I have a lot to offer a man. I read these personal ads (on the internet we call them *profiles*) and these men are all about wanting me....except I am not busty, I smoke and I have *baggage* (read a child that lives with me). Oh and while they claim to want passion, they certainly don't want any *drama*. The rest of their requirements...I can easily fill and then some. Attractive X Decent Body X Sexy X Honest X Fun X Kind X Makes Own Money X Not a "Gold Digger" X Intelligent X Sense of Humor X Passionate X (problem here is, that its attached to *DRAMA*) Likes Sports X and Motorcycles X Playful X Decent X Faithful X Owns Dresses/Skirts X Has Own Friends X Not Clingy X Still Affectionate X Romantic X Good Mix of Dependency/Independency X Can Cook Well X Crafty and Artistic X Cleans (well passably) X Loves Animals X ETC. ETC. Really I am pretty spiffy. I want to make my man feel like a freaking KING. I want to spoil him completely rotten for all other women but me. I want to wear his body out, inspire his actions and stimulate his mind. I want him to be pleased with me and proud of me. What more could a man want right? Yep..... Here I am damn near close to perfect except, I'm not: Good at ego stroking; Willing to sleep with every guy I meet (not even most of them!); Pretending to be stupid (see: ego stroking); Willing to financially support a deadbeat; Going to lie to make him feel better when he deserves to feel worse; Putting up with ANY abuse against my children, his children or me; Some Guy's Maid, Gopher, Prostitute/Mistress, Scratching Post, Valet, Punching Bag; Changing who I am to suit the way he thinks I should be; Quitting smoking unless I (as in me and me alone) want to and choose to; Staying with anyone who uses illegal drugs or is drug and/or alcohol addicted; Kissing Ass to get along; Changing my diet; Ignoring my children, no matter how old they are; Going to lie about my life and/or the people in it; Accepting less than total commitment from the one who gets it from me; Willing to sit in the shadows of his life; Willing to sit at home by the phone and wait wait wait; Blind; Deaf; Stupid; Sharing him with anyone else romantically or sexually; Settling for less than I deserve, less than I give out Asking for more than I am willing to give back or put up with. Tell the truth.... I'm going to be alone forever aren't I? C'est la vie!

the big X (repost)

I figure my life is almost but not quite half over. Which means I still have just as much time left as I've wasted. I truly do expect to live close to 100. The women in our family seem to live a long time, with the exception of my beloved cousin and her mother (whom I got my middle name from). They were exposed to asbestos in the family home though and got cancer from it. The men die early though. Its not that we actually kill them....we just wear them out I think. They last approximately 60 years and then actually have the heart attacks they say we've been giving them for years. The grandmother I was named after, my natural father's mother, was a royal bitch. She didn't have a kind word for me until about a week before she died at just under 100 years old. She was a brilliant woman though, evil but brilliant. My daughter hates clowns with a passion, so Grandma gave her one for every birthday or holiday. Lovely woman. She did like my boys. Boys are better somehow. She was mean to her daughters too. I never met my poor grandfather, Clyde. He died before I was an adult and developed a relationship with my father. I've only heard wonderful things about him though. My father died a few years after my grandmother. I loved him dearly. He was everything I hoped he would be when I finally was able to have a relationship with him in my 20's. I miss him like I do my grandfather and my best friend who are also gone from this world. He wasn't that old (grandma had him late in life, she was nearly 50!), cancer got him. My mother's mother is now in her mid 90's. She has smoked since she was 10 or 11. She started breaking all the rules long before that. She is a wonderful crotchety old woman who still has her wits about her, even if her legs are starting to give her trouble now. She still has living sisters, one is older. There are tons of stories of crazy and daring women in my family and they all seem to have this long-life genetic thing. My whole point is I am one of the spicy women found in both sides of my family that will probably live as close to forever as humanly possible. Only the good die young you know. Unless of course, someone shoots our ass. I'm not quite bullet-proof. Still I think I fall into that history of powerful woman in our family. I don't have an x gene I have an X gene. It's my heritage and my legacy to my own daughter. I figure I still have time to do some of the things I wish I had already done. I'm going to find the romantic and passionate love relationship that I so want and so need. I'm going to make the second half of my life better than the first half. One day I'm going to make a list. Like that movie ....the bucket list...
John Mayer Lyrics

Strong Enough? (repost)

Most of the guys I talk with will never get past the talk stage with me. They all hope they will. Most of them believe they will be able to sweep past my defenses with their charm, arrogance or wit. I do so love the daring-do types. I’m not stupid though. I want to see inside their heads before my body gets too involved. My body isn’t where my brains are. I want to make sure that they are consistent in what they say. I want to make sure that I can agree with the basic beliefs and tenets they hold. I want to make sure they are *strong enough* to be my man. I'm just not that easy to love..... I wish I were less complicated....I’ve been blogging for years... I thought blasting things out to the world would somehow make me better for a time....not sure whether it did or didn't. I'd like to think that catharsis is good though. I’ve deleted more than I have left now. I'm too passionate. I know that. What I don't know is how to fix it. I love too much....need love too much. I'm demanding in a lot of ways....but I think I give it back. I want to. I try to. My history is so convoluted. I can't change that. Some things taint you in unexpected ways. You think you are ok and then you realize that nooooooo normal is not like you. You wake up and aren't sure where the dreams and nightmares actually end. You confuse pleasure with pain and you confuse lust with love. Sometimes you can't tell the truth from lies. You went to sleep thinking that all was right in the World and you wake up wondering if today is the day the World will end. You question God. You second guess *the plan*. You wonder what the point is in being good....but you can't bring yourself to risk letting go of your Grandpa’s wisdom....no one else ever loved you that much..... You always wonder....question....ask *What if*. Sleep eludes you. And sometimes you wake up screaming. I need to find someone who is similarly tainted I think....someone who is like me....or maybe what I need is to find someone who hasn't been damaged at all.... I hide myself and then I show all of myself at once...just before I put on a mask. Sometimes I'm really ugly. Not easy to love.....but I need it so much..... How am I ever going to find a man who can put up with me?

Faces of Hope (repost)

HOPE has two faces. Someone once said something to the effect that without Hope there is no Despair. It’s a profound thought. I say that without Hope there is no Joy. I try to stay on HOPE’s good side.

Do you remember the story of Pandora? When she opened that box, she let out all the evils except one: HOPE. The Greeks considered HOPE to be as dangerous as all of the world's other evils. Still, while HOPE was still in the box and all the other troubles were visited upon the world, humanity was desolate and desperate....Imagine the relief when Pandora finally returned to that box and let HOPE out to join the rest! Even though HOPE wasn’t strong enough to get out of the box right away, in the end it proved stronger than all the other ills that had been unleashed upon the world! Only Hope could give mankind the strength to face the rest of the World’s evils and to fight it’s way from the prisons of desolation and despair. So why did Zues put Hope in the box in the first place? In *All Too Human*, Friedrich Nietzsche proposes that Zeus did not want man to throw his life away, no matter how much the other evils might torment him, but rather to go on letting himself be tormented anew. To that end, he gives man hope.
I can relate but I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. I am a Christian at the core. Maybe not a right-winged Bible thumper, but I am a Christian. I believe in God. I believe in Jesus. Maybe I don’t believe it the way it is so often preached, but I do believe the Bible is Truth...maybe not exact truth as humans see it, but it is divine truth. The inspired writings of Paul contains words I live by. In fact it is my favorite Book and Chapter of the Bible. In the 13th Chapter of his 1st letter to the Corinthians Paul writes:
(11) When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child, when I became a man, I did away with childish things. (12) For now we see in a mirror dimly but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known, (13) but now faith, hope, love, abide these three; and the greatest of these is love.

There are 3 abiding spirits that God has given us to accomplish our purposes in this world and to have the strength to deal with life in this world. I’ve worked on Faith and I will continue to do so.... I am always working on Love, all types of love...but Hope, that I have taken for granted and cursed whenever it left me. I want to be friends with it now. I never realized its strength or power until recently when I’d all but given up and had it returned to me without deserving it or even asking for it back. That is Grace in action....the free spirit..
Hopefully, I will come out of this a better person.
Quote for today:
Beginnings are scary. Endings are usually sad, but it's what's in the middle that counts. So, when you find yourself at the beginning, just give hope a chance to float up. And it will.

--Birdee Pruitt (Sandra Bullock) Hope Floats

The Magical Power of EST (repost)

I have a very jealous and competitive nature. Mostly it is kept in check by the fact that I am also incredibly nice and I want everyone to love me. Also, despite my numerous falls from Grace, I am still scared to bring the Wrath of GOD down on my head (sorry....I couldn't help myself....I used to go to a very *hellfire and brimstone* type of church). So usually I don't over do too much. Not withstanding the above (sorry again....too much time in the presence of lawyers), I like being an EST. I have to be EST whenever I can. As a child I was that kid who finished the test the quickEST and practically tripped over her shoes to deliver it to the teacher. I wanted to be the bEST. I wasn't the fastEST runner, but I was the slowEST, so it didn't bother me too much because I was still distinctive....still EST. I've always loved it when my actions or words or even better my whole self was described with one of those magical EST words.... bEST, of course was my favorite. There were also brightEST, sweetEST, sexiEST, craziEST, thinEST, blEST, prettiEST, etc. etc.....lots of words end with those magical letters that thrill me to no end. I've always been by nature, extreme. I've also been shamed and shamefully thrilled by other EST words....meanEST, raunchiEST, cruelEST, nastiEST, you know the words I'm talking about...depending on how they are used and the actual intent.... In my life I've done some wild and/or stupid things. I've numerous scars to prove it. I had the bad girl blog to document some of it (mostly deleted now). I've done cruel things too, that I still try to atone for. I was the girl who went off road bahaing on the top of the jeep. I was the girl who would smoke a joint in front of a teacher. I was the woman who would stand up to the crack head across the street (without enough sense to worry about getting shot). I go out with strangers. I also struggle with the super-person syndrom. I try to be everything to everyone. I have a hard time saying *No*, even when it means going on a couple of hours of sleep a night for weeks at a time. I never refuse when I am called into work no matter what else I need to do....I just do it later and forego my body's natural need for rest. I am a heart attack waiting to happen sometimes. I fight addiction all the time. In school I experimented with drugs. As a young woman, I danced dangerously close to anorexia for a time. I came close to taking up drinking once, but I took antidepressants instead. (EST types are prone to depression because someone else can always EST beyond you....trust me...its not easy being EST). I've been addicted to people too. Smothering was the word that was used. Right now its the cigarrettes. The problem with being an EST type of person is that you can never willingly walk away from a challenge, you never run from a fight, you never turn down a dare, there is no risk you won't take if it keeps you on top of the EST thing. You feel this intense need to always show others that you have NO LIMIT. Truth is rewritten to face the challenge with you. If you are hurt in the process its the price you have already chosen to pay. Its NOT the bEST way to live and I am constantly working on this little vice. The good thing about being an EST type of person is that you continually strive to outdo yourself (ok and everyone else too, friends and family are no exception). You are always looking for ways to be the bEST. That is why I have succeded in business despite the lack of a college degree. It is how I managed to raise, not one but two, special needs sons (severe Asperger's autism) from recommendations of institutionalization to having one who is now, for all intents and purposes, *normal*, self sufficient and self supporting, and another who will be at that point soon. So sometimes its a virtue. I don't want to lose that drive. It's what has made me the bEST when I dealt with the worst obstacles in my life. I am so addicted to this kind of EST behavior that finding a balance is difficult. I get a thrill from being an EST even when its bad. NOT GOOD. I usually don't do an actual damage, other than to my self esteem. I've found that people are more likely than not, going to enjoy most of my EST behavior and I end up making irresponsible and stupid mistakes for no other reason than I like the attention. Its me who has to live with them and take the steps to correct what I screw up. I'm the one who made the first impressions with the mask on. I'm the one who has blown a few perfectly good opportunities to advance my position in business by failing to show off my better skills. I may not cause irrepairable damage....but I have the choice of behaving better. Just because I will have new opportunities and meetings is no excuse to waste the ones I've been given. ATTENTION. That is what being an EST type is really all about. Obviously I enjoy attention. I steal it every chance I get. Maybe its the middle child syndrom. My old shrink said that she thought I did everything in extreme because I was still trying to prove myself worthy of my miracle birth (I was too premature and various other complications), or because I felt guilty because good things seemed to come to me too easy when compared with the *luck* of the rest of my family, as if I was trying to put myself back in my place. Frankly, I think I'm just a know-it-all show off most of the time....but its always nice to have an excuse. Does anyone feel sorry for me for being so mixed up in the head?....ROFLMAO. I don't!!!!! Still I use these excuses all the time. Why? Because they usually work and everyone forgives my outrageous behavior. I'm not really that bad. Just bad enough to embarass myself once in a while, still I want to be better. I want to be the bEST person I can be....even if that means giving up some of those other little ESTs and managing myself a bit better. I am a passionate woman.....not much choice there. I don't have to be stupid though.

Hope is a dangerous occupation (repost)

HOPE is a dangerous occupation. Sometimes you have to pay a high price for the resolution to HOPE. There is no way to calculate what the cost will be. Whatever you spend, the value of HOPE will exceed the cost. HOPE is a bargain at any price. HOPE works with Faith when you can not bear the pressure on you, the two of them will hold you up and give you strength until you can stand alone again. Faith is your surprise bonus gift when you concentrate on HOPE. I live with HOPE every day. Even when Despair and Fear try to seduce me with their blame games, why me’s and what if’s. Even when the future is a shadow instead of a light. I know that whatever happens in the numerous milestones I am crossing right now, that it is going to be for the best. I've left it in God's hands. Good Hands. Better than mine, at least I'm hoping. Sometimes it feels kind of like when I had the surgery on my hands. My thumbs were completely useless before it happened. I was in constant severe pain. Everything I tried to do was an exercise in faith because I was as likely to drop something as to keep holding on. I knew what I needed but I was afraid to do it. I did it anyway. I had HOPE for a miracle, even though one wasn't promised. FEAR (another four letter word) is the truest opposite of HOPE. Fear takes away joy. HOPE brings it. Fear prevents us from planning. HOPE demands it. Fear smothers us and holds us down. HOPE sets us free. After I had the surgery my thumbs were completely useless. I was in constant severe pain. Everyting I tried to do was an exercise in faith because I was as likely to drop something as to keep holding on. Not much difference at first. I wondered why I had the stupid surgery for a couple of months. It wasn't cheap. I had to put my life on hold for 12 weeks all told (and it probably should have been longer). Then slowly the pain eased. I was able to regain maybe 80-90% of the use of my thumbs again. The pain went away. I still drop things once in a while, but for the most part I can hang on. These hands of mine still work, sometimes differently, but they can get what I need done. Yeah, I had therapy then, and I may need another type of therapy for my present *surgeries* eventually but at least I can hang on. I'm not afraid of cutting into myself and repairing the damage anymore. A healed injury is better than a gaping wound. Scars fade and we relearn what we can not repeat. Body and spirit are not that different. Hope heals both.

A good friend is a good find (repost)

There is a man I work with, for his privacy I will just use his initial G. G. is a tall middle aged, well educated black man. I love to hear him talk, he sounds like James Earl Jones.

He has never been a romantic interest, Heaven forbid. I admire him though. He is a wonderful human being. Extremely intelligent. Good heart.

We hit it off immediately. We share shifts about 3 times a week and always find time to talk. We are both intellectuals and interested in a lot more than whatever celebrity will be staying in the hotel next. We discuss politics, religion, gender issues and current events. He fulfills a need in me to communicate with other adults that I am unable to fulfill now due to my family's lack of education, my older children growing up, and just being without a significant other.

In a way, he makes it easy for me to wait until I can have the right relationship without jumping into one out of lonliness. He gives me just enough brain food to keep me from starving.

In the time, I've known him, he has helped me become resolute about the type of man I want. G. has been married forever. Same woman. He's devoted to her. He calls her his girlfriend. He doesn't cheat. They are friends, he respects her. I wish I could meet her. I feel as if I know her. Sometimes I think in another age, or even now if I hadn't had so many events at such young ages, I could be her. I would have been happy to have that kind of life. She is too.

G and Mrs. G. have 2 children who are very successful in their own rights. I think maybe G did his job as a parent too well, they fend pretty well for themselves now and I think he likes looking after me a bit at work because of it. G and Mrs. G. are an example of a couple who have the kind of relationship I want.

Sometimes he gives me a ride home from work. He's like that, kind of protective over me in a fatherly fashion. He is probably the only person I talk to at work that I don't feel the need to censure myself with. We agree on most issues and respect each other when we don't.

I need those few minutes with my friend often. He knows what is going on in my life and his advice is always sound. I wish I had my father or grandfather to talk to, but I'm beginning to think that he is the next best thing. I can trust him because there is nothing that I can do for him. All he wants is to be my friend, and you know what? He is.

He can't solve my problems. There are no answers right now. He does reassure me. He calls me wise, and I believe he means it. Once he said I should have been born a hundred years ago (when he claims to have been), I would have fit in better. Of course I would have been unemployed then, roflmao....no computers.

God sends you angels when you need them.

Ok the real answer

Ok . I will come up with a real answer. I thought I had answered it a couple of ways, but according to my friends, I am not being specific enough. I want to fall in love and I want the one I fall for to fall for me too. I won't even admit I love him until he admits it first. Why? Because I want him to be *the man*. I want him to be my *Adam*. I am not a weak-minded woman and in fact, I realize that I am asking for trouble by wanting that. Its not an easy thing for me to want, but I believe the fact that I have either never met my *Adam* or failed to recognise him, is the reason why my relationships have not worked. I believe God made me the way I am because somewhere in this world, hopefully not far from me there is a man who needs a woman like me. That's right I said needs. I need him and he needs me. Desperate need. Like food water and shelter. Need like he's missing a rib and I have the only one that fits. I have to tell you....it is an unusual rib to boot. It fits someone who is a cross between the Tin Man and Rhett Butler. For future reference, the domination I speak of is not about being battered. I would never put up with physical abuse (notwithstanding consensual sexual play and even that has its limits). I don't want a man to hurt me. I don't want to hurt him either. I also don't need a man to boss me around, I certainly expect my man to respect me and every opinion I have. I also don't want to be stalked, harrassed, emotionally or verbally abused. I want a best friend and a mentor too. In my trusting relationships, I find I am a bit more like Dorothy in the land of Oz than I care to admit. I am not sure of the rules of engagement. I share all I have. I want to play nice and I get my feelings hurt easily. I need to find a man who really wants this battered up old heart of mine. I'd love to dance a dance with the tin-man! But, in every partnership there is always the one who has the final say, who leads the way and sets the tone. I want to be dominated that way. I want my man to be the head of our relationship and I will be the heart. I want our roles defined. I want to have the traditional biblical relationship. I want to be his rib...his help-mate. His missing part, the part that supports him. Back to the subject at hand. I want to be dominated, not because I need to be, but because I am supposed to be. God intended it that way for me. Otherwise I would not have such a strong desire for it. The Good Lord, in his wisdom, also made it very difficult to dominate me. He is going to need to be quite the man. My alphabet is true...so is every other post I've written. I believe in truth so whoever chooses to be my man will out of necessity, need to appreciate and practice truth too. I need frankness and honesty like bread and water. I don't want a man who is afraid of hurting my girly little feelings. I want a man who can tell it like it is, hopefully I will like it but if I don't, then he needs to find a way to gain my acceptance or to put his foot down. I appreciate character, kindness and leadership qualities. I seriously love a rakish sense of humor and sexual naughtiness. I demand loyalty and commitment. I will not abide being cheated on nor will I allow him to abuse me or my children (or any children he may have for that matter). He has to be willing to overlook and forgive my past mistakes and be ready to start a new life with me, just as I am willing to overlook and forgive his past mistakes and begin a new life with him. Basically I feel like Scarlett O'Hara sometimes and I'm looking for my Rhett Butler. (and I am taking both Gone with the Wind and Scarlett into consideration, I lived a milder version of her life, 20th Century style). Yeah I'm kind of like her, I started out a bit of a femme fatale and now I'm sorry for the siren I was, I played with boys and broke too many hearts but now I want to get in the real game with a real man....and yeah Rhett Butler is my kind of man...I wouldn't care if he was dirt poor. Why Rhett Butler? Well I know why most women loved him....and those are some of the reasons I like him.... He was a bit incorrigible, devilishly handsome, money meant nothing to him and OMG the passion!.... I'm hot for him for a couple of other reasons though... Even though he loved Scarlett, he was never blind to her. He SAW her, flaws and virtues and not just her pretty face and not just her sexy body.... He always took what he want and demanded she give him everything she was, her practiced charms were never enough, she had to learn him too. He wouldn't play her stupid little games, he called her on it every time. He made her better than she was because he demanded of her all she could be and not just what she was. Even then, he still provided her with all she ever needed. Her mistake was in not letting him know how much she loved him. If I ever meet my Rhett....I am going to seek to please him and never hold back my emotion or my words. I like to think that if this series had ever been completed we would have found them dead sometime in their 90s wrapped up in each other's naked bodies in their bed. That's the way great love stories should always end. So I've somewhat described who I want.... There are other things, I need him to like kids and to be patient with teens. I need him not to be an asshole. I need a lot of sex....and some of what I want is more than I can print in these pages, even though I think I am pretty open. Its not that I'm ashamed of the things I want and need.... I just don't want to have to explain to him later why I shared that information with so many people when some of them are male. See I want him to be a bit jealous and possessive of me too. I read all these personal ads declaring that this person or that person *doesn't want any DRAMA*.... Me I want it....I want all his drama and all his passion.... I want to stir him up to boiling!

The ABC's of Mr. Not Quite Right in the Head

Someone asked me today what I wanted in a man. Truth is I want it all. I'm a greedy little bitch sometimes. I like to say I want to find a caveman and dress him up in a suit. I want a really savage caveman too boot....and a fancy suit. Basically I want him to be the *MAN*. I know....I know....that is tres sexist of me. But lets just do my alphabet.... 
A is for Alpha Male. (I want a man, not a boy, and I want THE man, not a man) 
B is for Boyish. (one should never lose the part of themself that plays) 
C is for Crazy. (about me and a little nuttiness makes everyone more fun) 
D is for Dominant. (I'm old fashioned, and also its a sexual quirk)
E is for Energetic (He's going to need it!). (I may be older but I'm not dead yet) 
F is for Friend. (Can't love someone if you don't like someone first) 
G is for Goofy. (laughter is a wonderful thing) 
H is for Human. (you would be surprised how many people lose their humanity by my age) 
I is for Incorrigible. (I enjoy people who live life on their own terms) 
J is for Jovial. (I like likable people best) 
K is for Kind. (There is never a good excuse to be unkind) 
L is for Large. (I don't see how I could feel dominated by a smaller man...he just has to be taller than me...I don't want to look down on him) 
M is for Masculine. (I like men with all the usual good and bad qualities, if I wanted someone who with my own traits I would be a lesbian) 
N is for Naughty. (Yes!!! Shock me! Make me blush! Tease me about how you will please me! Make me admit I like it...) 
O is for Optimistic. (its better to be happy than not, its better to have hope than suffer despair) 
P is for Possessive. (I want to be HIS, I am not talking stalking or jealous rages, but if he doesn't mind when some other guy tries to move in on his territory he is not going to be man enough for me) 
Q is for Questioning. (I love curious people....male and female.) 
R is for Rowdy. (Movers and shakers well...they move and shake me! ) 
S is for Sexy. (I'm not talking looks...I'm talking attitude. I'm not going to complain that's alllll you think about....unless you aren't doing enough acting on those thoughts... ) 
T is for Teasing. (Know me well and let me know it....and let me know you too. ) 
U is for Unusual. (Average is for Average, I want someone who thinks outside of the box and lives a real life, not the one everyone thinks he should.) 
V is for Virile. (Sex is part of love. I want it all, and lots of it.) 
W is for Wild. (I want your raw emotion, I don't want you to be civilized with me, I want to have access to all your passions. ) 
X is for X-rated. (I may not share, but I'm willing to give YOU everything I've got. ) 
Y is for Yummy. (I want to taste your kisses and your skin.) 
Z is for Zainy. (Lets tickle, lets crash a party and dance the night away....Lets go for a ride and make out in a corn field...Build me a snow couple! I want to play!)

Where Oh Where is My Little Boy?

I have a sleep headache. Its that kind you get when you haven't been sleeping and catch up all at once. Other than that I'm feeling pretty good.

I took Walter skating yesterday...I wish I would have remembered the camera! I didn't watch all of it (y'all know it scares me to watch), but he is getting very impressive these days. Talk abounds about him getting sponsored soon.

He's already begun losing his Winter-weight. As you know he is also attracting a lot of female attention.

The PYT's don't bother me so much....its the older girls I want to slap! Some of these women are in thier 20's and 30's that have begun oggling my baby! I'm thinking *Over YOUR dead body Bitch!*.

After what I seen yesterday, I'm glad he's got himself a girlfriend. That puts him off limits and he is much too old fashioned and too much of a gentleman to cheat on his girlfriend. Since she is as innocent and sweet as he is, it is much better this way. I saw the light of corruption in the eyes of a couple of those bimbettes. I am going to bake Danielle some cookies. Maybe I will take her and Walter to the library or to go swimming at the hotel.

I know he looks older, he's kind of tall, naturally muscular and with that mustache and the beginnings of a beard, but sheesh! I have to get my brother over here to teach this kid how to shave.

I wonder if he would wear a shirt that said *Hey I'm still a kid!*

I'll get a recent picture of him up here soon and y'all can tell me how to make this kid look younger.

Here's one from a year ago:

It's the jaw line isn't it?

Where is that little boy I keep looking for?

He looks like this:



If you see him, Tell him his mama is looking for him!

He was supposed to stay 4 Years Old Forever

The 'hood has been quiet since that incident. Walter told me today that I can't make him stay in the house. He will go out when I'm gone.

He feels like a prisoner and he can defend himself he says.

GEEEEEEEZ......

He is, and no he can't, not against guns and knives. But he's right. Nothing I can do. He'll be careful and be inside before dark.

Why his sudden defiance? Well its really not so sudden, but usually when I put my foot down, he doesn't outright defy me, he doesn't act all manly, just resigned and petulant. He respects my right to make the decisions.

He is questioning my reasoning and authority.

My kid..... Even annoyed at him I know where it comes from. I know he means it. He is thinking clearly. He refuses to give in to fear.

He's got a girlfriend. He told me yesterday. He asked permission to give her our phone number.

GEEEEEEEEEEEZZZZZ.......

I'm not ready for this.

He's my baby. Now he's acting like a guy of all things!

He's almost 15 years old. A little chunky but mostly muscle. He's handsome as the devil in blue jeans, just like my Dad and Grandfather were. I guess I should have known it had to happen pretty soon.

I'm grateful that he's moral and good. He's a gentleman. He is planning to go over and meet little Miss Danielle's parents to make sure its ok for him to hang out with their daughter...OMG, he is sooooooooo old fashioned. He's planning on asking permission to court her in essence.

I know I'm a lucky Mom....but I don't feel so lucky right now. My baby is growing up so fast and his blasted siblings still haven't provided me with a child to hold and cuddle.

He needs to shave. I don't even know how to teach him.

I know that I did and am doing exactly what I was supposed to do with that nearly blue baby I gave birth to all those years ago. I did well, I took a helpless baby boy and turned him into a man who doesn't need me to hold him anymore.

What else could I do?

We worked out the terms, negotiated and compromised. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do....Mom's just gotta deal with it.

I love the man he is becoming but I still want my baby back.

Not as good at this as I thought

I find it is a lot easier to fall in love than it is to fall out of it.

It is a lot easier to believe in fairytales than to face truth.

It is a lot easier to deal with dreams than to overcome the effects of a nightmare.

My steel spine feels as soft as jello.

My heart isn't hard, it is broken.

Words are all I can relate to, all I understand.

I'm manipulated, controlled and consoled by 26 letters in the alphabet.

There ought to be more.

I read this today.

Have you even been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life... You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore.

Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like "maybe we should just be friends" or "how very perceptive" turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.

The Kindly Ones by Neil Gaiman

I also read a letter from him. I stayed strong. It wasn't easy. It should be getting easier.

There was the usual yadda yadda about my wonderfulness and how I deserve better and how he is so sorry he lost me.

Yeah, it was a choice and I can't be that wonderful, because I wasn't the choice he made.

Do you suppose I am his ego feed?

Maybe he is just trying to make his guilt go away by trying to make me feel better.

It doesn't work.

I only feel worse because I am too smart to believe his words over his actions.

It makes me feel worse because I want my heart to be right just once, instead of my head.

Maybe he just wants to make me think he didn't mislead me, or that if he did it was unintentional.

I still have all his letters though and if I understand anything in life it is the power of those 26 letters in the alphabet.

I hurt all over. I don't want to eat but I am going to binge anyway.

Today is for cookies and cake and not for makeup or hair brushing.

More than anything I wish the only man who ever really loved me could hold me once more.

I would crawl up on his lap and bury my face in his chest and cry until I had no tears left.

Somehow he'd make everything all right again.

I miss my Grandpa.

Goin. fer a Walk

"Today is your day. You're off to Great
Places! You're off and away!"~~Dr. Seuss

I refused all offers today and walked home. It was a beautiful day. I don't know if many of you realize this, but until the Great Depression hit, South Bend was a happening kind of town.

Seriously we were!!!

Some of the most well known politicians and socialites kept homes here. Our streets are named for them! We were pretty affluent back then and it shows in some of the architecture that still stands tightly squeezed between the more modern atrocities (I'm not much for steel and glass buildings...I like brick and wood)here.

If you'd like to join me in my walk home just follow the pictures, I'm not sure I have them in the right order (renamed them all) but close enough.



Leaving work.....I'm so glad I get to work on the main floor of this building...I get dizzy just looking up!



The Court House (I believe this is the second Court House, we have several).



Our own little Lady Liberty.... I know it isn't much, but size isn't supposed to matter.

I just love this copper light. One of these days I expect some derelict to rip it off though....There's been a lot of metal looting from our buildings recently.

I love this doorway, but it looks too forbidding to be on a church! I'm not ready for Judgment yet!

This is the reddest church I've ever seen. Love the round window though.

This is the church in its entirety, I love all the brick and stone work on it.

The steeple on this more modern church looks like its actually trying to reach Heaven.

Now we just begin looking at some of the incredible houses on my way home. Amazingly enough these houses used to be single family homes (no doubt those families had 10 or 15 kids but still!) Now most of them are either apartments or office complexes....

Seriously, what a shame.....

The two pictures below are of my dream house....I've been gazing at this house since I was a little girl.... I have dreams where I actually live in it... It represents so much to me, I don't know why I am so drawn to it, but I have been longer than I can actually remember.... If I ever win the lottery....That baby is MINE!

It was so sunny out that my glasses went almost black and so windy that my face is all red...but I still feel invigorated!

It was a lovely walk and for the first time in month, I feel pretty good about the world!

I do believe it is FINALLY Spring!

So be sure when you step.Step with care and great tact and remember that "Life's a Great Balancing Act." Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left~~~Dr. Seuss

My Inner Child

My inner child as painted by Norman Rockwell:






Seriously, You have no idea how often I found myself in this particular position then!

I think it suits me right now too.

I haven't cried since I woke up. I've actually cleaned up the mess around the house a bit and I'm going to finish it before the night is through. No letter from the one-who-got-away but that is probably a good portion of the reason I am not crying. I feel a bit stronger without the salt being rubbed into my wounds. Maybe I am even getting a scab or two.

I played rock music all day!

Y'know even when I was a kid I always broke out into a grin when things were about to get *busy*.

Mr. Right doesn't exist

So I am looking for Mr. Notquiteright Inthehead. Oh how I dream of you...night and day.... I hunger for your sloppy kisses and look for your crooked grin. I wait to have you step on my feet in the dance of life. I am listening for your crackly voice on the phone. Longing to stare into your glassy eyes. All I know is that when I find you.......... You will be perfect to me.

Crying doesn't make it better.

What is hope anyway but the triumph over fear?

I think I still have it, maybe not for the things I want to have it for, but I have hope still. I have hope that I can stand tall again and get a grip on my life. I have hope that I can find my pride and put my heart back together. I am a grown up after all.

All my life I've known what to do when someone damaged me. I would cut them out of my life completely, I walked away and never looked back at those who harmed me.

A person could cease to exist in my own little world.

Events could be completely erased in my head.

Its been a life saver and a sanity saver.

I still know of the events and people, but it is like they happened to someone else, like I read it in a book.

I just refuse to remember. I know of at least 20 times I've done this.

Only once has it ever left any lasting damage to me and so I am stuck with 2 phobias that I am constantly fighting while yet still unwilling to actually rememember the event that caused them.

Truth be told, I've made so many adjustments that it isn't really necessary for me to overcome my convenient memory loss. I've found numerous ways to improvise.

I can't think of one good reason to remember. No good can come of it.

I can't do it at will though. I wish I could right now.

It hurts to remember.

I can't forget him when he keeps appearing.

I can't erase him from my heart and mind when it seems as though he is engraved there.

I can't fight him when he uses my own weapons (words) to hypnotise me.

I can't figure out what he wants or expects from me.

All I know is he isn't saying he wants me in his life. He infers it though.

He knows how deeply I read things, he fills his excuses with veiled hope and shrouded regret.

I don't know whether its intentional or not. He's smarter than I am. Not by much though.

I don't dare focus on the fact that maybe he is regretful and wants me to continue to hope for us. I don't want to be stupid. I've been stupid enough.

I know I am the one who chose to walk away.
I didn't cause the pain though and I didn't cause the fear that brought it.
I tried to fight it. I didn't win.
The fear was bigger than my hope.

At least I actually did something instead of sitting around whining about how scared I was that I would lose him and every dream I had. I fought to keep it. I just lost.

I asked him to stop writing me last night, I know I can't go on like this.

Its torture. Part of me wishes I didn't. I am still watching the mailbox, but the longer it goes empty the more distance there will be.

I've always hated the distance between us. It is the root of our problems. Now I am grateful because the distance might be the only way I can pretend it all didn't happen.

I tried to save him, I tried to save us....all that's left to save is me.

A woman wears her tears like jewelry. ~Author Unknown

I took his necklace off my neck today. I thought I was choking. I took off the ankle bracelet too, afraid that I might lose my balance once again.

I don't know what to do with them really. So I put them in their boxes and put the boxes on a shelf I never go to. To give them back I would have to see him. I already know how easily he can convince me with those lighter than blue eyes. Too odd not to stare into and once there I would fall. I can't give them away to anyone I care about. It is like a jinx on them. I can't throw them away because they have a power all their own. Maybe I will pull them out now and again and look at them. Remind myself how hearts can burn and still not feel a thing.

The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones that look the most real, the most brilliant. ~Salvador Dalí

Right now I wonder if love really exists. I haven't dated anyone since he broke my heart and probably won't for a while. I'm also not leading anyone on. I don't do that. I give everyone my blog address so they can know the truth.

The countless gold of a merry heart, The rubies and pearls of a loving eye,
The indolent never can bring to the mart, Nor the secret hoard up in his treasury.
~William Blake

I recall how he waxed poetically about how wonderful I am and how I need and deserve so much more than he can give me. Like I didn't know that already. I'm pissed because he misrepresented himself to be that man who would at least try to give me what I need and deserve (not to mention all the love and caring I wanted to give right back) and to be looking for the same things.

He called my love a treasure. Yeah right.

What man would pass up a treasure?

I was a time filler.

That in-between woman who fixes a man's heart so he can love someone else. He never loves the in-between woman because she is the one who saw him when he was weak.

Clasp my love around your neck,Wear my heart on your finger.
My soul will be your pendant: I live to adorn you -
You're the precious one. ~Grey Livingston, "Genuine Adoration"

One thing I did learn, if you pick up the pieces you don't get to keep the whole.

I would rather be adorned by beauty of character
than jewels. Jewels are the gift of fortune,
while character comes from within. ~Titus Maccius Plautus

He talks about how he let me slip through his fingers and not how he shut the door in my face.

He takes no responsibility whatsoever for his own actions or rather lack thereof.

He never admits to deceiving me or playing with my heart. He just makes a veiled reference to the baggage on his ship which I assume means his fear.

Give crowns and pounds and guineas But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies, But keep your fancy free.~A.E. Housman

I'd rather have roses on my table than diamonds
on my neck. ~Emma Goldman

In choosing fear over me, he lost a lot more than a couple of pieces of jewelry.

The most precious jewels are not made of stone, but of flesh. ~Robert Ludlum

Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur

We choose to love, we do not choose to stop loving.--latin proverb


I stole that quote from a friend of mine.....

Fits my current broken heart status.

I'm going to get over this.....My heart might be made of glass, but my spine is made of steel.

Quid Pro Quo

I don't think a person is capable of loving someone they don't trust.

I don't want to be a secret. Some men have tried to become a part of my life.... while not inviting me to be a part of theirs.

It feels untruthful. I'm not willing to be a part of anyone's lie, even if the one they are lieing to is themself.

I explained my feelings about these types of matters and situation in much greater detail many times.


One person can not do all the sharing. It is unbalanced.

Violence in the Neighborhood

I have one of thoooooooose families.

I like to say we put the *fun* in dysfunctional.

My personal lineage goes back to Charlemagne on one side and the family of Will Rogers on the other.

I am basically the result of generations of blue blood gone slumming.

I have all the benefits of an indirect yet fully integrated (well except we don't have oriental or jewish people represented yet) family now. I love the various cultures that I get the opportunity to participate in. At this point the vast majority represents white trash, middle class white and black, reservation and non reservation Native Americans (there is a difference when you try to live completely *white* but aren't...I'm one of those). We also have a smattering of Puerto Ricans, Mexicans and 2nd & 3rd generation Poles. I have learned to not just accept, but to embrace all the various cultures. These people have brought out the best in me. I know what truly matters because of the family I relate too.

Its hard to believe that just a few generations ago my great Grandfather, who was a leader in the KKK disowned his own daughter for marrying a Cherokee (the beloved Grandpa I talk about so often). I hope Great Grandpa Cole turns in his grave. He was an evil man.

I also have the unfortunate propensity of some of my supposedly *higher class* relatives to snobbery in its various forms.

Kind of ironic now that I am the one in the ghetto again.

Blood will tell. I need to work on my attitude.

Me at 17.

My neighborhood is basically not white. I look white. I am 3/4 white, I guess I should look it. When I was young girl and lived in this area though, I didn't look so white. My skin has grown paler with age. The shape of my face has changed somewhat due to maturity and dental work. I don't blend in anymore (I was often mistaken for Mexican descent as a teen). My friends as a teen were mostly not white.

I thought I could move back here and not have any problems. I was wrong. It makes me sad that anyone would judge, by my pale look, that I would bigotted and discriminatory. It bothers me that I struggled so hard to better myself and now my improved speech and carriage makes people I want to be friends with actually wary of me.

But what really pisses me off is that last night, at nearly 10 pm, 4 well-dressed boys who happened to be black came to my door and asked to see my son. I let Walter go to the door so he could talk just a minute with these boys who he thought wanted to be his friend and learn about skateboarding (Walter did not actually know them). One of the boys sucker punched him for no reason other than he was a "white boy in the wrong neighborhood".

I probably should have called the police, instead I just told the little brats off. Promised the next time they came to my door I would call the police. I probably should have dumped a pail of water on him so he would have to explain that to his parents....but I didn't. I've got to move. Walter can not blend in with his white white skin and his hazel eyes. Walter is the target I've always said didn't exist.

For years I've said everytime I had to be tough and strong, and everytime I defended the rights of minorities (of which many of my family are). *You can take the girl out of the ghetto, but you can't take the ghetto out of the girl*.



I don't fit in anymore.

What I Believe

The theme of this essay is, "I believe". I believe I am going to begin by having a beer, which I truly believe is a great aid to creativity. I believe I am going to call it my muse.




I believe that I am nothing more or less than a crazy mixed up kid who grew up to be a crazy mixed up woman. I believe that I am just as good as I am evil and just as insane as I am sane.


I believe that a contradiction of terms is always a great start for a conversation.

I believe that life is not to be taken seriously, except for God, and I believe that God has a sense of humor. I believe that is why he made monkeys so silly acting and giraffes so silly looking.


I believe in the theories of creation, evolution and alien genetic experimentation. I believe the fact that we are all here is proof of all three.






I believe in practicing faith, keeping hope, and being spiritual. I believe that most religions started out being truthful. Now I believe that most religious books contain only grains of the truth with more being left out, rearranged and outright changed than what was originally left in. I believe in one God with many names who loves us all....unconditionally.


I believe the World could do with more unconditional love.


I believe that life begins with a passionate moment and that you should try to sustain that all of your life.

I believe that all things should be passionate. I believe in passionate eating. I believe you should chew and swirl your foods and drinks in your mouth. I believe in finger foods.

I believe in passionate tenets. You should stand up and be heard in your opinions just as often as you sit back and listen. I believe in speaking my mind, even when I am out of it.

I believe in passionate 2 hour lovemaking and passionate quickies. I believe in passionate perversions. I believe in passionate emotions and passionate actions.

I believe that you should be passionate about your family and passionate about your friends. I believe in unconditional love. I believe that love and discipline are not necessarily separate.

I believe in passion. I believe that passion is wasted when it only refers to sex. I believe that great sex is preferable to great wealth and I believe that a great life is preferable to a great vocation.

I believe in taking chances and paying your dues. I believe in attempting the impossible just to prove a point. I believe that scars are beautiful proof of surviving life.

I believe in finishing what I start.

I believe that if something doesn’t actually breathe, then it really isn’t worth much. I believe in the intrinsic value of life.

I believe in taking responsibility for my actions, good or bad.

I believe in "I’m sorry". I believe in forgiving. I believe that sometimes good people make bad mistakes and that bad people can make a good effort. I believe that people can change sometimes. I believe they can change back.

I believe in always playing to win, even against beginners. I believe in finishing a game even if you are losing. I believe that winners deserve a victory dance. I don’t believe that losers should be forced to thank a bunch of gloating winners for a good game. I believe the proper response to that is "I’m gonna get you next time Sucka". I believe in rematches. I believe in learning from your losses.

I believe that if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. I believe if that doesn’t work, maybe you should hire the job out. I believe that life is too short to waste much time doing something you don’t particularly like very much and/or aren’t very good at. I believe that is why we are not alone.

I believe that all children, even other peoples brats, are a gift to the world and that we should listen to their simple wisdom. I believe too many people pay too much attention to what their children are eating and not enough attention to what their children are thinking. I believe that children deserve certain rights, including safety and respect. I believe that there is no such thing as quality time, only time and you should give your children as much of that as you possibly can.



I believe in Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Irish faeries, Leprechauns, and the Easter Bunny but not the Great Pumpkin (well maybe just a little). I believe in making your own Halloween costumes. I believe they should be scary.

I believe that making up stories is not the same as lying. I believe in pretending.

I believe in playing in the rain. I believe in squishing your toes in the mud. I believe that every child should at least eat one real worm. I believe that a child who always has a clean face and hands has terrible parents. I believe that children should be filthy by the end of every day. I believe a clean child is not having enough fun.

I believe that birthdays are the most important holidays of all.

I believe in thanking my Mother for all she went through to bring me out on my birthday.

I believe in love that lasts forever and in love that lasts a while. I believe in love at first sight, second sight, and I believe sometimes it grows out of long long friendships. I believe that there really is a very thin line between love and hate.

I believe in a woman’s right to choose, but I believe that the choice ought to be life.

I believe in always saying Hello and Goodbye. Even when it hurts.

I believe in keeping promises or not making them. I believe that a person is only as good as their word.

I believe that we put too much stock in maturity and not enough stock in immaturity. I believe we try too hard to be grown up and not hard enough to keep the wonderment of a child. I believe in 2nd, 3rd, and 4th childhoods. I believe in having even more if you can.

Now I believe I am going to have another beer. C’mere Muse!

Defining what a relationship means

A relationship means wanting to talk with and actually know someone, inside and out not just the pretty things. It’s wanting to make eye contact, not voice contact, its wanting to touch each other. It's needing to touch each other. Its spending time together without dating and all the false trappings of your best clothes, fine restaurants and best behavior all the time. When a person actually has a relationship with someone they want to share thoughts and hopes and dreams. Fantasies too. But even more they want to RELATE (like in the word relationship) with that person on a regular basis....dare I say day-to-day). Its actually caring what each other thinks about. Its wanting to live the dream out. Its wanting to make a fantasy real. Its giving the best you have to someone who is giving their best to you. Its accepting the worst because the best makes it worth the effort. A relationship means actually having sex...not just talking a good game. A relationship means compromise, not convenience. It means knowing each other’s friends and families well enough to laugh about them behind their backs and know that you will both get the joke. It means being a part of someone's life, not just hearing about it second hand. It means that you both look out for each other for what you don't need. It means that you both look to each other for what you do need. It’s a little like friends with benefits but much better. You let yourself become INVOLVED in the other person’s life even if it means a little hassle in yours. You trust each other and depend on each other. It means actually laying the groundwork for a future together and making and obeying the charter rules you set out. Its planning for what you both want....not what one can fit in. Its making room in your life for him/her, and inviting them to stay, not just for a while but forever. Eventually it means living together (marriage...I don’t know...maybe I could be convinced if I had all of the above going on) and living your life for the benefit of the relationship and each other. It means working together for better days ahead. It means making a shared history, sharing troubles and sharing joys. It means actually sharing lives. It's a start....Relationship is a pretty big word to define.

Compatibility Issues

One of my biggest problems with compatibility has to do with my growing up poor and tough. Most people in that situation are not real big intellectuals so those who are born into families that value the things I've learned to value are a bit put off by the fact that I am so tough and dare I say *street smart*. The men I’m attracted to and who are attracted to me, tend to be from the other side of town. Often they are quite surprised by the truth of me. Its not like I get into bar fights or anything.... but there are some differences between me and the upper class ladies I used to socialize with and sometimes still must.... I won't listen to a hypocrite drone on and on for one thing.... I will call them on it every time... I won't pretend to be someone I'm not anymore, even if it isn't socially acceptable . I guess I really just don't care what a lot of people think about me. I like stating my views even if they are different. I can take a challenge and enjoy a debate. At any rate I wonder if these basic facets of my personality are some of what dooms me to unhappy relationships and I wonder if a good relationship is worth pursuing if I have to change the very basis of who I am and what I want to stand for. Anymore I'm thinking "nope....not worth it". I realize I don't have to be middle class to be happy. Truth be told, I wasn’t happy when I was better than middle class. Money can’t buy it. Right now I feel pretty damned happy and I don't have anything really good but this magic box and my worthless car... I surround myself with people who love and accept me and walk away from those who don’t. I rent cheap. My yard is a mess because I gave up all my garden tools in the divorce. Yet I'm happy. Home is where I want to be. Life is funny isn't it. All those things I worked for I gave up. The life I strove so hard to exist in, I walked away from and the one I ran away from I ran right back to. The only thing that is missing from my life is romantic love. My problem is my lifestyle and ethical leanings are definitely *tough chick from the hood* but my work life and intellectual capacity are more in tune with *uppercrust and nosejobs*. As always...I end up divided among two extremes.

Backwards on a Train

Sometimes I feel as if I am facing backwards on a train. It's that feeling you feel when you know you're getting to your destination but you can only actually see where you've been and the landmarks you are passing. The last (and only) time I tried to ride a train in that position I was pretty dizzy by the end of it.


That's what I seem to be doing a lot of lately. Judging my present by my past....I'm not sure whether that is a good or bad thing. I think it started out a couple of years ago when I started telling the truth about almost everything...good or bad.





Something happened inside of me the day I took my own last name back. I started trying to be the person I think I was supposed to be instead of the one I became.


I started living instead of just speaking truth. I quit being sorry that I wasn't the person everyone wanted me to be. I quit caring what a lot of people thought. I'm not sure if that is a good or bad thing.


I know I've done some pretty risky things. I'm not as well off financially and I don't have the power I once had. I feel better though...inside and out. I look in the mirror and I don't see a stranger.


I don't feel like I am wearing a mask


Maybe its just the female version of a midlife crisis.



Whatever.....All I know is that despite a little queasiness from time to time, I am finally enjoying the ride.

I don't need a man

I don’t need a man. I can raise my kids and I make enough money to live on. I don’t get why I want one so bad. Its really not sex either. I like it. I like it a lot, but I could live forever without having it with a man I didn’t care for. Its not the companionship. I like my own company, I have my kids and the rest of our ever expanding family, and plenty of friends online and off. I definitely do not need any more emotional crap from someone....I have enough of my own for 20 people. It must be some kind of inborn survival instinct. All I know is I am miserable without love until I am miserable with it. But the times between the misery....OMG....That is heaven to me