love". It was about the passengers and crew of Flight 93. Towards the end, Nicole's boyfriend Ryan said something in her eulogy that I think about often. He said, "I am not sure that I've learned anything in the last 11 days but what I do know is that my life...our lives...were better because she was in it."

Nicole Carol Miller

Sunrise

March 4, 1980

Sunset

September 11, 2001

Yes, Ryan. Our lives were much better because she was in it. I miss you, Nicole...more than anyone could possibly know.

I was at Safeway earlier tonight and as I stood in line at the checkout, the lady in front of me asked "Aren't you sick of all this September 11th crap?"


WOW.

My first instinct was to punch her in the mouth but instead I just took a deep breath and silently counted to ten. As I exhaled, my left hand went to my right wrist and I pulled down the stainless steel 9/11 NYPD Memorial bracelet. I slipped it off my arm and rubbed it as if trying to draw strength from it. I knew I was going to need it if I was going to speak without my voice cracking.

"I mean, honestly, it's been ten years...let it go already. Stop beating a dead horse..." she droned on about the news coverage of the upcoming memorials planned for next week. "Seriously...we're on the west coast. What the hell do we have to do with it?"

Suddenly a strong firm voice replied "I'll tell you what we have to do with it, lady. Or rather what I have to do with it. Number 1 - I am an American. Number 2 - I lost someone that day. Number 3 - the day we forget about what happened that day is the day it's bound to happen again. Look I'm all for free speech and I believe everyone is entitled to their own opinion...but I don't understand. I don't understand how you can ask that question without considering whether or not anyone has any personal ties to 9/11. Well I happen to have a personal interest in September 11 - my friend Nicole was on United Flight 93. So I'll be damned if I just let it go or forget what happened that day. You should be ashamed of yourself for being such an asshole."

It was then that I realized the voice that spoke those words was my very own. My two hands were balled up in fists and in one of them was my bracelet. I shoved it towards her. You could've heard a pin drop...the customers at the surrounding registers were staring at me wide-eyed. I squared my shoulders and asked her to please read the inscription.

She took the bracelet and held it gingerly. In a shaky voice, she read "The first line says: NYPD - 23 - WTC." She cleared her throat and continued "The bottom line says: 9 - 11 - 01." She gave it back to me and whispered "Sorry...I had no idea."

An older gentleman behind me asked where I got the bracelet and if he could see it. I handed it to him and he asked what the 23 meant. I explained that Bernard Kerik gave me the bracelet. At the time of the attacks, Mr. Kerik had been the Police Commissioner. He had lost 23 members of his security detail that day.

I don't remember much more about the rest of the night as I've been in a daze. It's almost 10 years. That's a long time to reflect...most of the time it seems like yesterday while other times it feels like it was a million years ago.

I'm sure I'll write again sometime in the next week. For now, I am exhausted. I forgot how out-of-whack and tired I get around this time of year.


I miss you, Nicole Miller. I really do.

Nervous

In a few hours, I will meet my friend Nicole's mother, Cathy, for the first time. I am also going to meet Grant for the first time as well. I am not nervous about meeting Grant at all. But I am scared I will cry when I meet Cathy. In fact, I am quite certain I will.

After meeting up with Grant at his hotel, we will drive to Nicole's house in San Jose. I will be in the house that Nicole grew up in. I will sit on the same furniture that she one sat on...be in the same rooms that she once laughed in, cried in, and lived in. I might even drink from the same glasses that she once drank from. I will probably shake her mom's hand and/or even hug her at some point today. None of these things scare me and they shouldn't make me nervous but they do.

I don't want to cry or look like a sissy lala but how can I not cry when I talk about Nicole? Especially when I'm talking to the woman that brought her into this world? There is no doubt in my mind that she'll ask me how I met her daughter and maybe even what my favorite memory of her is. I don't want to sound foolish when I tell her that my favorite memory is one I have after she passed away. But I will tell her and I will most likely than not cry. Not because I'm sad but because it was her daughter's memory that gave me the strength and courage to leave Erik. That it was Nicole's voice I heard when I blacked out...that it was her daughter who, even in death, made everything seem like it'd be alright.

Nicole was a special person. I knew that the moment I laid eyes on her 11 years ago. Seeing her smile was like the sun on my heart. Some how I have the feeling that I will get the same sensation when I meet Cathy in a couple of hours. And that makes my heart smile. Maybe not as bright as when I first met Nicole, but I am sure I will smile just the same.

I am going to try to get a little bit of sleep now so I don't look like too much of a zombie when I meet Grant and Cathy tomorrow. Wish me luck...hopefully I won't cry too much.

Familiar places...

I was driving with Jessica and Auntie Mary a couple of months ago. We had to drop off some documents at West Valley Community Services. As I walked out of the building, I immediately felt a sense of deja vu. I got into the car and we drove out of the parking lot. I started to feel anxious and I could not for the life of me understand why.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks when we're sitting at the light waiting to turn why I'm suddenly feeling so anxious and overwhelmed...why I was felt as if I was about to vomit...why I suddenly had tears in my eyes and why I felt like my head was going to explode. I looked to the left and saw a fire station. Erik built it over 10 years ago. He used to bring me work with him. Then after work, we'd go across the street to Chili's for cocktails and dinner. This was where I first met Nicole Miller and it is also the last place I saw her before September 11, 2001.

For the past few months, I have been thinking about Nicole and what kind of person she was. And all I really know is that she was probably, hands down, the only person I have ever met in my life that had such a presence. This might sound lame but when she walked into a room, it lit up. She had an aura about her that was so positive and bubbly it naturally rubbed off on everyone she came in contact with. She was the kind of person that was always happy; therefore she wanted those around her to be too. She was, as I once told my therapist, "sparkly...like a holiday."

Nicole was beautiful and happy and always had a smile for everyone. She was kind and compassionate and somehow seeing her always made the darkest day seem bright. Erik and I could be fighting like crazy yet when we'd walk into Chili's and I'd see her, she made everything feel like it was all going to be okay. I miss that so much. And, to be honest, I could really use that right about now.

In a couple of months, it was be 10 years since I last saw Nicole in the parking lot of Chili's. This year, on September 11th, it will have been ten years since I've heard her laughter...3,555 days since she flashed her movie star smile at me...85, 320 hours since I felt the warmth of her embrace...5,119,200 minutes since that beautiful light was extinguished...307,152,000 seconds that I've missed her. 

There hasn't been a day since September 14, 2001, in which I haven't thought about her. Some days, though, I just miss her so much it hurts. Today is one of those days. I could really use that sparkly like a holiday cheer right about now.

I take comfort knowing I will see you again, my friend. I love you. Until then...Rest in Peace, sweet Nicole.  

What time does my freakin' shift end, beeeeeeeeeotch?!

I get up pretty early in the morning. Not because I want to wake up early but because that's when my job starts. I am an in-home caregiver/companion/roommate to a 92 year old Serbian gem named Anna*. I guess I am what you'd call her PRIMARY caregiver. There is someone who is, for want of a better word, my backup. That someone is named Kellie*. And then there's Bojana*, Anna's niece/my best friend/my boss.

Until recently, it was just me doing the care. When I started working for the family back in September 2010, there had been another lady taking care of Anna. Things didn't work out so Bojana took the job on. I was somehow tossed into the mix and here I am 10 months later. Bojana does the administrative stuff and I do the taking care of part. It's worked out pretty good until about a month and a half ago when Anna took a turn for the worse.

The past 6 -7 weeks have been crazy, to say the least. Bojana and I finally agreed that there's no way we could care for Anna without help from a third party. We took this to the head of the family, Chris. He is Bojana's older brother. After much thought, we brought in Kellie.

This is where it starts to get sorta fucked up for me.

Even though I have "backup" now, I still spend pretty much 24 hours a day with Anna. She is pretty much bedridden indefinitely so she relies on me for everything...to bathe her, to cook for her, make her bed, change her Depends (Numbers 1 & 2), tuck her in at night, cut her fingernails, rub her legs, administer her medication, etc. Since she has been in bed for the last month or so, she obviously has to have someone with her 24/7. She cannot be left alone. Therefore I get no time to myself. I can't go to the store or to the library or on a date or to the movies or anywhere else for that matter.

Which poses a HUGE problem especially when I see everyone else doing what they want. Going shopping or to visit friends or to run errands are things I do not get to do anymore. And it sucks.

Take the last few days for instance. I've been pretty much doing all the caregiving, housework, cooking, etc. Yes, Bojana and Kellie help - a little. But for the most part, I'm the one who gets up with Anna in the morning and middle of the night. Yet I am the one who doesn't have a bed. I am the one who does not get to leave the house for days on end. I am the one with no life.

Bojana and I had words just the other day. She told me that she no one helps her. She does EVERYTHING and I do nothing. I just looked at her and asked "You're not serious, are you? I don't help you?" She looked me dead in the eye and said "No, you don't." It was after that argument that we realized how stressed we were. So a couple of days ago, the 3 of us decided we needed a schedule of sorts.

Since Bojana and Kellie are late sleepers, guess who gets to wake up at the crack of dawn? Bingo! Me. Not that I mind but when my co-workers sleep until 3 or 4 pm, I tend to get a little hot under the collar.

Hello?! Do you think either of them stop to think that I might want to sleep in? Oh no. Norma loves getting up at the crack of dawn while she'd rather be sleeping...she'd like to not have to worry about pissy and/or shitted Depends, morning meds and straightening up someone's bedding...she'd like to be the one that gets to sleep on a REAL mattress or even that air mattress in the other room behind a closed door instead of on a lumpy ass couch in a freezing ass living room right outside of Anna's bedroom.

I could be wrong here but I do 92-95% of the care around here. I care for Anna, clean up the house, cook, and do other miscellaneous things. Things that my "backup" could do in lieu of the shitty Depends or any of the other things I don't exactly like to do.

Tonight when Bojana and Chris returned from Costco, Jonesy and I unloaded the truck. Bojana brought in a couple of things then disappeared into her room. Guess who got to put the majority of things away...Bingo! Me. Bojana reappeared as I was just about to put the meats away. She said she'd do it. I had mentioned I would fry chicken after she was done as she had stuff all over the counter and stove. I went outside to smoke a cigarette with Jonesy. When I went back inside, I was met with Bojana's acid tongue. "Did you forget she needs to eat dinner? When were you going to feed her? You've been gone for 45 minutes. It's 8:15! Oh and I think she's calling you." I bit my tongue. It had only been 30 minutes and did she forget I'd been on the clock since 7 am?! It was painfully obvious to me that she had.

I went to Anna's room, changed her and got her ready for bed. When I went to take the garbage out, Bojana told me that tomorrow was Kellie's day. That she would be gettting up early and I wouldn't have to worry about a thing.

Uh yeah. What I want to know is...when does my freakin' shift end?!!!

*names have been changed for privacy

Once Upon A Time...

I'm not sure what made me click on Kevin's profile that morning. It could have been just be curiosity. Curiosity stemming from the fact that there was a woman standing with him in his profile picture? Yes, I have to be honest here - that's what made me look. But not because I still had feelings for him. I'll be perfectly truthful here, I didn't feel much of anything when I looked at his pictures. I felt nothing except...well, I'm not quite sure what to call it.

As I looked at the photos of him on his facebook profile, I barely saw the Kevin I met 22 years ago. In fact, I didn't see that Kevin at all. The All-American surfer boy was gone replaced by a tattooed man who looks hardened by life. Nothing remained of the boy I fell in love with. It made me sad - the realization that I don't even know him anymore - because at one point in my life I loved him very much. The weird thing about all of this was the fact that I hardly ever think about him anymore. Hell, I don't even think of him when I look at our son, Christian. And that's just sad.

It made me wonder if somewhere down the road maybe I will eventually end up doing the same thing when I think of Erik or Steve. I wondered if they would also fade from my memory the way Kevin had. I felt an emptiness when I realize that someone who once meant so much to me...well, that he never crosses my mind except if I hear someone mention his name. Or if, by chance, I hear a song that reminds me of our time together. But barring that, Kevin never crosses my mind.

When I looked at his photos that day, I noticed that one was taken on Father's Day. He was on a beach with a little girl who is probably about 9 years old. I assumed that she was his daughter, Alexis. As I looked at the picture, I felt slightly detatched. I wondered why I wasn't angry or hurt by this photo because when I stopped to think about it, I had only one photo of Christian and Kevin. But the photo was long gone as Erik destroyed it years ago. So the only anger I felt was directed at Erik for destroying the one thing Christian had of Kevin.

I thought about all the Father's Days that had come and gone...the ones where I always made sure Christian and I had Kevin cards and/or presents...we gave them even if we hadn't spoken to or seen him in months. I used to tell him that one day he wasn't going to get anything from Christian and I. That it'd be no one's fault but his own. He'd just give me that look, then say "Hmmmmph...yeah whatever...shut the fuck up."

After giving it much thought, I decided that I am going to shut the fuck up. Not because he told me to but because I want to...for our son Christian but most of all for myself. By shutting the fuck up, I want him to know that I harbor no ill will towards him nor do I hate him. I don't love him anymore. Do I still care for him? Maybe. But not in the sense that I think we could ever be together again because when I stop to think about it, I don't even know why I was with him in the first place. I still care for him because a long time ago, I did love him very very much. And despite everything, I cannot act like our time together did not exist. Because it did. And nothing either one of us says or does will ever change that. I guess I just want him to know that I don't want anything bad to ever happen to him. I won't bad mouth him even if I have a reason to. I just don't have it in me anymore.

Maybe I just forgive people too easy. Especially people that really don't deserve to be forgiven. I guess I'm writing this because I finally realized that I forgive not only Kevin but also myself. It's the only way I'll be able to let go so that I can finally move on.

It won't take away the times that we hurt each other nor does it make the pain go away. Those things happened and we cannot change them. But what's done is done. And life is too short for me to be pissed off at him anymore. Pissed off for the things that we could and should have done...for the things we said and didn't say...for so many things that really don't matter anymore. I just want for move forward with my life and I want the same for Kevin too.

A long time ago, on July 5, 1988, I met a boy named Kevin. Over the years, many things happened and we lost touch. I am not sure what he's doing now - I'm not sure it even matters anymore - but I hope that wherever life has taken him and whatever he is doing today, I pray that he is okay. I wish only the best for him...I really do.

25 Things About Me

1. I am an incurable romantic. I still believe that Prince Charming is going to ride up on a white horse and sweep me off my feet.

2. I detest peanut butter. The thought of it makes me want to vomit in my mouth. Don't ask me why it does, it just does. In fact, I'm going to puke right now just thinking about it.

3. I can fit my fist in my mouth.

4. I have a genius IQ.

5. Some of my best friends are people I've never seen face-to-face; we met online. They know everything about me and I trust them with my life.

6. I am a survivor of domestic violence.

7. I laugh at everything.

8. When I die, I’m going to be buried with my Uncle Jimmie at the Presidio National Cemetery in Officer’s Circle, Plot 64-11. At the time of my Uncle's interment, he was the only enlisted man buried with officers in any National Cemetery.

9. My nose has been broken more than 7 times and my two front teeth knocked out twice.

10. I transferred high schools at least twice a year. I attended 6 different high schools in 2 states before graduating from Newark-Memorial in 1988.

11. I was named after my dad's ex-girlfriend - first & middle names.

12. I believe in fate…or rather I believe it takes you to up to a certain point - where you go from there is entirely up to you.

13. The person that had the most influence on me in my life was my Uncle Jimmie. He was married to my Aunt Esta, my mom's sister.

14. I'm double-jointed.

15. I laugh uncontrollably at dick jokes and fart noises.

16. Yes, my boobs are real. No, you cannot touch them.

17. I love coca-cola.

18. I can watch the same movies over and over and over again.

19. I have six kids from 3 different men. A lot of people talk shit but that's okay. Like I've always said, "Keep talking shit about me...you're making me famous!"

20. Ever since I was a little girl, I've wanted to get married at Nottoway Plantation.

21. I believe in "paying it forward".

22. I am a felon yet 2 of my best friends are police officers.

23. One of my biggest pet peeves is having to press "1" for English. Last time I checked, I was in America. We speak English here, no?

24. My favorite place on earth is Pismo Beach.

25. I have a very low tolerance for ignorant people.

Memorial Day Weekend 2011

I wrote this two years ago:

"I just wanted to take a couple of minutes today to remember those who have fought for and defended this great nation. I also wanted to thank those who are doing so today. Words cannot express the gratitude I feel for their sacrifice. They are fighting for our freedom and our rights. It's a shame that they are not given the accolades they deserve.

They are deployed so that my sons won't get drafted.
They're away from their loved ones so that I can enjoy everyday with mine.
They count the days til they come home while I count down the days to my next vacation.
They sacrifice so much and the best I can give them is a thank you.

I just wanted everyone to know that I do not take their sacrifice lightly. I am proud of each and everyone who has served and is serving in our military. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. God bless our Troops and the United States of America."

This year I have done much reflecting especially since May 1 when President Obama announced that the United States had found & killed Osama bin Laden. I think back over the past 10 years and my heart is heavy. I hope that everyone who is celebrating Memorial Day this year understands exactly what this day means...and that they honor those men & women who have fought for and defended this great nation.

Thank you all for making the ultimate sacrifice in service of our country...God bless our Troops and God bless America.

I saw this quote tonight and it reminded me of someone I know...

"You make me understand how wonderful it is for little lizards when they find that one special rock that's perfect for sunning themselves on. You make me lizard-happy."

More Things I Hated About Him

Well yesterday I wrote 10 Things I Hated About Him. When I got to #10, I realized that I have a lot more reasons than just ten. I thought I'd get them out since it's been bothering me all night.

11. I hated the way he treated Christian. It made me sick that he could be so mean to one of my boys but treat the other one so well. It was disgusting.

12. I hated when I was 3 months pregnant with Robbie and he yelled at me "I hate you and that fucking baby inside of you! I wish you'd both just die!" That hurt more than any beating he ever gave me.

13. I hated it when I was in rehab after Jack was born and his mom told our 5 year old that I was there because "you smoked drugs when Johnny was in your tummy, Momma." I hate that he let her tell our child that but I hate it more that he didn't own up to his part in it - that he was the one sitting next to me, supplying it and smoking right next to me.

14. I hated that he wouldn't let me have friends and that he isolated me from my family too. He drove everyone away and had me believing that he was the only one who cared for me.

15. I hated that he got my best friend pregnant then wouldn't help her. I hate that on the day of her abortion he wouldn't answer her phone calls. I hate that he was so cold and uncaring about what she was going through.

16. I hated when he was in jail for a year and I had to go on welfare. He had money in the bank and when I told him I needed diapers and formula for Junior, he told me that the didn't have the money for that because he had the boat payment and boat insurance to pay for...a boat we only took out once (maybe twice) during the whole 9 years we were together.

17. I hated when he'd pick fights with me before he would fall out for 3 days at a time. He would push or slap me around and leave bruises on my body. His mom would take me home as soon as he was sound asleep. When he woke up, he'd call me and yell at me for being gone. I would tell him that I didn't have a choice but go home. When he'd pick me up and take me back, he'd see the bruises and accuse me of fucking someone else because he sure as fuck didn't put them there.

18. I hated when he got my engagement ring for me it was only because his mom's birthday was the day after mine so we went to the jeweler's to buy her a watch. After he picked it out, he told he lady behind the counter "I need to see engagement rings...lemme see that one. I just need to get her something to shut her the fuck up." I was so embarrassed and he was pissed because I told him to forget it.

19. I hated that I would ask him to buy diapers and/or formula for the boys and he'd tell me he wasn't going to. When I'd ask him why, he'd say "I'm not going to do it just because you said I have to." I'd tell him "It's not for me. This isn't about me. It's about the kids." And he wouldn't do it.

20. I hated when I asked him...not wait...I begged him to please come get me because I needed help to stop smoking meth. He said "No. You'll be okay" and didn't take me seriously. I hate that he didn't care enough to come get me when I reached out to him.

21. I hated him for allowing the kids to call Michelle "Mom" and not understanding why it upset me.

I think that's all for today because I'm completely exhausted - again - from this. Of course I'm sure that I'll think of about ten more as soon as I post this blog.

10 Things I Loved About Him

So the flip side of yesterday's 10 Things I Hated About Him is (obviously) going to be 10 Things I Loved About Him. I'm not sure if I can muster up 10 things but I will try. You never know, it might end up being like yesterday when these things kept popping up. Maybe I loved him more that I hated him. Ready...set...go!!!

1. I loved how confident he was when he was working...getting paid to bark orders at others, not in a control freak sort of way, but because he was extremely good at his job and he knew what he was doing. He never second guessed himself and he exuded confidence.

2. I loved his arms. They weren't too big, they weren't too small but just right. They were the hands of a hard working man. Big strong hands that made me feel HELD and safe and secure. I loved the way golden hairs on his forearms glistened in the sun.

3. I loved when he took me, Christian and Cody to the Claremont Hotel for a week in Berkeley after Cody's surgery. We stayed in the Tower Suite and he fed me strawberries and cream in the middle of the night. We didn't fight and actually liked each other still.

4. I loved the way he looked at me when I was pregnant with Robbie. And I mean REALLY pregnant. During my first two pregnancies, I felt bloated and fat and didn't want anyone to touch me. He made me feel like I was the most beautiful woman in the world. He'd kiss my belly and tell me "That's you and me in there, Linda. That's our baby."

5. I loved it when put his head on my chest and ask me to run my fingers through his hair. "Sing me the Memphis song, babe." He would always drift off by the end of the song.

6. I loved the way he looked after he was out in the garage welding something. And I loved the way his skin would smell and how it drove me absolutely out of my mind.

7. I loved the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his body when I put my head on his chest. It was like music to my ears and the warmest blanket on earth.

8. I loved the scent of his hair. I could bury my nose in his hair and get lost. Oh and the way his skin smelled. No cologne, nothing...just skin. God I loved that smell.

9. I loved how absolutely amazed he was watched as I gave birth to Erik Junior. He told everyone how strong I was and how my little body was amazing. He was awestruck by the whole thing.

10. I love that I find it difficult to remember the things I loved about him. It helps when I think I miss him and our time together.

This list was hard to write because I really can't remember why I loved him the way I did. But I think maybe that might be a good thing. Like I said in #10, it'll help when I miss him.

Because I could go on and on (and I probably will later) about the things I hate/d about him. And that's sad. Especially since this was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with...the man I had four children with...the man I kissed, hugged, cared for, cooked for, shared my most intimate moments with.

10 Things I Hated About Him

Even though I am in the middle of a chores, I decided to take a break and do this 10 Things I hated About Him that I found on a blog I subscribe to. I'm almost totally 100% sure I will be a mess by the time I am done with this but maybe not. [[deep breath]] Ready...set...go!!!

1. I hated when I was having a miscarriage and asked you to come to the hospital. You got off work early but instead of supporting me, you went waterskiing with your boss Ricky and turned off the cell phone.

2. I hated the way you'd let your mom tell everyone how horrible I was. Especially when she'd say things that weren't true (and you knew they weren't) yet you'd stand there and let her.

3. I hated the way you accused me of screwing anyone and everyone that came in contact with me. Didn't matter if it was a stranger, a family member, my best friend or anyone you were fixated on that day...I had to be screwing them.

4. I hate the way you pretended you had no money in the beginning and I paid for everything...only to find out months later that you had a grip of money in the bank and a pocketful of credit cards.

5. I hated the way you beat me like a man for hours when we didn't go to your Christmas party. We were supposed to meet your parents in Oakland to catch the ferry but we didn't make it because I didn't have a pair of heels. You told me to wear a pair of your mother's shoes. I said they won't fit. You punched me in the arm and made me get out of the truck at Lake Elizabeth. You drove off only to return a few minutes later. On the drive home you told me "We're not going to make it and it's your fucking fault. It's almost 2 and I figure my parents won't be back til around 11 or midnight. I'm gonna smoke that coke I've got then I'm gonna fuck you up. What the fuck am I supposed to tell them? You should've just wore my mom's fucking shoes, for Christ's sake!" and when I said I wanted to go home to my gramma's he told me "The only place you're going is straight inside and I'm gonna beat the fuck outta you." And you did. I hated that you smoked crack, then proceeded to beat the crap outta me and smashed my ring finger so bad my nailbed is forever fucked off.

6. I hated the way you broke my face so bad I couldn't leave the house for over 6 weeks. You knocked out my 2 front teeth and smashed my face with your elbow so hard that one of my teeth was embedded in it. You grabbed a handful of my hair and yelled "Fucking bitch! Look what you did to my elbow!" I hated that it took you 30 seconds before you saw what you did to my face and I hated it even more when you said you wouldn't take me to the hospital because you'd go to prison. And I hated that I looked like a monster and my kids cried because they were scared and all you were worried about was yourself. By the way, Hunter was barely 2 weeks old when this happened. God I really hated you for that.

7. I hated the way you didn't do anything when I had the abortion two days before you got arrested for domestic violence. It was a two day procedure and you didn't take me to the clinic nor would you watch Junior. On the day of the procedure, you got spun out of your mind and still didn't help or take care of me.

8. I hated the way years later (when you were half-assed with me & Michelle at the same time) when she had her breasts augmented, you called to tell me you couldn't come get me for a day or two. When I asked why you told me because you had to take care of her because she had her tits done. I hated that you couldn't understand why I was upset.

9. I hated how you called me one night from Rocklin (where you were living with Michelle but hadn't told me yet) and said you were on your way to come get me. I told you to wait because you were drunk. You showed up 2 hours later and spent 4 days with me. On the last day, we were parked in my neighbors driveway and we had sex in the back of Michelle's car. You hadn't even rolled off of me yet when you told me you were thinking about marrying her. Then you said "I can't do this...will you go with me to Rocklin so I can give her the car and get my truck and tell her that I love you and want to marry you. We can go to Reno and get married after we get my truck." I said yes and then you tell me "No. You'll be mean to her. Let me take her the truck and I'll back to get you later today." I told you "No you won't. If you don't take me now, you'll never marry me. I'm never going to see you again." You said yes you would and you'd be right back. I never saw you again. It's been over 5 years. And I hate you for that.

10. I hate the times you'd beat me within an inch of my life. Beat me like a man and choke me until my fingertips felt numb and I pissed myself and woke up on the opposite said of the house. I hated the way you wanted to have sex but wouldn't let me shower and got mad at me because I was crying. I hated that you didn't let me and still made me do it anyway.

I could probably go on and on and on. Maybe someday in the future I will continue but for now, this is enough. The thing that really gets me about making this list is how in the hell did I get out of it alive? And why did I stay with this monster for almost 9 years?

Three days in September...

There are three days in September that I keep tucked away. Three days extra with someone that was taken from me. I wish I could get them back though I don't know what difference those three days would make in the long run.


On September 11th, 2001, at 8:45 a.m., the first of two airlines struck the World Trade Center in New York, in the first of a series of coordinated terrorist attacks on the United States. At 9:03, a second plane crashed into a second World Trade Center tower, and exploded. Hundreds of New York City and Port Authority rescue personnel rushed to the scene.

At 9:43 a.m., a third passenger plane crashed into the Pentagon.

At 10:03 a.m., a fourth passenger jet crashed in western Pennsylvania.

At 10:05, the south tower of the World Trade Center collapses, plummeting into the streets below. A massive cloud of dust and debris forms and slowly drifts away from the building.

At 10:28, The World Trade Center's north tower collapses from the top down, releasing a tremendous cloud of debris and smoke.

Over the course of the next three days, I watched in horror with the rest of the world. The images I saw would forever be seared into my memory. I watched as one Missing Person poster turned into five turned into a hundred then into thousands. I watched people wander through the dust and debris looking for their loved ones. I recall feeling like I needed to do something. But not knowing what to do. On the third day, September 14, 2001, my world forever changed.


That was the day I found out someone I knew was one of the innocent victims lost on September 11. That was one of those three days in September that I lost and can never get back again. Three days that I was in suspended animation...where everything was surreal...and Nicole was still very much alive.

I sometimes try to go back to those three days and wonder if I even thought about her. I did not know she was on vacation with Ryan. I did not know she wasn't in California. Though I am almost certain I didn't think of her until John came and broke the news to me on the 14th, I still go back to those three days often. Because for 72 hours, she was still alive as far as I was concerned. That gives me 3 more days with her. At least when I miss her I can pretend it does. And that's all I really want...just a little more time with her.

Justice for Nicole

I thought I would find some sort of comfort when this day came. That I would feel some sort of relief when the person responsible for Nicole's death, as well as the deaths of almost 3,000 others, on September 11 was brought to justice. Now that this day has arrived, I feel like I have been waiting in vain.


I don't feel comforted by his death. The empty feeling in my chest is still there. It hasn't diminished in size; in fact, it might even be a little bigger. Or maybe it just feels that way because the scab has been ripped off the wound once again...and it hurts just as much (maybe even a little more) than it did almost 10 years ago. At least I think it does.

In the first three days after September 11, the events of that Tuesday morning were surreal to me. I remember thinking Good thing I live on the west coast...this couldn't possibly affect me in the slightest... I had 72 hours to watch it like millions of others, as if I was watching a movie, totally and completely unaffected by all of it. Then came September 14. That was the day my life changed. That was the day I learned that Nicole was a passenger on United Flight 93. That day my life changed forever and it will never be the same. I have Osama bin Laden to thank for it.

Tonight, at around 8:45 pm, I received an instant message from a fb friend named Grant. He said "Did you hear?" Then a few seconds later "Bin Laden is dead...they got him...turn on CNN." Today is May 1, 2011. It is almost ten years later.

Though I have waited for this day for a long time. I had thought I would find some comfort in his capture. I had thought I'd feel some sort of relief by his death. I had thought that when this day came I'd be jumping for joy. But the truth of the matter is I'm not dancing in the streets and I've felt nothing except anxious. Anxious because they aren't going to go away quietly and I'd bet a million dollars that they're already grooming someone to take his place. As much as I hate to say it, I'm anxious because I am anticipating their next move.

Am I glad he was found? Yes. Am I happy he's dead? Not really. I'd rather he'd been taken alive. Am I going to cheer in the streets and dance around because he is dead? No. Some people have asked me "Why not?" If I did, then I'd be no different than the Palestinians danced in the street and passed out candy after the 9/11 attacks. I am better than that...most of the time, that is. I won't lie; there have been many times since 9/11 that I wished OBL to be drawn and quartered. Or something equally as gruesome and painful. But try as I might to hate the way he hated, I can't. The closest I can get to that is the part of me that is happy he is no longer breathing. This is the same part of me that thinks the world is a better place because he is no longer a part of it. Do I think the world is a safer place now that he's gone? No. What scares me the most is that it seems to me that a lot of Americans think his death means GAME OVER. And it's not. Not by a long shot.

I've come to the conclusion that maybe this is why this day hasn't brought me any comfort or any relief. Nothing really has changed. The death of Osama bin Laden will not bring any of the nearly 3,000 people back that were killed that day. My beautiful friend, Nicole Miller, will never again walk into a room and make everything seem okay with her million dollar smile. I will never hear her laughter again...never hear that sound again in this lifetime.

NICOLE C. MILLER
Sunrise
March 4, 1980
Sunset
September 11, 2001


People say that time heals all wounds. Once again, I say they are full of shit. It's been almost a decade and time hasn't healed a damn thing. And neither has the death of OBL. I don't think I'll ever find any relief and I have the sinking suspicion that it is because I don't ever think anything will ever bring justice as far as Nicole and 9/11 are concerned.

At least not for me.

goodbye my friend...

Steven Anthony Lavelle

Sunrise

December 24, 1968

Sunset

April 10, 2011

You can shed tears that he is gone,

Or you can smile because he lived,

You can close your eyes and pray that he will come back,

Or you can open your eyes and see all that he has left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see him

Or you can be full of the love that you shared,

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,

Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember him and only that he is gone

Or you can cherish his memory and let it live on,

You can cry and close your mind,

Be empty and turn your back,

Or you can do what he would want:

Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

Oops! My bad...

It seems that I forgot to mention the exact reason Erik called in the first place. So Alana this is for you:

Our son Robbie was being disrespectful to a girl and also to his stepmother on facebook. I told him that he needed to apologize to both of them. Erik told him to pull his head out of his ass. Erik wanted me to tell him that Michelle wasn't trying to be mean, blah, blah, blah.

The twisted thing about all of this is I had already come to her defense. I had already told Robbie that what he wrote was not cool. I told my son it was wrong to disrespect woman that broke up our little family...the woman who has (as far as I know) never once defended me. And who, even after all the years that have gone by, still probably wouldn't anyway. Yes, I had already told Robbie to apologize before Erik had called me. I told him to say sorry because it was wrong for him to talk to any person - male or female - that way.

I think sometimes Robbie expects me to take his side no matter what because it has to do with Michelle. And not because she's married to his dad. Or I've ever badmouthed her to my kids because I have not. I don't say things under my breath nor have I ever approached her or caused a scene in front of my children. I may not like Michelle but I am civil to her because she is my boys' stepmother. Which is why he needs to respect her. What happened between Michelle, Erik and myself has nothing to do with my kids as far as I'm concerned.

But somehow, I'm still the bad guy in this whole scenario. And you know what? I probably always will be. No matter how much I've changed for the better, it will always go unnoticed. I'm not too sure how to feel about this. Because after giving it some thought, my accomplishments over the past five years far outweigh the disappointments. I've not been in trouble with the law in 5 years. Yet Erik has been arrested several times. No one talks about that. And God forbid I mess up; it'd get thrown in my face faster than a duck on a June bug.

They say the best revenge is looking good and living well...I think I've got that covered, don't you?

Little too late...

I've been trying to figure out why I'm so bothered by Erik calling me yesterday. Maybe it's because for the last five years, I can count on one hand the number of times he's called me to discuss our kids. He's just started calling in November. Not one word from him in about three years then out of the blue, he calls me on Thanksgiving to tell me our boy Robbie is heading down the wrong path.

It's always bothered me that Erik and I have not been able to discuss our children. There are a couple of reasons for this. The first is because his wife is very insecure and would throw a fit if she even thought we were communicating. Second his mother would give me a hard time and not let me see my boys if she suspected there was any contact between us. She used to tell me "You must not be doing as well as you say if you're calling Erik." Of course since I was persona non grata, everything was always my fault. It was my fault if they argued, it was my fault if he didn't come home, it was my fault when I called his new cell phone - it was still my fault even after I asked "How in the hell is it my fault I called him? How do you think I got the number in the first place? I got the number because he called me first!!" Of course it was still my fault. When I asked why it was a problem for me to talk to him, I was told that since the kids are with my ex in-laws then there was no reason I had to speak to Erik. I was also asked why was I trying to break up their marriage. Gee, I thought, I don't recall anyone making a big deal when Michelle was breaking up Erik & I...how fucking hypocritical is that?! The last reason it bothers me is because he's finally making an effort to be a dad like I always wanted but as far as I'm concerned it's a little too late.

I guess I'm angry because I spent almost 9 years with him. During that time, we had our ups and downs. I'm not going to point fingers and blame everything on him. I wasn't always easy to live with especially since I was totally addicted to meth the whole time we were together. At the time, I justified smoking with the way he treated me. I had to smoke everyday. It was the only way I could put up with his crap and deal with his mom/my gramma/life and take care of the boys all at the same time. Besides, he was smoking right next to me. Oh and did I mention he's an alcoholic? Two addicts + domestic violence = DISASTER

I had to go into a residential drug treatment program after Jack was born. As I got sober, I was told that I might not even like Erik anymore. I remember thinking Who in the fuck do these bitches think they are to tell me I'm not going to like him when I'm sober?! But it ended up being the truth. They were right 100% because I really didn't like him at all. Not one bit.

Of course we were only sober (both of us at the same time) for maybe 4 or 5 months. Four months out of 9 years...which is disgusting. During the course of our relationship, he never really did anything to help with the kids. No wait! I take that back. He did help out in the very beginning...when Robbie was a baby until I got pregnant with Junior, he was a great dad. That lasted until Robbie's first birthday...the birthday party that Christian, Cody and I were not invited to.

That was the first of many events I've been excluded from. The thing that's pretty fucked up thing is that I was excluded even when we were still together...long before Michelle came along.

For the past five years, I've had to hear about how happy he and Michelle are. How great he treats her...that he's not drinking or doing drugs...that they go to family functions - Kaelin family functions AND her family functions. I have to hear how he goes to work everyday and supports his little family. He does all the things I used to beg him to do with me and he does them willingly.

You'd never know that this was the same man that used to beat me like a man...that used to not go to work for months on end because he had to be the Norma Police...the same man who broke my nose more that six times and knocked out my two front teeth twice...the same man that once elbowed my face with such force that one of my teeth was embedded in his elbow but still wouldn't take me to a hospital. But he was that man...he was the same one who made sure the boat payment and insurance was paid while he was in jail but couldn't buy his kids formula or diapers because I told him he had to. And he was the same man that wouldn't help me after having an abortion or even after I gave birth to one of our 4 children but that took care of Michelle after she got a boob job. As much as it hurts and bothers me to admit it, this is that same man.

When I think back to these things and he calls out of the blue to ask me to talk to our oldest son, I have a hard time dealing with the all the feelings that come up. Especially since I'd thought I was past feeling anything where Erik is concerned. He was clearly the wrong person for me; yet I am thankful for him because without him, I wouldn't have my babies. Half the time, I'm sorry I wasted my time but I have my kids because of him so how can that be wasted time? I am sorry I let him hurt me for as long as I did. And I'm sorry that I believed all of his lies. But I know that it's because of his lies that I am a strong woman today.

So I'm thinking that's what I have to remember the next time he calls me out of the blue. I'm going to be the one who will wind up on top. It might be a little too late for him but it's not too late for me.

Caller ID, dog piss and mixed feelings about unwanted phone calls from my shitty ex...

So yesterday after Jessica left for work, I was in the garage smoking a cigarette while Kurac was sniffing around for a spot to take a piss. My phone rings and I look down at the caller ID. It said:

"Incoming Call
Erik Kaelin (mobile)"

I answered it and talked to him for approximately 10 minutes about our son Robbie. Now I've had a little over 24 hours to think about this but I'm not sure how I feel about him calling me.

What I do know is I'm going to take a shower, wash the smell of Kurac's piss off me and hopefully I won't still be pissy when I'm done. Either way, I'll let you know as soon as I ponder this a little more.

I found this...

I found this when I was going through files on my 'puter:

It seems to me that I’ve had to deal with death a lot in the last month or two. First with September 11 and Nicole…then a couple of days later when Uncle Nick passed away…I received an e-mail in October from someone that wanted to talk to me about Nicole for a project he’s doing on the passengers of Flight 93. Then yesterday I get a text from Wade that Barry, his dad, passed away on his (Wade’s) birthday, November 1.

If I say that I’m tired of thinking about death and losing people, that wouldn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I’m going through right now. I guess I’d forgotten how much it hurts when you first learn someone you care about has died.

As I sit here typing, this is the first time I’ve had to process that fact that Barry has died. I do not know the details as I’ve not spoken to Wade yet. We’ve only exchanged texts. But it’s almost like I don’t want to talk to him because then he’ll say out loud what I already know. And as much as I knew this day was coming, maybe if Wade doesn’t say it…well maybe it’s not true.

Okay so I talked to Wade for a second. For once in 23 years, I do not know what to say to him. I tell him I'm sorry I didn't call him sooner and I tell him that I hadn't seen this beginning of his text. Then I just sit there, sniffling, and mumble something like "I can't believe I don't even know what to say."

The last time I saw Barry was over Memorial Day weekend when I went down there and stayed for a week. He looked good. We sat like we always did and talked. I loved Barry since the first time I met him when I was 18 years old. He was a character, to say the least, with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes...the same ones he passed on to his son, Wade.

I wrote that on November 5, 2010. Barry had been gone for only 4 days. It's now April 10, 2011. So it's been roughly 5 months and 9 days...161 days...3,849 hours...230,400 minutes...13,824,000 seconds.

You know I really miss Barry. I miss talking to him and his stories about when he was married to Susan and when he was young living in Mexico with his Sugar Momma. I miss the comfort of knowing that even if Wade was mad at me or I hadn't talked to the Stevers in years, I'd always have a home in Pismo Beach to go to...all I had to do was just walk around to the back patio through the iceplants, hop the fence and knock on the back door because Barry'd always let me in. Whenever I'd say goodbye to him, he'd always ask me "Where are you going?" before hugging me. And I'd answer "I've got to go home, Barry." To which he always replied "But you are home." No matter how much time had passed between us, the Stevers always made me feel at home. And I love them for that.

About 2 years ago when I was in Pismo Beach visiting, Wade and I were sitting in the garage talking about Barry. I was telling him how Barry was telling me about the little Mexican senorita he'd fallen in love when he was in his 20s and lived in Mexico with his Sugar Momma and about how much he loved to surf. Wade chuckled as he told me "You know what, Linda? If there was a way for Barry to surf and keep his cigarette lit, he'd still be out there everyday...surfing, smoking and pulling hot Mexican chicks. That's the only reason he's still not doing it...his cigarette won't stay lit."

I'm really miss you, Barry J. Stever. I really do.