Thursday, October 29, 2009


My good friend and faithful reader, Sally was driving down a busy local road that was covered with wet leaves earlier this week. A voice in her head told her to slow down and she did. The car next to her did not. That car slid on the leaves and hit two oncoming cars head on. Needless to say, Sally was quite rattled by this experience.

I believe we receive signs all the time. I also believe many times we choose not to heed those signs; we choose not to listen to that voice in our head. Often we are so busy we may not even realize we're being given a sign. If God is trying to tell us something big, he may present us with a whole series of signs. If we resist what He is trying to tell us, we'll probably get a bigger sign that is harder to ignore.

Sally drove on that day and picked up her two children. She gave them both a tight hug. Since Sally is probably the most intuitive person I know, she shouldn't have much trouble figuring out what that sign meant to her. It may have meant something different to the guy driving the car; and something else to the woman who was walking down the street and wittnessed the whole thing. One sign may mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people who receive it.

Stay in tune with your body, mind, and spirit. Listen to the messages you are being given. When you are spared from tragedy, embrace it and learn from it.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Silly Stuff

Well, back to work tomorrow, but it's been a great two weeks off. I got my house in order, I did some shopping, I took some naps, I spent two Fridays with my husband! It was just what I needed.

Yesterday I caught a movie just coming on and had to watch it because it has some classic, classic scenes; City Slickers with Billy Crystal. He and his two buddies take a guys trip every year to unwind and cut loose. Billy's character hates his job, and is having a mid-life crisis. One day he goes to his son's school for career day. As he stands in front of the room of elementary school kids this is what he says:

"Value this time in your life kids. Cause this is the time in your life when you still have your choices. And it goes by so fast. When you're a teenager you think you can do anything and you do. Your 20's are a blur. 30's you raise your family, you make a little money, and you think to yourself "what happened to my 20's?"
40's you grow a little pot belly, you grow another chin. The music starts to get too loud, one of your old girlfriends from high school becomes a grandmother. 50's you have a minor surgery. You'll call it a procedure but it's a surgery. 60's you'll have a major surgery--the music's still too loud but it doesn't matter because you can't hear it anyway. 70's you and the wife retire to Ft. Lauderdale. You start eating dinner at 2:00 in the afternoon. You have lunch around 10:00, and breakfast the night before. You spend most of your time wandering around the mall looking for the ultimate soft yogurt, muttering "How come the kids don't call? How come the kids don't call?" The 80's you'll have a major stroke. You end up babbling to some Jamaican nurse your wife can't stand but you end up calling Mama. Any questions?"

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

It Was A Very Good Year

In the summer of 1991 I was 27 years old. I had been divorced for a year. I had been living back home with my parents during that year and I was in the process of buying a little house of my own. My relationship with Michael had just ended. I was offered a promotion at work which would require moving from our main office and managing a branch office near my home. The stress of moving out on my own for the first time in my life, starting a new job, and not having a steady man in my life was both very thrilling and very stressful at first. Then I got the knack of it.

This is about the time my short-lived second round with Chris W. occurred. Remember, I mentioned he helped me move into my little house. I was going out on casual dates with assorted people who asked me out or who I was "fixed up" with. Nothing serious. This would be the start of a wonderful time in my life. I was independent for the first time. I had a decent paying job, my own little house, and a nice car. I was beautiful. I was in the prime of my life. Thin, with long blonde hair. I was confident, and I didn't "need" anyone.

I've never thrown out my calendar from 1991. Still have it. I wrote all my dates on there, and all the fun things I was doing with my girlfriends too. I started going to bars for the first time in my life. Forget the dance clubs, I loved going out to see bands. I usually hung out with girlfriends on Thursday and Friday nights, and had dates on Saturdays. It was a great year. Everyone should have that much fun in their lives, at least for awhile.

Kitty and I had known each other for a couple of years by this point, but we bonded during that time. We ran around all summer, just having fun. The nine year age difference between us was quite appropriate because I had missed out on a lot of years, so socially we were in the same place. At the end of that summer she introduced me to her brother who of course is now my husband. Life knew it wasn't quite the right time for us though, and it would be several months before we would get together.

I dated a lot of people between Summer 1991 and Summer 1992. A couple that were noteworthy. I'll save those stories for later.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Fly Me To The Moon

I always said that I would wait until the right moment to leave my first husband. I said I never wanted to look back and have regrets. But at that point in my life, no matter how miserable I'd become, I wasn't ready to jump without a safety net. Enter into my life Michael.

Michael and I worked together. He was 19 years old when I first met him. I was 25 and in the throws of a miserable marriage. Michael and I became friends but as my marriage began to crumble before my eyes I started to feel more. We'd go to lunch and Michael would tell me how beautiful I was. He told me how I didn't deserve the punishment that I was living. This eventually gave me the strength I needed to make that final decision to end my marriage.

Michael and I started seeing each other....alot. By now he was 20 and I was 26. Dating a young man who was 6 years my junior was just exactly what the doctor ordered. Every time Michael saw me or called me on the phone he said "Hey Beautiful!" And the sex....well, I've purposely avoided discussing that topic in this "Kiss and Tell" series, but it would be completely impossible for me to tell the Michael Story and not mention it. I shall try to refrain from mentioning it with any other man I discuss, but for this story I have to. The sex was insane. Bodies sweating, shit flying off the walls, knock-everything-off-a-desk kind of sex. I'm quite sure we'd have both gotten fired if we'd been caught doing some of the things we did at work. I had seven years of repressed emotions inside me. Four of which I spent thinking I was inadequate and undesirable. Thinking I was a bad wife. Thinking I didn't deserve happiness. Well, Michael was a passionate young man and the year I spent with him erased all that. I was becoming confident and Mary came back to life!

Michael and I spent one wonderful year together. Shortly after a long weekend in St. Louis he suddenly broke things off with me. No warning at all--just broke it off. He had turned 21 and wanted to go out to the bars with his friends and just didn't want to have to "ask permission" or answer to anyone. Because of how unexpected this was, it was probably the worst my heart has ever been broken. I didn't see it coming. I had unwisely put all my eggs in Michael's basket and for the first time in my life I found myself without a safety net. No one waiting in the wings to catch me. Mary Bailey was a free, single woman. And she was scared to death.

Michael was the best thing that could have possibly happened to me at that particular time in my life. We could never have made a life together, really, but I will always love him. He picked me up and flew me to the moon when I needed it most. The confidence I found in myself the year I spent with Michael would stay with me forever.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

The Day My Mother Died

It was a pretty Spring Saturday morning. I was making out a grocery list and planning out my day when my Dad called. I answered the phone and he said "I just came home and found your mother in the floor. I've called 911. I don't know what to do". I asked my Dad if she was breathing, he said yes. I said "I'm on my way" and I grabbed my keys and hopped in the car.

During the 5 minute drive to my parent's house I somehow knew this was going to be "it". My mother had been plagued for more than 20 years (since her early 50's) with one thing after another. She had survived not one, but two brain aneurysms requiring two brain surgeries, two heart attacks requiring two open heart surgeries, and an injury from a fall which developed into a large hematoma on her back that kept her in the hospital for about 6 weeks. I started leaving voice messages for my sister and I just kept driving.

When I got to the house, the ambulance was already there. I went in and found the EMTs working on my mother who was laying in the floor in her housecoat, partly in the hallway, partly in the bathroom. She was unresponsive but still alive. She had a wet wash cloth next to her. They kept asking us if she could have overdosed on her meds because her vitals were good. Somehow Dad and I both knew it was her brain.

Dad had only been gone about 15 minutes. He had gone to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription. When he got back he rang the doorbell but she didn't come. He started calling the house from his cell phone and she didn't answer so he broke in. He'd always said his worst fear was to come home one day and find her like this and it had happened.

They took mom to the hospital where she'd gone so many times before. Dad insisted on driving himself and I followed. We didn't drive fast, just regular. There wasn't anything we could do.

They got her in a bed at the ER and while we were waiting for tests to come back the EMT driver approached us with some papers to sign. When he walked away he said "I'm sorry". I guess he knew too.

The neurologist assigned to my mother told us she had a blood clot in her brain. It measured 3 cm. They were going to start her on meds to see if they could shrink the clot. Even if they were successful they said she would likely have brain damage but it was possible she could survive. They said they would scan her again the next morning to see if they had any luck.

The rest of that day we had visitors; friends and family who came to comfort us. I remember some of it but not everything. Scarlett was there. Kitty brought a bag full of provisions, Kleenex, notepad and pen, yummy snacks. My cousins from the country came up. I guess I was on auto pilot.

I knew my mom didn't want to die but I also knew she was at peace with dying. She had told me that a year before when she had her second bypass surgery following her second heart attack. But she wanted to live to see her great grandson be born, which she did. She had told me then that if anything happened to her she wanted me to look out for Dad. I promised her I would. She also told me that under no circumstances should she be buried wearing anything pink. I assured her it would be my priority for her to look good.

We all went home that night to sleep. When we came in the next morning they had already scanned her. The medication had not worked. The clot had grown from 3 cm to 9 cm. They told us at that point there was no hope and that Mom would die in the next few hours. Mom's longtime doctor came in to see us. I told him how much she loved him. All Mom's friends came to see her one last time. She had never regained consciousness, but they all talked to her, they held her hand, they cried. I told her I remembered everything she had told me and not to worry; I would take care of Daddy. I told her how much I loved her and that she was a good mother. I told her it was okay to go. Just go be at peace. It was a long, hard day.

Night time came and my Dad insisted we all go home to rest. My sister was staying at my house. About an hour after we got home my Dad called to say he had received a call from the hospital. There had been a change and they thought we should all come back. I asked Dad if he wanted my sister and me to come by to get him. Once again, he wanted to drive himself. I remember the drive back over there. My sister and I didn't say much. I kept telling her we would get through this together. It would be okay.

We got there first and waited for Dad to pull in. The three of us walked in together. As we approached Mom's room we noticed the door was closed. Mom's nurse stopped us and told us that she was gone.

The three of us entered the room. She was laying there with no tubes, no machines, no nothing. Just laying there. I kissed her forehead. The three of us held hands and prayed over her, asking God to accept her into his kingdom and to watch over her. Then, my sister and I left the room so Dad could say his goodbyes in private.

We all went to sit in the waiting area one last time. I don't know why we did that. We really just didn't know what to do I guess. We sat there for a little while then we all went home. Once again, Dad drove himself.

When we got home I remember getting out of the car. I wanted to walk. I walked up my street, tears streaming down my face. I remember saying out loud "Mama, I can't feel you anymore! Where are you? I can't feel you anymore!".

The next time I saw my mother was at the funeral home, two days later. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen my mother look so beautiful. I truly mean that. She looked beautiful. Everyone said it was because she was finally free from her broken down body and at peace. She was wearing a powder blue dress. Her fingernails we painted a rosy shade and she had on blue eyeshadow. Her hair looked so pretty. Before everyone started arriving I saw my Dad at the casket. He was talking out loud to my mother and he was crying. I blocked the door way and let him have his time with her.

It's been a year and a half since all that happened and I still think of my mom often. But now when I think of her I try to remember happy times like the restaurant incident, the Sicilian Hex, or my mother's quick wit. I'm slowly letting go of so much sadness, but it is a long process. Writing about her in this journal is part of that process.

I won't lie...sometimes my mother drove me crazy. We didn't always see eye to eye, but I loved my mother very much. Everyone who knew her tells me she adored me. I could do no wrong in my mother's eyes. About three months after she died we went to California to visit my Mom's brother and his wife. They gave me a photo of myself that was taken on the beach when I was about 16. I turned it over and on the back in my mother's handwriting it read "Silhouette of a beautiful girl". That's how my mother felt about me.

Losing a parent is one of the oddest experiences I've ever had. One day I can talk about Mom and laugh, the next day something comes up and I cry. I think back to the last time I saw her and spoke with her, two days before she died. If I'd known I was never going to talk with her again would I have said or done anything differently that day? Happily, I don't think so. There's an empty space in my heart that will never, ever be filled. If you are lucky enough to still have your parents, don't take them for granted. Say what you want to say now. Live each day to the fullest because you just never know when it's your day to get that call.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Letter To A Friend

When you love and live with an addict you find yourself running around desperately looking for an answer. The more you have invested in the relationship, the more you want it to work. Throw in a couple of kids and a mortgage and want this to work.

You will probably enlist the help of others....the addict's friends, family members, anyone who will listen to you. You will find yourself trying to call the addict's bluff, "I'll leave if you don't stop!" but then you don't, because that's not really what you want to do. Not yet anyway.

As time goes on, things get worse. You become a detective; carefully skimming over phone records, bank statements, even store receipts. You may find yourself following the addict. I knew a girl once who actually put on a disguise and rented a car to follow someone she thought was in trouble.

Eventually you become consumed with controlling the addict's behavior. This does not happen overnight, but trust does happen. You begin to feel obsessed with the thought that you have to get things under control...YOUR CONTROL!

The question is this: Who's controlling whom?

Eventually you learn the hard way that you are not controlling the addict, or his using. He and his using are controlling you!

So what do you do? The first thing you do is start taking control of the one thing you have any control over; yourself. You may be amazed at what happens when the addict sees you stop obsessing over his behavior and start working on yourself. Get yourself educated about addiction. Next, take a look back at your own history. If you grew up in a home with substance abusers you just may be codependent. If you have a previous history of relationships with other addicts or abusers, you probably are codependent. Educate yourself about this subject, and fast! I recommend "Codependent No More" by Melody Beattie.

You have some big decisions to make and no matter if you stay or if you go, things probably won't be easy. But the number one most important thing you can remember is that we are all responsible for ourselves...period. Nothing you can do will change the addict's behavior. He must do that for himself, and he likely won't be motivated enough to make any changes until he's hit rock bottom. But you don't have to hit rock bottom with him. Do what you need to do to ensure the health and well being of yourself and your family. Break the cycle for the next generation by letting them grow up in a peaceful, worry-free home, and letting them see you as a strong and healthy individual.

Monday, October 12, 2009

A Harsh Realization

The other day I made the comment to Scarlett that "God laughs at our plans", meaning just when we think we've got everything figured out, we discover there's another plan in place for us. I got a dose of that today.

My aunt & uncle are visiting from California and have taken a road trip with my Dad. My Dad had his regular 6 month check up appointment this morning before they got started. They called from the road to tell me that my Dad's doctor has scheduled a stress test for him this Friday. I was not expecting that. He wants me to be there with him. I was not expecting that either.

My initial reaction was confusion, because my Dad had not mentioned feeling bad. The good news is that the doctor is mostly doing this as a precaution and believes he probably won't find anything. He thinks the discomfort is being brought on by something else. So at that point, I must admit I began to feel a bit sorry for myself because I happen to be on a "ME" vacation right now. That is very selfish, I know. I'm just being honest with my readers as always.

After all this swirl of emotion I had a harsh realization about something. My Dad is alone now so if he has to be hospitalized, has surgery, or becomes ill, I'm pretty much going to be his primary caregiver. How the hell I'm going to pull that off while working full time and taking care of my own family, I don't know. My sister lives out of town and has a barrage of health problems herself, so I guess it's going to be me. My Dad has always been so healthy and active that I just haven't given this much thought. Until today, that is.

If you've never had a sick parent you are lucky. I watched my poor Mother go through many illnesses and surgeries. I visited her often, but let's face Dad was her caregiver. He sat with her day after day, week after week in the hospital, he changed her bandages, he administered her medicine, he bathed her. I've never had to care for a sick adult who needs someone to be there every day. It terrifies me. I don't think I even know how to do it.

God won't give us more than we can handle and none of us know what tomorrow will bring, so I'll try not to worry too much about this. I will try to take life one day at a time. Tonight I am going to help my kids with homework and spend some relaxing time with my family. That's what I'm going to do today. I'll worry about tomorrow....tomorrow.

Quotes I Like

"Waiting until we reach our limits is one way to know them - but not necessarily the best."
-Melody Beattie

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Sunday Morning Comin' Down

In the late 1980's I became friends with a girl I worked with. Her name is Carolyn. We were very close. I was maid of honor in her wedding and she was in my (second) wedding. In early 1992 Carolyn's husband got a good job offer in another state so they moved. For several years we maintained very regular contact with each other. I went out there a couple of times and she came home fairly regularly for visits. Then, life started getting busier and we just naturally drifted apart.

I usually get a Christmas card from Carolyn, but a few years back she started writing a lengthy Christmas letter. With each passing year I noticed her letters got more and more religious. The last two or three have used the term "bless the Lord" or something like that probably a dozen times each. They also now contain scriptures and a call to action for anyone who isn't saved.

Carolyn didn't even go to church back in the day but now she is quite active in the Assemblies of God church and has apparently become quite conservative. Well, this week Carolyn found me on Facebook (have I mentioned love it / hate it?). I rarely post anything about myself of Facebook anymore but I suddenly found myself thinking I'd better be careful what I post because Carolyn might think less of me if I talk about rock bands or tattoos or use foul language. Not to worry, I got over that pretty quickly.

I won't get in to a discussion about why I don't currently attend church or why I feel people have made religion much, MUCH more complicated than it needs to be. I am who I am, just as Carolyn is who she is. I guess we all have to decide what's right for us religion-wise. I'm quite happy where I'm at and I guess she is too. It just happens we probably won't see eye to eye on much anymore.

So I guess my point is that it intrigues me how many different views people have on what is right and wrong and how one should worship, and how most people believe only their way is the right way. We can't all be right on that one, can we?

I'll just keep being me and keep believing the way I feel comfortable. I guess we all should.

Friday, October 9, 2009

...I'm Just Waiting On A Friend

Today was an interesting day. I spent my lunch hour with Chris W's best friend from high school. We've been communicating for months now via Facebook (love it / hate it) and he happened to be in town for a couple of days so we met up.

I could have talked to TJ for hours. It's very hard to catch up on nearly thirty years of life in just an hour, but we made the most of it. TJ and his wife live in England and he has graciously extended an open invitation to my husband and me whenever we like. I'm quite certain we will take them up on the offer at some point in time. My husband is very much on board with a visit abroad. I'm pretty sure he and TJ would get along very well.

I toiled over this, but after I wrote the Chris W Story I decided to forward the entries to TJ. He now has the link to Detach and will hopefully be a new faithful reader. Like me, TJ hasn't heard from Chris in many years, plus he was right there along side us as it happened, so he enjoyed reading the story. I asked him not to tell me if I got any of the details wrong because I didn't really want to know--particularly if there were anything bad!

TJ did tell me today that he and Chris W had talked way back when and said that they both felt I was trying to change Chris. Imagine that? Me? Trying to change someone? I was aghast....I told him about Mary's MILFs (Men I'd Like To Fix). Chris W. was surely a founding father.

Anyway, welcome TJ. I hope you'll enjoy this journal. It is lessons in codependence, coupled with stories of most any types of self improvement, all wrapped up in my memoirs and the sordid story of my life. Happy Reading.

Monday, October 5, 2009

That's A Good Question

So if I vowed never to lose control again, never to let things around me get so OUT of control, how did I end up in such a mess later on? Why didn't I take the reigns and never let go? The answer is easy. In my attempt to take full control, I mistakenly tried to take charge of everyone and everything around me rather than trying to control the one thing I could actually have power over....myself.

Four Years of Hell

The next four years of my life were bad. I spent most of it trying to catch David in the act. I had periods of time when I thought I was crazy, that I was imagining everything. This was back in the day before caller ID or call blocking or pretty much any technology. Every night there were hang up calls. Often David would need to run an errand after we received them. I would check times on receipts, I would try to interrogate his friends, I involved his parents and his brother.

Once we were in Gatlinburg, TN when one of his "ex" mistresses unknowingly boarded the trolley we were on. She nearly fainted when she saw us sitting there.

Once a mysterious woman called me in the middle of Bunco when I had eleven friends over and asked me if I knew where my husband was. She said he was with her best friend and she thought I should know about it.

Once I spent an hour and a half talking on the phone with the woman he is now married to. She told me they'd been dating for nearly two years and that David had told her he and I hadn't slept together in years. He told her he was waiting for the right time to leave.

I'll swear to you I could go on and on and on about the horrible things I endured during those four years. The constant lies, the mind games, the sadness, the manipulation. I have no idea how many women he cheated with. There were a lot. Working at a college is just too much temptation. Lots of willing young women who don't think twice about what they're doing or whom they are doing it to.

Much of the codependent behaviors I have today were born during those four years, I firmly believe that. I had no control whatsoever over my life or what happened to me and I vowed that would never happen again. I swore I'd never lose control like that again. I needed to take control and fast.

I moved out of my home in August of 1990, just shy of our 7th wedding anniversary. Our divorce was final in January of 1991. David married the woman mentioned above almost immediately after the divorce was final. They are still married today and have three grown children.

I would be a very different person today if I hadn't endured that marriage. I don't know whether that is a good thing or a bad thing. I have to think it's good because the thought that those years were wasted is too much to bear. I have absolutely no fond memories of David at all. I get angry when I think too much about him. Seven or eight years ago David and his wife were in a terrible car accident. He was in the hospital for months. I didn't feel anything when I heard the news. I remember feeling sad for his parents and thinking how upset they must be. Several weeks after the accident I called his mom to tell her I'd seen them on the news and to ask how David was doing. While we were talking she told me that one of David's nurses was apparently an old friend that she thought I might know. Her name was Kim and she had red hair. David was unable to speak at that time and she thought I might be able to tell her who this girl was. I said I didn't know her, but that was a lie. Kim was the girl who got on the trolley in Gatlinburg that day. She was a nursing student at the college back then. What would have been the use in telling her? I didn't.

I still get a Christmas card from his mother every year. She never mentions him. I loved her very much and look forward to her card.

With that chapter of my life finally over I was ready to start living my life as an independent, single person. 1991 would be one of the craziest years of my entire life. I can't wait to write about it.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

I Should Have Listened To Mark

In order to finish the Chris W. story, I had to jump ahead a few years. Now, let's go back into time to fill in the missing pieces. I was a freshman at community college and finding myself available for the first time in awhile. I don't know why I didn't set my standards higher. I don't know why I didn't try to meet some smart student with a bright future, but I didn't. I had my eye on a maintenance man at campus. That's right....a maintenance man. I saw him driving around on his little cart every day and I thought he was a doll. He had big dimples, and twinkly eyes. I was smitten.

After awhile I got up the nerve to meet him. His name was David. He was the same age as I was and hadn't been employed there too long. David was a clown. He was always smiling and always making people laugh. He was very funny and very charming. There was just one problem....he was married. He had married his high school sweetheart immediately after graduation. He told me what a mistake that was, that everyone had tried to talk them out of getting married. He told me what a bitch she was and that he was miserable. I was 18 years old; I ate up every word of it.

I'll never forget sitting in my friend Mark's car one night. We were in front of my parents' house. Mark said to me "Mary....if he'll cheat WITH you, he'll cheat ON you". Mark begged me not to get involved with this guy. I didn't listen.

Less than a year after he'd married her, David was divorced from his young bride and dating me. I thought he was the greatest thing ever. He was handy and could fix just about anything. He could charm the pants off of just about anyone. He had the most wonderful parents and three great brothers. Before anyone could blink an eye I was part of his family.

David and I were married in October, 1983, less than two years after meeting. I was 19 years old and thought I knew everything. After all, my sister had been married at 17! I was two years older than that. I knew it all.

Things were like a story book for the first three years. We lived in a one bedroom apartment with a galley kitchen. We didn't need money, we had love. By now, my parents and my sister had grown very fond of David. All was right with the world until one day when I was making the bed in our apartment. I'll never forget it. I was just making the bed when suddenly I thought "Something doesn't add up. Surely he's not cheating on me?"

You've already read some of the stories about the things this man did to me. He would cheat and lie to me non stop for the next 4 years. It's funny--when I began writing the Mike Brown story and the Chris W. story I felt really different than I do tonight. I felt young and in love just remembering those stories. I cried alot while writing the Chris W. story--happy tears. But writing about my ex-husband, David is totally different. I don't feel warm and fuzzy at all. In fact, it's hard for me to write that I was head over heels for him. It's hard for me to type how good looking or funny he was because I can't stand the thought of him. He robbed me. David took alot of things away from me; mainly my trust in people. I feel bitter when I think of him.

Tonight I'll just stop right there in the bedroom, making the bed. I'll just stop with that life changing thought that ran through me head. Yeah....that's where I'll stop for now.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Random Thoughts

It's rare that I ever get alone time. Tonight everyone is out for a couple of hours and it's quiet. No radio, no T.V., no voices. Just quiet. Time to think. Hmmmmm......I think I'll just write random thoughts as they come to mind:

Mystical deserves a big pat on the back for all her hard work these past few weeks. I know she exhausted. She did a great job.

Today at work wasn't as bad as I had dreaded. It was hectic, but not as bad as I'd feared.

I've been stress eating. I have to stop. I'm glad The Biggest Loser is back on the air, maybe I'll get inspired.

I hope Madison made it to class on time and did well on her quiz.

The kids got good report cards. Awesome. I'm glad they are out of school for a few days--I need the break.

My husband and I have been getting along remarkably well lately. That's cool.

I heard that (the legendary, Mustang driving) Mike Brown is going to be a grandfather. That struck me as funny for some reason.

Feeling relieved the dog wasn't waiting for me to let her out when I got home. We made the right decision in not adopting her.

Looking forward to grilled chicken burritos at work tomorrow...and it's jeans day.

I'm sick of Facebook.

I hope no one in my family gets the flu. I vote we all stay home for a month.

Can't wait til it's time to build a fire in the fireplace!

I hope the concert I was supposed to go to gets rescheduled soon.

I can't flippin' wait for my upcoming two week fall vacation. I'm going to get my house organized, pamper myself a little, and take some naps.

I wish Kitty would call me.