This was a dream I had the other night, and woke up crying.

She awoke to the sound of the refrigerator opening. This was her nightly cue that her son was awake again, and to make her way to the kitchen. Ever since the accident that happened right after his seventh birthday, this has been his ritual. She wished there was something more she could do for him, but for now she was more than willing to supervise his nocturnal venture.

She thought back to the accident as she wandered down to the kitchen.

 The two of them were on their way back from a shopping trip at the mall. School had just started, and she did her best to fulfill the long list of wants and needs submitted by his teacher. The ride home was not very long, especially since she always took the interstate instead of driving through town. He was a happy boy that night, with a belly full of hamburgers and French fries, and several shopping bags full of new ... Read more ...

In a little more than 24 hours, my man and I will be reunited, and this time for good. We have been apart for a whole year and a half, living in different hemispheres, making good use of Skype, facebook, Gmail, and any other online means of communication. Our real life visits have been exclamation points in our story, and have served to confirm to both of us that we wish to spend the rest of our lives together.

 

He has given up a lot to be with me, and I have given up a lot, too. We still do not have our families' blessing on our union, that is to say, not everyone approves. That's sad, but really, it isn't going to stop us. I am so madly in love with this man, that I really don't care about  what anyone thinks. He has professed his love to me, and feels the same way. I am such a lucky girl.

 

Now if only I can sleep tonight. I have a feeling that I will not be able to; the anticipation has made a mess of me. I can't eat, my stomach is in knots, and my mind is on Mars. Wi ... Read more ...

WTF? I'm trying to write a fucking blog here, and a fucking ad pops the fuck up in my way. What the fucking hell is that about? Now I really don't feel like writing my stupid fucking blog, I just feel like bitching about the fucking ad obscuring my writing. Fuck that, you fucking fuckers.

I didn't recognize his voice at first. After all, it had been five years since I had last heard it. "Well hello there!" The voice greeted me over the phone. I paused, a bit taken aback by this strange familiarity. "Hello?" was my response, cautious and inquisitive. Then I realized who he was, but did not indicate so. "You know who this is, don't you?" It was more of an insistence than a question. But I am stubborn and bitter, and would not give him the satisfaction. "No, no I don't." He sighed. "It's your Dad." he informed me, a grain of expectation clearly glinting in his voice. I quickly debated whether or not to end the call then and there. I paused, but my curiosity insisted that I find out what the hell he wanted. "Oh. Hello." I finally responded, a bit coldly.

 

"How are you?" he asked. This annoyed me, so I kept my answers short and curt, as though I was speaking to my ex-husband's lawyer. "Fine. And you?" "Well Kiddo, I'm not doing so good here. I was laying in a hospital bed while yo ... Read more ...

  No one liked Anissa. She thought it was because everyone else was jealous of her exceptional beauty and talent, but honestly, Anissa was just another untalented, over tanned, collection of hairspray and makeup. She bitched and moaned constantly about every little slight, real or imaginary, and most were not real. For this reason Anissa had no real friends. She was petty, rude and selfish, and would give you the shirt off her back if it meant she would look like a hero. Facebook and cell phones were wonderful tools for Anissa to create drama and attention for herself. Once she grew bored of her little attention ploy, she simply ended it. No discussions to mend hurt feelings, no apologies, no regrets. She then behaved as though she had never created an uproar over nothing, and expected everyone to follow suit.

 

   She expected her family to do whatever she wanted them to do. On a regular basis, Anissa demanded that her father drop everything and give her a ride, even though she was fu ... Read more ...