Bullet Format

• I have to show this to someone....anyone really. I took this two weeks ago on my brief trip home. I forgot how much I love that sign.
  

• Dug and I will officially be commencing the co-habitation program on August 1. I'm very excited. I also leave on August 1st for a 10-day trip to Jordan. I can safely say that the first ten days of us living together will be very uneventful.

• Speaking of Jordan....how stoked am I? It's been a few years since I've had the opportunity to travel outside of the country. And I've never had the chance to go to the Middle East. I'm hoping for an eye-opening experience

• Still on the job hunt. Don't want to talk about it.

• One of my favorite bloggers just posted some of her 20-week ultrasounds. I'm so very excited for her. However....and this is a tiny insignificant freakout....part of nursing school is learning how to read ultrasounds. And I think I got a peek at the gender of the wee one. I might have to stop reading her blog.

• I've become obsessed with this site. If you love me, you could gift me with anything therein.

• Dug and I have decided to get a kitten. I think our line of thinking is that if we can keep a kitten alive, happy, and healthy, in a few years we might venture into big and better things. Like, you know, plants.

Not Posting

I have purposely not posted in a few days for several reasons. First, and probably the biggest reason was my irrational desire to not post anything that was too negative. I wanted a positive, and happy, upbeat even blog. *snort* I have realized that life is not positive, happy, and upbeat all of the time.

Second reason is that I feel depressed. Am I clinically depressed? Probably, but again, since losing the job I don't have health insurance, so I can't really run right out and go to good old crazy doc. So I must deal in any way that I know how. And you might be curious to know how I've been dealing with this. In one word: torture. Not the kind that involves water-boarding, cutting off of the toes, and such. No, no, no....I'm much more devious then that. I prefer the kind of mental torture that I can only hear in my head. I really wish that I could take some of the self-loathing that I can create in my head and bottle it. I could then sell it to convicts and I am almost positive that it could make them go straight and become normal, functioning members of society.

The problem is that not only do I torture myself, I tend to torture Dug as well. I've put the poor kid through a lot for no reason. He's a good man for sticking by me through all of this, but heaven only knows how much more the guy can take. He deserves a good person, and I feel like my good person is slipping farther and farther away.

So, as you can see, I'm having a rough time. I haven't been posting because I am not sure that I am ready to share that with the world. But here it is, in all back and white.

If you are independently wealthy....

I need this.

http://www.yankodesign.com/index.php/2008/01/14/a-persian-puzzle/

Sugar High

Maybe the cutest thing ever.

The StepMonster

When I was five my parents got divorced. My father got full custody of both my three-year old sister and myself. And my mother....well, my mother got nothing. In fact, I saw my mother a grad total of 3 times between the time I was five and six-months after my 18th birthday. There were many circumstances that caused that, including my move overseas with my father who worked for the State Department. I don't hold a grudge towards either one of them for any of those years. Like so many other things, it happened, it cannot be changed, let's just move on.

Three years after my father's divorce he remarried a wonderful woman. Well, not so wonderful a the time. I have always been rebellious, and hard-headed. I used those attributes to make my stepmother's life very difficult. In fact, I was such a problem child and caused her and my father so many headaches that by the time I was 16, they couldn't handle me and sent me to live with my Aunt Caryn (she is by far the most amazing woman on this planet and deserves a post all of her) in North Carolina.

Throughout those years things between my stepmother and I were strained, but also shared some really wonderful memories. However in my heart I think I felt like I was betraying my birth mother by calling my stepmother "Mom." In every sense of the word, she was my mom. She stayed up late with me when I was sicks, came to band concerts, took me shopping for my first bra, all the things that Mom's do for their children. Still I felt like I was betraying a memory if I was to call her "Mom."

Eventually it became impossible for me not to call her "Mom." However I need someway to easily tell the difference between her (my stepmother) and my Mom (my birth mother.) So I called my stepmother, the StepMonster. Somehow I got away with calling her that behind her back for years. She never found out.

Around the time I graduated for high school and went off to college, the relationship I had with my StepMonster changed. We became closer, we got to really know one another, and created a bond that is still going strong to this day. I eventually told her about the nickname and too my surprise she laughed. I occasionally refer to her as the StepMonster only because it is an easy way to explain who I am speaking about, but it hold no malice like it used to. I can say that the StepMonster has been there for me more times then anyone else. And I love her for it.

A Fork in the Road

One of my favorite bloggers has recently announced her pregnancy, and I can't express how excited I am for her. Another of my favs is expecting her third next Wednesday. And another wonderful set of parents just recently welcomed a beautiful daughter. I've been surrounded recently with babies, and people professing their desire for children recently and it has raised a few questions in my own mind.

It's an amazing, awe-inspiring responsibility to be able to bring a child into the world. And I for one know that I am not ready for that responsibility. I can't even remember where I put the cord to my camera, what makes you think I remember where I put a baby? I have no doubts that I were blessed with a child right now I would handle the responsibility. It would be difficult, and stressful, but quite possibly the most important thing I've ever done. Even with that conviction, I know that I am no where near ready.

I recently quit my job. I am in the process of looking for a new one, and I think I pretty much have one all wrapped up at somewhere very impressive. (Details will be forth coming just as soon as I am sure it's a done deal.) In addition to that, I have also gone back to school to pursue my RN. I want to help people, and feel like I make a difference. If you know me at all, you know that I don't do thing half-heartly. I am, in fact, not only pursuing my RN, I am planning on pursuing my Masters Degree as well in the same field. This is all well and good you see, but it make me wonder when will I have the time to start my own family.

You see, I want to be a nurse, and do the best that I can in that field. And doing the best requires lots of schooling. I'm willing to go through all the schooling necessary to get there. However, I know this is a huge demand on time, money and emotional resources. And with so much of me already committed to that, where am I going to find the time to make a marriage, a baby, and a family work? Do I really have to choose between them? How do we decide which part of our life should take precedence?

I'm hoping that I wont have to decide. I'm hoping that things will work out in their own sweet time, and leave me wondering why I ever began to stress in the first place.

The first rule of Flight Club....

While this blog is in it's infancy, I am by no means new to the blogging community. I've followed several blogs for upwards of two years now. (Random side note: Is it weird that I can tell you what has been happening to several individuals in the Richmond area even though I have never met them, and have no clue what they look like?) And since quitting my job, I've found that I have a huge expanse of extra time on my hands. So what's a girl to do with all that extra time?

Torture her boyfriend.

Just kidding. I think.

Spend all of her extra time sitting around reading other people's blogs and thinking about starting her own of course. And this nightly quasi-stalking ritual that I go through each night brought me up to speed on a very interesting conversation that has been going on at one of my favorite local blogs. RVANews posted an item about the recent lockdown of the University of Richmond's campus. I'm not going to get into the specifics of comments and the level to which is was escalated. If you are that interested, I provide you a link for heaven's sake, go check it out.

However, this particular argument/back and forth brought a very important question to mind for me. How do you accept opinions for other folk when you sincerely feel that you are right? You have to know the type of argument that I am talking about. You have an opinion that is radically different from someone else, and they refuse to accept or even acknowledge that you have a justifiable argument. Aggravating? Sure. Impossible? Maybe. Can it be overcome? Egh....therein lies the problem.

When are the opinions we hold so correct that we can't even accept that they are being challenged? And what are we supposed to do when we would rather smack someone in the face then listen to their dribble for another second? I personally have a problem with this. I really have to step outside of my mind and realize that someone might, (might being the keyword here) be right. But *gasp* that would mean that I was wrong.