Chupa Chups

hey there, virgin! still flexing that v card i see.

Is it smart to forego dating for a life of solitude? Should you be considered the next Mother Theresa? Do you devote the rest of your life to yourself, your family of origin, your career, and your dog? Which dater are you? The serial or the loner? I fit into the latter, the loner. My relationships are few and far between. They come every couple of years; you know, like, leap years. Currently, I’m in the year of solitude. Is it by choice? Not necessarily. Things just seem to work out that way for me. It could be that I’m picky. It could be that I’m open to anything. It could also be that I spend way too much time at home or in the dog park, which you would think is a great dating/meeting ground, but it isn’t- at least not at my local dog park. Would you consider my year of solitude a funk? Or just a year of re-virginization? Did you read that book The Accidental Virgin? I did. I’m finding a lot of similarities with the main character and myself. I’ll admit it. I’ll admit it. November was the last time- to quote the Jersey Shore cast- I “smushed.” I’m not saying that my BOB hasn’t been used. I’m just saying….nothing has entered that wasn’t battery operated. (My apologies for the “graphic” image.) Yes, come November. I’ll become the accidental virgin. Does that erase all my not-so-good experiences? Does that make my number be back at zero? Wouldn’t that be nice?! As you can see, asking questions is what I do best. I do it in my every day life. I ask a bunch of people, well, a bunch of questions. Some can be invasive and some just have no filter. I always give people the option of not answering. I am not a court of law; therefore, I do not require answers. So, let’s revisit my lack of a dating life. I don’t go out as much. If I do go out, it’s with friends. Said friends are usually in relationships and come coupled. No single ladies woo hoo chicks action. Eh…I’m sick of overanalyzing my dating life. It’s the past that doesn’t die or at least shut up. Here we start. The countdown to my birthday, November, the couple holidays. Bleh. Shall we have a throw up fest?

hello there, april

She swerves in and out. Full of passion then down in the dumps. She can’t maintain. She tries to hold on but can’t. Sometimes the voices grow louder, sometimes she shuts them up. Developing patterns for her should come easily, normally. However, she only sticks to the ones that are not good for her. The ones that hold her back. What is she lollygagging behind for? Doesn’t she understand the direness of it all? She’s almost all used up. Will the bursts last a day, two or three? Will the depression hole be 100 feet, 200 feet or 500 feet? Pick and choose. Maintain or push forward. Why does she keep relaxing? Is it really relaxing when she gets surges of anxiety? The anxiety attacks don’t go away. They grow more powerful. The holes just become deeper and darker. Wake up. Wake her up. Someone wake her up. She’s got the passion deep down inside. The energy is there. The surges are there. The hollowness is also there. Make her see what she needs to do. The irony of her inconsistency. For all it’s worth, she could’ve been a contender.

wet nose freckle face

With a wet nose and deep soulful brown eyes you have my heart. Your skin is so pink and spotty. Your fur is so white and spotty. You’re by all means a teenager. You’re definitely a rebellious teenager. You want to be your own boss and own your domain. You want play and food only when you want it. The cuddling stops at the door. You don’t appreciate your momma’s hugs and kisses anymore. You think they’re embarrassing. You want more space in the bed. You want non-stop meaty bones by your bed. I wish I was around to see you as a puppy. I wish I could’ve spared you any pain. Hopefully I can give you a fulfilling, healthy, and happy life. I’d like your life to be full of play; hours and hours of play. I want you to develop into a well-mannered adult. An adult that is respectful, loving, and overall friendly. I want the world to notice you as the best they’ve ever seen. You’re my pride and joy and my family member. I will never abandon you or give you up. You and I are now one. If I should lose my home, I’ll make sure you still have the best. I’ve got a tent and aero bed for when times get rough. I’ll make sure to still exercise you and scavenge for you. You deserve the best. I want you to be happy. I want you to be uncontrollably happy. I adore you. I will always cherish you. I’ll always be there for you. You’re definitely my pride and joy.

a beautiful, happy day

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. What time is it? Not five o’clock? Ugh. Look busy. Turn your head. Look busy. What else can I Google? Google about birthdates, dogs, herbal medicine, etc. Is it too early to Google about Black Friday? Ugh. How am I feeling today? I’m not sure. I think a bit better. I’m still slightly sad but better than I was about three to four days ago. I’ve been feeling extra lonely. Growing up I’ve always had this image of myself of someone in a wealthy lifestyle but all alone. I was to amass a fortune, attend galas, donate lots of money but be alone. My life was one of making and giving away money. I didn’t picture a husband, kids or a dog. I thought corporate America would build me up to be one of its minions. Sadly, the being alone part has come true. I have no husband or kids. I do have a dog though. I guess that’s progress. Almost everyday I feel alone. I feel entrapped in my life of solitude and independence. I was taught to be independent and do things on my own. Sadly, I wasn’t taught how to share or do it with others. As a result of this, my achievements, successes, and happy moments have always been alone and behind close doors. I’ve never truly had anyone to share my intimates with, my life. I’d like to change that picture. I created my life and now I want to alter its course. After all, I am the author and protagonist. In the future, I still see myself well off BUT now I’m with a life partner who is hot, has a nice upper body, is romantic, and I have tons of good friends and loving people around me. I still attend galas and donate money but now I have more love in my life. I am happy. I am content. I have a loving, gorgeous, and romantic husband. We laugh together and spoil each other rotten. We complement each other well and we inspire each other. Our dogs are wonderful as well. They love running around in our big three bedroom, three and a half bathroom apartment in NoHo. After about five years of marriage, my husband and I are contemplating children. We’ve saved up enough money to retire and are already living lavishly well. I want to give my husband four children. During the holidays, we’re always together. In fact, everyone celebrates the holidays at our place. Both of our families adore each other. At summer time, we’re away at our summer home. The children love playing in the ocean. They know they are loved and are happy. We are one big happy family- Me, my husband, our four children, and our four dogs.

kicked but not forgotten

Dear Mr. Nice Douchebag,

After our year-and-a-half long relationship ended, you’ve wanted to be friends. We talk like normal. We’ve hung out as normal, minus the kissing part of course. Lately I’ve been hinting at the fact of possibly getting together for the holidays. You’ve slyly not answered any of these hints. Instead you skip over them. My spidey senses tell me something is amiss. We just broke up. I get this is tough. However, I’m wondering why the suddenness of it all. I’m putting two-and-two together and they add up to the fact that you’ve met someone. You’re interested in someone; hence why you don’t answer my hints. I’d like to tell you that I know. When I sit down and think about things, they just pop up. Usually I’m warm; sometimes scalding. I’m feeling warmer with every hint. Therefore, this is an open letter to let you know that I will stop hinting. I’ll leave you alone. No we cannot maintain a friendship, especially not so soon after a break up. For some reason, I think I’m right on the money. Therefore, I’ll let you do you. Thanks for playing the game. I ended my mourning yesterday. I continue with my life because my world didn’t revolve around you. Thanks and good bye.

Yours truly,

Chupa Chups.

too many ways to live life

As it would appear, I’m in good spirits. I’m not slouching as much, and my walk is taller. Some may even say I walk the catwalk. I’m in transformation mode; making sure I address all issues. Sadly, the other day I got reinforcements of the negative kind. I was informed that a close friend was diagnosed with breast cancer. As sad and devastating as the news is, she’s in the best of spirits. She seems ready for the battle. It doesn’t come as a surprise to her. At the early age of 40, her mother was taken. She knew there was always a possibility. I’m definitely uplifted by her courageous attitude. Were it I, I wouldn’t come out form under the sheets. I’m using her courage to push forward. Unfortunately, life and the future are unexpected. We must look onward and plan, but still live in the present. We need to live in the present without fear and regret. All we can do is live this moment. The past we lived and can’t change; the future is unforeseen and thus rendered uncontrollable. For now, we have choices. Face life with a positive attitude or hide. I’m choosing to live and face it. I’m tired of living in fear. I’m proud this beautiful young woman is my friend and confidant.

...*&^%&I

Obsessively, compulsed, and disordered. Anxiety-ridden and pill popping. Insomniac one day, hypersomnia the next. High soaring skies, deep valley lows. Today is yesterday’s future and tomorrow will be today’s threat. Impossibility but possibly magnanimous. Throat muscles clench. The strain. They have quick jerkings. Hard to breathe. It’s hard to exhale. A flood approaches in the north while an earthquake stirs in the south. Is it time to go yet? The sky is closing in. Everyone seems bigger. The skin crawls. Scratch, scratch, and scratch the maggots away. Did you see how big that one was? Pulsating legs, fast beating heart. Take my hand. It is sweating but cold. Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Only two minutes have passed. Only two minutes have passed. Look down. Look at the watch. Scratch your arm. Look up. Watch out for that car. Watch out for the cars in the opposite direction. Step back. Step BACK. Wait on the curb. Wait on the curb. The orange hand begins. Tick. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tick. Tock. Green. Go. Cross. Look up. Are we there? No. When did the commute take a century? Help. I may collapse.

splish, splash; i'm taking a bath

Welcome to my fragile world. One day I’m up, the next I’m down. For the most part, I’m in limbo. It’s always a riddle me this or riddle me that. Should there always be a smack? I snap out of it if (better when) I’m ready. I can’t control it. It’s an urge. It’s a cyclone. It’s more like a gravitational pull. Gravity- pull, pull, pull. To the center of the core I go. The core is filled with lots of darkness. In this darkness, there are splotchy holes. Splotchy holes everywhere. What’s splotchy? I don’t know. It’s the hole inside of the core. You take one step and SWISH, you fell into a hole. Watch your step, I say. It’s dangerous in there. You’d do best to wear your hardhat. Also, don’t forget your armor. Did I also mention your raincoats and galoshes? Galoshes- also known as boat shoes, dickersons or overshoes. Swish, swish, splash. Swish, swish, splash. The dark mud, you’re covered in it. Did you like the trip? Would you like to visit again? Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a frequent flier, but to each their own. My own. What is my own? I guardian a dog. I guardian my life. Both of which I believe I’m OK in. I could do better. Swish, Swish. Are you going back down? Why? It’s dark and splotchy. It’s dark and SPLOTCHY! Why?! Fine. I bid you adieu for I shall not go with you this time.

happy, merry married

NB: Chupa Chups, Jr. My apologies for the broken record (post).

Yo! Yo! YO! Hey! HEY! HEY! Back it up! Back it up! You were so 2004! Do you know how long it took to get over you? A summer romance can last a very long time. A very, very, very long time. How does the saying go? Few minutes of pleasure, nine months of pain? Listen! It took me years to get over you! I had to hear about your girlfriends. Your possible boyfriend. Your engagement. Your MARRIAGE! I can’t believe after all this time you decide to make contact once more. After six long years, you attempt to cut open a 95% healed wound. I tried to keep in contact but you wouldn’t have it. Now after you’ve been married for almost a year you decide to say- Hey, how’s it going?! Are you insane?! Clearly! Luckily it didn’t sting as bad as it would’ve five years ago. Luckily it didn’t take me months to get over this. I’m thankful. I’m so very thankful for all the jabs throughout the years. They tore down this magical, wholesome picture I had stored. The jabs helped me heal. They hurt but they helped me heal. I’ll allow you this one pass but no more. Be on your merry and married life.

cc, jr

Dearest Chupa Chups,

I’ve been reading your blog, and although mildly entertaining, I feel as if you whine too much. With this open letter, I plan on instructing you to the error of your ways. First, you’re very repetitive. Get over your past relationships. They are in the past for a reason. You’ve learned your lesson. You’ve experienced a moment. Please move forward. Stop living in the past. It only harbors more resentment. Second, I would like for you to quit restarting your life. Every post of starting fresh is meaningless unless you back it up with actions. One step in front of the other is all it takes. We’ve all been there but eventually we dig our feet out of the cement. Stop letting procrastination win. Also, stop blaming your failed attempts at procrastination. It’s there doing its job. Are you? Third, I find you mildly quirky. Ever thought of being a comedienne? No? Good. Work on it and then get into it. Do an open mic or something. See what happens.

Your avid reader,

Chupa Chups, Jr.

Dear Chupa Chups, Jr.

Thank you for your note. I find it very helpful to read feedback from my fans. I appreciate you taking the time to write your letter and offering such great suggestions. I’ll definitely take them into consideration.

Hope you keep reading!

All the best,

Chupa Chups

crickets are loud

With a piercing hot sun, rustling trees, and the chirping of birds, I sit in silence. I sit in suburbia. I sit in a town that’s not my own. I sit in silence. It’s very quiet in this town compared to mine. My town can’t even be called a town. It’s a city; a very, very big city. I like my city. Although I’m not acquainted with all my neighbors in my city, I still feel at home. I feel relatively safe in a not so safe place. Here in suburbia, however, I feel…. I don’t know. I have a new dog now. His name is Sir Charles Nathaniel Michael Lockwood. In this town, he sometimes feels scared. I, too, sometimes feel scared. I get lost even in my city, so getting lost here is also a piece of cake. He seems to be OK with suburbia for the most part, but sometimes he’s not. He gets scared. I get scared. He loves the grass though. Here, in this town, there is LOTs of grass. There’s definitely more grass and trees than in my city. Birds are always chirping here and he loves that. He loves to chase them. I don’t think he gets it that they can fly away. Oh well….who am I to say you can’t really chase the skies? I watch a lot more National Geographic here. They have no DVR. In my DVR back at home, I have recorded soaps and movies for moments of silence. Here there is no DVR. Here they have a CVS. The CVS is the highlight of this town. I kid you not. It’s the highlight of the town. The second highlight is the Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robbins. These “three” establishments are the highlights of the town. As I walk through the town, I notice that I’m the only one walking. I notice that my dog and I are the only people really in the street. People drive here. They drive a lot. I don’t know how to drive. I never cared much for it or needed it to survive. I don’t drive. SO, I walk. I walk in this town that doesn’t walk. They drive. Here I sit in silence. Walking to the CVS is only fun once. It’s definitely not an all day sort of activity. It’s not like they have a proper meeting place with TVs and music. It’s a regular CVS. In my city we have lots of Duane Reades; here there are no Duane Reades. I sit. I sit in silence. I sit in suburbia because I wanted a change of scenery. My fight/flight response always leads to flight. My passport is always handy. This is why I’m in suburbia. I’m in flight mode. Over what? I do not know. I’m constantly in flight. When I take steps to fly, I feel calm. I feel as if I’m doing the right thing. However, when I clip on the airplane seatbelt, I feel like I may have made a mistake. The first ounce of doubt clicks in. The second appears later on at night just before bedtime. I’m in flight mode once again because I don’t want to stay and face whatever is scaring me. I’m in suburbia. It’s very silent here. The silence drowns me. I feel engulfed by the silence. The National Geographic channel is on very loud. It’s at a higher decibel than normal because of the silence. It’s a drowning silence. It makes me think. It makes the feelings come out. I’m in suburbia.

jabs and stabs

When I am resentful I lash out. I lash out at you. I lash out at you for abandoning me. I feel as if it is abandonment when all of a sudden you disappear. You feel as if it is alright to pick up whenever you want. You go away for a while, come back, and expect me to just start back again. I can’t. I have real feelings. You abandoned me. You are not there any more. I’m still here. I’m waiting for your arrival or some sort of apology. Days go by and I get neither. Now we are into months, I still wait. I am still waiting. Months go by. I’m still waiting. Once I hit the year mark, I get the hint. You’ve gone. Well….look at that…its two years now. How are you? Um, I’m fine. You left. I was coming back though. Really? I hadn’t noticed. I waited two years with nothing. I’m not happy with this situation. Please don’t approach me or I’ll bite. I’ll take a bite out of you. Not a physical one but a metaphorical one. You abandoned me. I’m no happy or OK with that. Please explain yourself. Nope. It’s not good enough. I don’t trust you now. You leave. Things aren’t the same. I know it. Things won’t get back to the sameness. I’ve been abandoned. I feel abused. I feel left behind. You did this too many times. Why? Did I do something wrong? I don’t trust you. I won’t ever trust you. You left. You left me alone to die. Thank you for doing so. I woke up because of it. I’m not trying again. In fact, I’ll make sure to cut you before you cut me. I’ve got the sarcastic gene in me. My tongue will cause whiplashes. One after the other, the criticisms and small jabs will keep coming. Until I feel vindicated, this from the looks of it will take years to remedy.

void

Void. Empty. Hole. Where human emotions are inserted, my box has a huge gapping hole. It makes me feel empty inside because I don’t experience things in the same way. I have a void. I don’t know how to fill the hole up. I excommunicate myself from human society as best I can. It helps in the beginning but begins to sting in the next stage. I prevent negativity and let downs by staying far away; creating the ever elusive ten-foot pole. I can’t fill this void. I don’t know how to. I’ve attempted to assimilate but somehow I still feel like an outcast. I’ve gone through many of life’s stages feeling the exact same way. I can’t penetrate the inner core so I stay in the outskirts. Nothing fills it up. I’ve tried material things, education, travel, and even people. It doesn’t work. Why doesn’t it work? How can I grow out of this? Is it permanent? What exactly is this feeling? I take a deep breathe in and exhale. I take another. Another….. Soon, if I don’t pace myself and my thoughts, it becomes a panic attack. Count…one, two, three, four….breathe….five, six, seven, eight….breathe…nine……ten. Breathe. One breathe in, two out. I don’t know what to do. I have resources and use them but I can’t shake it off. I can’t shake it off. Help.

map of the us

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I’m a traveler. I love to travel. Traveling is fun. When I plan for trips, I get excited. I feel like all is right with the world. I not only travel in my home state but I travel the world. Sadly, I don’t know much about the United States of America; a country comprised of fifty lovely states and its territories. Whenever I travel abroad, I always tell myself that I want to see America; the real America, not just my own city—the sides of America. I want to see the oddities that people see alongside highways. I want to see a freeway. I want to see America. America the beautiful, she has beautiful territories/states from sea to shinning sea. I want to see the Pacific Ocean on the American coast. I travel abroad and they call me an American but I don’t know what America really is. I want to see states full of Republicans. I want to see trailer parks. I want to see Nashville, TN. To be quite honest, I’ve been dying to see Nashville. I love country music (which is something not appreciated in my state). SO seeing as I accomplish all (or most) the goals I set forth, I want to set this one and achieve it with flying stars- fifty to be exact. My goal: In 2010, I want to see ALL fifty states of the United States of America. I want to start from scratch. I’ve seen about eleven states already but I’m going to start new, with a fresh clean slate map. I’m going to be posting about the states I’ve visited and post pictures. Internet world out there, please comment on what I should see in your state. I’m going to need tons of help. I don’t have my driver’s license so it’s going to be tough. Ha. It’s a challenge I accept though. Here’s to my journey. I want a life worth living. I want adventures through and through. My life thus far has been composed of many anxious moments and I want to stop that. I want to enjoy every moment and stop thinking about the world and my future. Ultimately, I’m only here for a few moments, I might as well enjoy the ride. Join me in my journey.

as we howl

I’m letting it out once and for all. I’m not going to cry about any more. I’m tired but not so tired. I need to move on and not focus on you and what you are doing and not doing. Our time has passed and therefore I should move on. It’s harder said than done but I need to force myself to do so. I’m stuck. I’m stuck in limbo waiting for a return to what I thought was safe and secure. You’ve moved on. You’re looking fine. It seems you’re living your life as best as you can. You certainly aren’t skipping a beat. You’re dancing and laughing. You’re showing the world who you are and what you have. I need to do the same for myself. Let’s face it. I live in my own worst nightmare, a nightmare of my own creation. I sit and cry and stare. I stare at the fun things you’re are doing and imagine myself beside you. I weep for loss time. I weep for our past. You’ve moved on. I have not. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but for some reason I can’t. It’s the masochism in me. Why can’t I just be macho and move on? I need it. You’ve obviously done it without as much as a wink. Guess you weren’t that into me after all. I weep. I weep. I weep for once was. I weep for what could’ve been. I continue on my life journey looking back at you. Waiting to reopen that door, a door you shut on my face. Thanks for that. Thanks for not giving us a shot. I look at the skies and imagine my life up there. Unfortunately, I’ve always felt that my life was to be a solitary confinement. I was to be confined by lots of riches but no one to share it with. It’s my destiny. A destiny I’ve chosen for myself. A destiny to protect me from the hurt and sorrow I’ve felt. Reliving the past is not fun at all. Looking at your Facebook pictures just rips me up inside… just a little. A little rip each day is what I give myself from looking at those pictures. As I mentioned before, I’m a little masochistic over you. The great Britney Spears said it best “I’m a slave for you.” I wish I was no longer enslaved with you. I want to be happy and free. Is that so darn hard? Thanks. You’re probably not reading this but I write anyway. I write to let it out. I’ve always had trouble identifying my feelings…emotions…whatever you call them. I’ve never been privy to what they are and what they try to tell me. I lie. I’ve always ignored them. I stuff them in a box deep down inside. I don’t want to see or feel them. They disgust me for being so weak, emotional, and human. I’ve always been disgusted by human emotions and pain. The fortified brick wall that surrounds me is cool. I like sitting up against it. In the summer time it keeps me cool. The sun doesn’t penetrate me. In the winter time, it keeps the frigid air and snow out. Did I mention that I like the winter? It’s one of my best seasons because it is darker for a long time. The light bothers me. It blinds me. You liked the summer time. I like the winter time. I get to play in the winter. I get to walk the streets while everyone is scared and in a hole at home. They hibernate and party. I let out a huge howl. I rejoice.

a wagging tail

I narrowly escaped the volcanic eruption over Iceland. I’m very thankful that my flight was two days before the volcano erupted. Unfortunately, not many people can say the same. As thousands continue to be stranded, the world is more or less at a stand still with Mother Nature. Although my flight across the Atlantic was successful, a flight for the Polish president (Mr Lech Kaczynski), the first lady (Mrs Maria Kaczynska), and others didn’t have such a happy ending. As Poland mourns for its leader, many around the world continue to live their lives undisturbed. I’m not saying that we should stop living our lives for someone’s death but a little more respect should definitely be given. What I find most surreal about this unfortunate situation is that I haven’t heard much about it. When Michael Jackson, a mere pop icon, passed away, the world stood still. Isn’t that sad? I think it is. The world stops for a singer but not for country’s leader. I can’t comment on the President’s leadership but regardless the world should show more respect. Or so I think.

My stress levels keep rising. I’m anxious and stressed. I’m stressed over my unsuccessful dog adoption procedure. I never thought it would take this long to adopt a dog or find the right one. Being the dog lover that I am I would take any dog but the behaviorists don’t agree. They want to find a good match for the dog, which I am very grateful for. These people take the time to get it right. Unfortunately, their match finding criteria mean I have to keep searching and searching. I cried last night. I took a trip to the humane society and the ASPCA and saw two possible dogs. When I asked to meet with them, they behaviorist said they weren’t good matches for me. One didn’t belong in the city and the other one howled too much for apartment living. I submitted applications for fostering and I have three dogs to check out before I stop being so active in the search. This dog search is draining. If I were to be on the Suze Orman show she would tell me I can’t even afford a dog so why am I even looking. I know I can’t afford things with credit card debt but if I wait for the credit card debt to be zero I’ll have lived a very boring life. I understand the need to fix finances but at what cost? My sanity? My life? I can honestly tell you that I’d be too stressed worried about getting the right numbers. I was stressed about getting the right numbers. I stopped living to make it right. I STOPPED LIVING TO MAKE THE NUMBERS RIGHT. Is that what it’s all about? Cutting back so much that I end up becoming a shut in with the lights off and the TV off all in efforts to save money and get on the black of things? I’m sorry. I’ve been doing that and it only depresses me more. I’d rather live my life than try every second to be in black. Clearly I’m angry today. I’m disappointed today. I’m feeling lost. I’m feeling beaten. BUT good news, I have defense mechanisms that always make me “fix myself”. I always end up looking at what I can “fix” in myself so that I won’t feel so bad. It’s both a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing because it technically is a good avenue- better than sinking to drugs and alcohol; but it’s a curse because I don’t deal with things properly. Oh well.

yes i'm insulted

So it’s all or nothing, huh? I can’t have an in between; some intermediate speed? Why? Why does it have to be super speed? Why can’t I just take my time?

SO the week started out hectic. I was trying to save a life. I did my best. I went to the shelter twice this week. I met the dog. The dog was exactly what the description said plus a few extras, i.e., severe food aggression, a cold, and an ear infection. I came to the shelter with an open mind. I went to assess the situation. Weighing the pros and cons, as well as my own novice experience, I decided to forego it. It was in the dog’s best interest to have a pack leader that knew what it was doing and I wasn’t it. I could deal with “regular” dogs but not aggressive dogs. It was a dominant breed and because it had severe fear issues I felt I could rehabilitate it. Unfortunately, I was mistaken. The dog showed signs of improving but it was hard for me to find it a home. SO I told the rescue group I couldn’t proceed. It hurt to make this decision but from the talk I had with the person whose dealt most with the dog, it seems the dog has been taken of the euthanasia list more than once. It was mostly based on that decision. People were interested or else the dog would’ve been dead. I felt like a Peta protestor for a few days. I decided to keep the focus on myself (not to be selfish but to be realistic). I’m going on vacation. Personally, I think it’s wrong to make a commitment and bail at the first chance you get. I felt badly “saving” the dog only to dump it off on my friends while I was away. Well, apparently looking at the situation realistically wasn’t that nice. I haven’t heard from the rescue group. Clearly, they were only looking to save a life, not to see if it was a good fit. They kept pushing this dog on me even knowing that I’ve never truly had a dog for more than a week. The pulled out all the stops and I saw several red flags that at first I ignored. Why can’t I tell the shelter the rescue group is covering the costs? Why did you choose to ignore the fact that the dog has “severe food aggression”? When we first spoke you informed me that the dog was not a fearful biter. You lied. The shelter said it did. You tell me the shelter is exaggerating. I’m stuck in the middle. I choose to do what was best for me and what I thought was best for the dog. The shelter is one opposite and you are the other. I tried. I must inform you that I felt insulted that you didn’t even acknowledge my email. I was giving it a good go and by not responding with at least an “OK” it makes it seem a bit as an insult. I made a decision that you didn’t like and you quickly turned on me. It’s like when customers go into a store and as soon as the sales associate knows you are not interested they become a Jekyll/Hyde person. No need to be rude. What would Emily Post say to your lack of manners? In any case, I write to let out the insult I am feeling.

hamilton's rule in application

I’m caught in a whirlwind, tornado, and tsunami. I’m trying to be a decent human being. I’m trying to save the world. Meanwhile, I’m losing control. I have taken the focus off myself to my own detriment. It’s led to a detrimental state of mind and spirit. In efforts to help another being, I’m lessening my own chances of a healthy state of mind. Providing support to another does require that less be provided for you but this seems like an extreme case. Helping you shouldn’t be a dangerous thing to me. If the costs outweigh the benefits, it’s detrimental and should be avoided. The altruistic behavior shouldn’t cost more than the benefit. Is this Hamilton’s rule in action? Perhaps. I don’t know anymore. I’m trying to regain footing. It’s hard. Its gut wrenching and making me feel guilty. You need a calm and assertive individual to help you out. Two nails can’t help each other. One anxiety prone individual isn’t much help to another anxiety prone individual. What can I do? I don’t know what to do? I’m being torn from limb-to-limb. Some say you may tear me limb-to-limb. I have to look out for my own health. I’m trying to save your health but then who’s looking out for mine. You have people looking out for you. I have me. If I don’t help me, I’m stuck. You have your cute puppy dog eyes. I have just me. I’m sorry. I have just me. I’m trying to look out for you as well. I took the extreme opinions out of the equation. I focused on what I can provide for you. I’m inexperienced. Yes, experience comes with delving into things but I’m still inexperienced. You need help; experienced help. I wish I could help but I can’t. I have a life. This is tough. I have to move forward. I have this little girl inside of me to look after. She has plans. She only has me to take care of her. It’s me and my inner me. You have you and other people. I’m sorry.

not so saintly after all

Please allow me to inform you that I am not Mother Theresa. I’m sure she was a nice lady but sadly I am not her. I do my part, e.g., recycling, volunteering, etc. However, I can’t commit to fully saving the world. It would be a major drain. I’m only but one person and I know I can’t do it all by myself or afford it. Ghandhi and Dr. King were troopers. I can’t begin to fill their shoes. I want to save one and I want to save all, but I have to be realistic and know that I can’t save them all. One lives today but ten die tomorrow. I don’t want the weight of those ten on my shoulders. I can do my part as best as I can. I can’t promise you anything and I most certainly can’t promise you perfection. I’m only one person. I, too, need help. Although I’m all for saving the environment and all its inhabitants, I simply can’t protect them all forever. Things have a natural course; I have a natural flow. Please accept my apologies. I am only able to do so much. I’m not Mother Theresa. I’m not Al Gore. I’m not Bill Gates. I may give to the homeless. I may volunteer at animal and human shelters. I may volunteer at the parks. However, I’m only me. I’m only one person. I feel guilty. I feel guilty for not being able to do more. I know my limitations. Sadly, I can’t save the world. One person is all it takes. One person saves and one person is saved. Allow me to give as best as I can, but please don’t push me to do more than I can. I appreciate your efforts, as I hope you’ll appreciate mine. Please don’t judge me, chastise me. I’ve done more than the average Jane. Please forgive me but Mother Theresa is dead and her shoes are something I don’t wish to fill.

sunny sunday

With fogged up eyes, I’m feeling sad, alone, and in pain. My eyes are foggy because I need to toss out these old contacts. I’m feeling sad because of financial issues. I’m feeling alone because I’m currently alone in my living room. Sad, alone, and in pain because I’m feeling overwhelmed in this living room; a room cluttered with tons of paper, bills, clean laundry, and just one hot mess. Although I tried taking care of myself this morning (because last night I had a Crumbs cupcake) by going for a long run, I’m now facing a piercing foot pain. I feel like bolting. Opening the door, boarding an airplane, and never really looking back because that’s how I decide to deal with things. It’s one of the only things that soothe me. All these ailments are curable, fixable. Step one: toss out those old and worn contacts. Step two: start picking up the mess that’s on the floor. Step three: fold the laundry and put it away. Please continue. Feeling sorry for myself doesn’t help. It only keeps me in this dark hole. There’s a light at the end of every tunnel and hole and I need to look for mine. As Ms. Suze Orman says, I need to face it to erase it. I need to get real with myself. If I keep living in denial, nothing will change. I need to face my reality and steer into the direction I’d like to move in. I need to move. Need to move as fast as I can. I’m not saying at super speed but at a more accelerated speed than I’m moving now, which is snail’s pace. It’s taken me weeks to mail out a form that took me two minutes to fill out. So I write. I write to clear my head. I write to figure and let things out. I need to exhale. I can’t continue to hold my toxic breathe and hope everything fixes itself. I need to breathe out. The toxins are killing my organs. I need my heart. I need my lungs. I need everything inside of me. All my organs have a function and by holding this toxicity, I’m only harming myself. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Now, exhale. Let it out. Let the pain out. Let the sadness out. Let the loneliness out. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Let the cool and calm air in. Let the warmth fill your hearth. Let the warmth fill your lungs. Let the warmth fill your stomach. Mmmm….it feels good. It feels good to breathe and exhale.