In the Moooood

I have been in the mood to write (all this NaNo talk must have worn off on me!) The only problem is that I don't know what to write!? I usually write when something specific comes to me or I get a writing prompt. So here, I sit w/ inspiration, but no subject.

Looking for inspiration, I decided to go back over some of my older writings and share one (for now, maybe more later) with you guys. Maybe putting this out there will inspire a story. *crossing fingers*

Before you read, I want to you imagine a face. A blank face. Void of all color, except for the blood red lips. Void of all expression. With deep set, empty eyes. Silent tears stream down the stilled cheeks. The face is upturned toward the stars begging for peace...

Mystic Eyes

As I look through these mystic eyes to the heavens above,
I know I see you look down upon me.
Through the holes were my eyes once were,
I see the invisible love that you gave to me.
With my cold, stiff body,
I feel the warmth from your heart.
When my thin, bony fingers touch yours,
I experience all that you have in the past.
For the salty tears that fell then dried and my blood red lips that quivered,
I cried them for you after I discovered I couldn't live without you.





Now, on cometh the brainstorm! *closes eyes*

Now, on cometh the Brainstorm! *eyes still closed clutching pen and paper*

I SAID,

Now, On Cometh The BRAINSTORM!!! *huffing & tossing down paper and pen*

Fine, obviously my brainstorm didn't get the memo, but I shall keep on trying! (psst! Hey, you guys! Do YOU have any suggestions on something you've been wanting written? I'll give everything a try at least once!)

Hmmmmmmm...........

*anxiously waiting*
SBGDGT

Twilight and my Pretzel Art

Preztel Art


What the hell is Pretzel Art? Well, it started when my very OCD mind was eating some pretzels. You see, I have to go through a bag and eat all the broken ones first while placeing the whole ones aside in another bag. Only after all the broken ones are gone can I go eat the rest. During my picky food-eating habit I noticed that some of the broken pretzels formed letters. I then procceeded to set aside the letters, chew/break/gnaw the rest of the letters I needed and spell out my name.

I was so fucking proud of myself! *Beaming Brightly*


Then the new tradition! Spell out my name first. (Because sometimes, the pretzels break and the letter doesn't count if you have to hold it together.) Then, eat the broken ones, finally the whole ones.


I slowly figured out that I can make all the letters of my alphabet except for "K". Fuckin' "K"! Of course it doesn't want to cooperate! Of crouse it has to be one little bitch in my OCD fun pretzel time. Well, Fuc_ that letter! I don't need it anway *grumbling to self*


So, eventually I started spelling out my friends names and sending them as a fun little name tags :) Seeing as all of you stuc_ with me through those last two, buc_-ass na_ed, soul spilling posts, I wanted to lighten things up and _eep them light for the next 2 yrs or so! Lol

*Grabs microphone* *tap tap*

Is this thing on?

*blowing into it*

Testing. Testing. Shit this thing isn't wor_ing!
*banging it into my palm the magic number of 3 times*

Oh well...

*Clearing throat & spea_ing REALLY LOUD*

Hello! I want to welcome you to...

*stranger approaches with a wic_ed croo_ed smile*

Ummmm.... (fuc_, what was I saying?)

*stranger switches mic on and win_s*

*collective giggles and big blush*

*staring at green-eyed stranger*

(must read his name tag... Jac_sper? Wow!)

Well, that was embarassing... *aw_ward laugh*

Hello! I want to welcome all of you to my Pretzel Art Show featuring Twilight and some of SBGDGT's friends. So please, sit bac_ and enjoy the clic_able show!

*blushing and turning mic OFF*

(I know there is no Brea_ing Dawn, but I can't half-ass do a word so I just left if off completely)

For stic_ing with me through that very blac_ moment with all

your words of encouragement and wonderful hugs:

*grabs mic and turns it ON*

Than_ you so much for coming out tonight!

I hope you enjoyed my show as much as I enjoyed eating it!

*whispers*

Did any one notice what I did?

*giggles at my sly protest of pretzel bitch*

Big Girl Panties and a Confession

Well, I had this fuckawesome post about wondermus, gory Horror Movies, but instead I got a bit sidetracked and now feel the need to explain. I hear that my last post was a tad bit confusing and yes it was pretty cryptic. :-/ Hmm... I'm sorry.

I am pulling on my big girl panties and while I am about as far away from Catholicism as possible, I am here for confession...

You all have heard me say that I have 3 wonderful kiddos. NO? Well, here read this and while you're there, leave a comment! I'll wait...

*humming Jeopardy* Damn song gets stuck in my head every fuckin' time!

Welcome back!

Ok, so now you know; I have 3 babies. This is the first time I have ever talked about this, so please forgive me, I have had a bit (a lot) of liquid courage.

Here is the MAJORLY shortened version:

I have not seen or talked to my oldest son, he's 11 now, in more than 3.5 yrs, since I was 7 months pregnant w/ my baby girl. There was an assault involved at that time. We had a NASTY custody battle. One in which all the family law lawyers in our area knew the name. One which involved too much fuckin' money, several lawyers, numerous CPS cases, countless police, and one previously mentioned assault. Even in the YEARS prior to this (yes, years), I had limited time w/ him. I "lost" my son when he was 3.5. Why? B/c the shit head knew it was the only way to hurt me. He was right.

That said, that post was directed at my ex. You see, I don't typically go looking for the diseased fuck hole. I simply live my life. But on occasion, I get a little reminiscent, and I want to see something, anything, about my son. When I signed up for Twitter, I wanted to see if I could find him, so I entered in his email address. I wasn't paying attention and I invited him to follow me on Twitter instead of searching for him by his email *smacks head into wall repeatedly for 7 minutes*

Twitter links to my blog.

I almost deleted my Twitter, but decided that was fuckin' retarded. I do that and he wins.

So I did NOT delete my Twitter.

I did NOT un-link my blog.

I am standing up and owning myself. I know he is prowling out there and I wanted to give him a message.

I really miss my son. Some days are better than others. I just see so much of him in my middle son and it starts the memories flowing. Even though my middle son never really knew my oldest, he still calls him "my brother." And what makes me really sad is that my oldest always said he wanted a baby sister. Well, he gets a baby sister and has never even met her. *uber sigh* I have gotta quit while I'm ahead...

Does that make a little more sense now? I hope it explains a bit more.

So, you still ready for that ass whoopin? He deserves it! sjAimee, bring all ya got! We can tag team him! Not in the fun, pervy way, but in the WWE, CM Punk, John Cena, Triple H kind of way.

On your mark. Get Set... GO!

*fight ensues* including but not limited to: kicking, junk punching, eyeball plucking, nose stomping, and junk punching round 2.

A Sober Edit:

W/in all the drunken explanation and fighting, I realized I forgot to add The Confession. (Well, besides that I kinda cyber-stalked my ex.) My Confession: This was my choice. After fighting my ex for 4 years, I couldn't do it any more. During that time, I got married, had my other son after being placed on bed rest from stress, and was pregnant again w/ my daughter. You can imagine the strain that has on a marriage, then add thousands of $$ of lawyer debt and dr bills to top it off. I had a choice.

1. Keep fighting for my oldest child. Lose my husband. Lose myself. Hurt my other son. Hurt my unborn child if my ex lost his temper again. (I'm lucky the assault was not on me, but I was there and it could have easily been me.) I could continue to allow my oldest son to be torn between me and his dad. I could continue to allow his dad to use him as a tool to hurt me. Hell, he wasn't even allowed to call me Mommy...

2. I could let go. I could hope that his life wouldn't be as crazy when he isn't being coached into lying and hating me. I could try to make a normal life for my other two children, husband, and family.

"All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on." ~H Ellis

There are days when I regret many things, but then I remember I cannot regret them. Those choices gave me my children. Those choices made me who I am today.

I have lost so many important people in my life not by my choice. This. This was my choice. And believe me when I say it was and still is the hardest one I have ever had to make. I gave up my visitation, but not my rights. I was supposed to be able to call him on his b-day and Christmas. They never answered.

I always wonder how his life is now. I hope he is well. I dream of him knocking on my door and knowing him instantly, because I will never forget his eyes. They are blue with a tiny spot of brown in his right one. And, I will never forget that crooked grin. But until that day...

... I'll keep dreaming.

Throwing This Out There. Sorry, friends.

Hello, You. You know who. Yes, YOU! Like what you've found? Well, I guess I did gift wrap it for you. I might be a little naive sometimes, but I am not stupid. I'm curious as to what's bouncing around in that head of yours right now. On second thought, I don't give a rat's shitty asshole.

I want you to know that I might breakdown sometimes, but I am not broken. You have failed. You. Did. Not. Break. Me. You only made me stronger. You will NEVER be able to comprehend how much love I have in my heart for him.

Even now.

Especially now.

A friend recently brought a wonderful quote to my attention (ty, for sharing this):

"All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on."
~H. Ellis

I might still be working on finding that perfect balance, but I already chose what I let go of and what I am still holding on to. I cannot forget and will never let go or stop loving him, no matter what you try to do.