"Until The End"

Breaking Benjamin

So clever,
Whatever,
I'm done with these endeavors.
Alone I walk the winding way.
(Here I stay)
It's over,
No longer,
I feel it growing stronger.
I'll live to die another day,
Until I fade away.

[Chorus:]
Why give up, why give in?
It's not enough, it never is.
So I will go on until the end.
We've become desolate.
It's not enough, it never is.
But I will go on until the end.

Surround me,
It's easy
To fall apart completely.
I feel you creeping up again.
(In my head)
It's over,
No longer,
I feel it growing colder.
I knew this day would come to end,
So let this life begin.

[Chorus]

I've lost my way.
I've lost my way, but I will go on until the end.

Living is hard enough
Without you fucking up.

[Chorus]

I've lost my way.
I've lost my way, but I will go on until the end.

U-uh, u-uh

The final fight I'll win,
The final fight I'll win,
The final fight I'll win,
But I will go on until the end.

Been twisting in the wind for some months now.  Disinterest in all but the very necessary has crippled and caged me.  Desperate to escape the black hole that is my mind,  I reached out my hand.  Much to my surprise (and relief), several other hands reached to pull me out.  Slowly I'm emerging and returning to myself.

Why it happens is a mystery.  I hate the unexplainable but almost every part of me is just that.  My struggle will never end but its severity will vary with events and the passage of time.  Each time it happens I lose weakness and gain armor.

So much awaits my return.

For an entire month.

The days stretch on forever and then the weeks and months and years pass in the blink of an eye. 

I've had little time to think lately - been standing far more than sitting and running far more than walking.  So little idle time.. I always rush through the seemingly endless days only to look back and yearn for the time I wished away.  Pointless but necessary.  Counterproductive but so is fighting human nature so I keep wishing and wondering where all those long days went.  But I already know.  So instead of wishing I try to make them count... hopefully the next time I look back I might have something to show for it.

Hey... long time no blog.  Nothing has changed.  Thank God... not a damn thing wrong with a little continuity.

I took my girls to a farm to see some cows today.  I could have waited a month for the county fair but I had a free Saturday and I had promised them that at some point I would take them to a farm to see some cows.  So anyway, we get there and the creamery was pumping milk out of a holding tank and we were right up alongside some calf nurseries.  Calves have to remain sequestered for up to six months so they stay in the white dome things with some chicken coop fencing around it.  The particular farm that I decided to visit is not known for running an overly tight ship.... it's not uncommon for two or three or four stray cows to be wandering around the vehicles and the milking parlors.  They're not shy either... the cows will walk right up to you, sniffing and licking.. looking for a handout.  Not to mention the fact that they are covered in shit.

My kids were terrified of the "scary cows".  Even more so when we walked into the building with the milk holding tanks and were greeted by another cow.  That sent the kids, shrieking and crying back into the car, ending our visit.  When we got home they were convinced that there was a cow in the bathroom and wouldn't take a bath.  Oh well... I got a good laugh out of it.

Here's a picture of a cow:

Ass manager update. 

We never ended up pulling the prank on the ass manager.  At one point during planning it dawned on me that I am twenty-five years old and should be well past the age of practical jokes.  That realization pissed me off even more than the ass manager himself so that anger coupled with some fucked up goings on in my personal life turned me from my usual assertive self into an impatient, snippy bitch.

So anyway, the ass manager called in sick yesterday... for the next several days.  He claimed he was just under so much stress in the workplace (somebody fucking gag me).  We all got a good laugh out of that one (as we pull double shifts to cover for his stupid, lazy ass).  My aunt/manager pointed out that when I was around the guy practically sweats through his shirt because I am so "aggressive" in the way I do pretty much everything.  We laughed even harder about that.

I feel a tiny bit bad but I haven't had a decent amount of time with my kids in three weeks partially due to the lazy assistant manager.  No wonder I'm fucking aggressive.  The guy is dead weight and if he quits he'll have a harder time dinging the company for unemployment.  Sad but true and on that viciously angry note... I'm going to have a drink and read my kids a book.  I hope they remember me.  

I just realized I never checked my work schedule for the new week.  Goddammit.  Now I'll have to call my aunt, who is my immediate superior, in the morning and check it.  Then she'll go tell my dad, who is her boss, that I didn't check my next week schedule because I was too busy laughing it up with my co-worker/cousin at the end of Friday's shift.  Then my dad will tell me to remember to check the schedule because he doesn't want my aunt calling him and bugging him about stupid stuff in the middle of a meeting.  And I'll get the lecture about how I need to be more organized and it will help me and the company and time is money and blah, blah, blah.  I know all that stuff but lack of meds, two toddlers, and a new routine throws me off balance.

My normal schedule is a cush nine to five but my aunt likes to switch it up an hour here or there just to fuck with me sometimes.  Gotta love family, huh?  

Oh and don't get me started on the assistant manager guy.  Let's just say he puts the "ass" in assistant and I'm going to be boot-stomping it if he doesn't get with my program.  Harsh?  Hardly... this guy is just that stupid.

Tee hee.  Just wait till Wednesday, ass manager.  You'll never guess what we've got planned. 

Saturday night.

I can see my dad from where I sit.  He's worked his ten millionth 14-hour day today and now he's snoring away in his favorite chair.  I hope he takes a slightly easy tomorrow considering the occasion... not likely but I hope.

I've seen Dad age in the past few years.  When I graduated from high school he was forty... his face was remarkably unlined and his hair free of any gray.... he was mistaken for my brother on more than one occasion (much to my chagrin!).  Now... seven years later, he has changed.  His dark hair is now at least half gray... wrinkles and crows feet are etched permanently on his face instead of just when he smiles... something he hasn't done much of lately.

Running a large business takes up all of his free time.  He's working more than ever because of a recent acquisition of a smaller business.  His mother is dreadfully ill with something that has yet to be pinpointed.  His wayward oldest child has returned to the fold and brought chaos along.  His second daughter is contemplating annulling a month old marriage.

My dad.  Everybody's rock.  He counsels me (the wayward daughter) and consoles my younger sisters, supports his parents, and keeps the peace between his siblings.  All the while... through it ALL... he is wildly successful... beyond anything he dreamed of as a dyslexic, troubled schoolboy.  The one teachers said would never amount to anything.  They couldn't have ever been more wrong.

Our Papa Mike is the greatest.  Happy Father's Day to one fucking awesome dad.      

Otherwise known as "Searching For What Never Was and other pretentious games".

I get lightbulb moments all the time.  It's just that the damn thing never stays on... it'll flash for a minute or sometimes five if I'm feeling extra sharp but after that it all fades back to a shade of gray reserved for the especially lost. 

An exercise in contradiction.  Two sides completely different.  I am one but I am never the same.

It been harder lately.  The bubbly exterior gives way to a torture chamber of unresolved emotions... I live with it... mostly at night when I struggle to sleep... the thoughts, the emotions, and my reactions to them alternately fill me with guilt or leave me feeling smug which leads to guilt itself.  When I finally sleep I am wracked with nightmares of disapproval, abandonment, and failure.  Overcompensation becomes an issue because I work overtime to assure that none of my fears will come to life.

Disturbed.  Textbooks say cookie cutter.  They don't know the half.  Strength.  It lies within.  Brilliance.  It turns out the lightbulb always burns... a curse in itself... I can't see what always was and wait for never will be. 

... the Duane chronicles.

So anyway, I'm back in my hometown after a lengthy absence but I swear to something that it's like I never left.

I'm also back doing the same job that I was doing before I left and even after seven years I get recognized... by everybody... and their brother, dog, and third cousin, Mary.  People have crazy memories.  I must've made quite an impression.  Tee hee... there's my ego popping up with its two cents.  Or it could be that I look exactly the same as seven years ago.  Might have something to do with it.

I keep seeing all of these people and...

Duane.  Sigh.  I had the biggest crush on him back in the day.  Hell, I still do... old (bad) habits die hard.  Too bad he was always extremely off-limits.  Not married or anything... just not a smart choice.  I could get into the "whys" now but these are chronicles... so I need to leave some for later, right?  I will say though that this isn't some "guy who broke my heart" deal.  I never dated him... there's no way I could have gotten away with that... but again, that's for later.    

He first caught my eye around my senior year in high school.  Tall, lean but muscular, with the sharpest blue eyes I had ever seen.  He looked good.  The guy was smart too... there was no doubt about that and he oozed with sexuality born of confidence and success.  He walked like he owned the world... turns out I caught his eye too.... 

And the Duane Chronicles.

First though, updates.  It's fucking hard to find childcare for my babydolls in this area.  Family has been helping so far but my typical working hours are off just enough (10am to 6pm) that a lot of providers can't take them.  ("Sorry, I only work until five."  "Sorry, I never work Wednesdays." and the best one of all: "I have one opening.  Could you just split them up... you know, put one here and one in another place?")

Fucking morons.  I work hours that are totally plush in this minimum-wage worker infested hellhole.  They couldn't work an extra half hour to hour?  I said I'd pay extra!!  What happened to people's greed factor?  I sure could use it now.  And why, why?!!... would I separate my children when they have never been in daycare and would be scared to death even when together?

So I'm frustrated and I've wasted too much time on this when I should be making phone calls. The damn Duane chronicles will have to wait a couple hours now.  Fuck.

I work for my parents (which would explain the nepotism) in their relatively large business... I am employee number 73... sometimes my dad can be evil (that explains why I call it the evil empire).

I don't do anything with the meth-heads except work with them.  Most of them are really nice people who just got mixed up in some bad shit. 

I am very much joking about the nepotism and evil empire stuff.  I am low woman on the totem pole at this point and my dad is a really good person to work for as long as you do what is expected of you.  Seems fair to me.

It really is just a regular job.  I'm lucky to be able to work for my parents... I got to skip the interview process and the wage is good.  I'm very thankful for all of that.

Thanks for all your nice questions and comments too... I have access to a computer at my grandmother's house (where I live) but I have been a bit too busy to stay around and chat much... hoping to be around more on weekends soon though. 

I'm the head of an evil empire.  Nepotism abounds. 

My co-workers are mostly honest people trying to scrape by... I say mostly because a select few are raging meth-heads.

It's pretty much a regular job. 

Nothing.  I don't have anything to say.  I'm the busiest I've been in years and yet I have nothing to say.  Well, nothing I'd post publicly anyway. 

In other news... hmm... there isn't much else to report. 

So.  More non-thoughts later. 

Coming to you from my friendly public library because my home computer snorted too much laptop crack and overdosed.  I hope it was worth it because trying to get some privacy in public... well, it just doesn't happen. 

Big happenings in the land of figjam, folks.  I probably won't be around much anymore... I'm going back to work!!!!!!!!!!!  Among many other huge things.  Fuck yeah.  Back to the land of the living. 

Okay... the Wicked Witch of the West... er... the librarian is signaling that my time is up.  Until some other time, dudes.  I'm out of here.

I'm not one to vent usually but I'm going to.

I have a friend who is making me very upset.  Upset to the point that I would consider ending the friendship.  It's not a difference of opinion or anything like that really.  I won't go into detail simply because the story would be one-sided (my side) and that doesn't seem fair.  However... my desire to keep the details private do not negate my general feelings which are not good. 

The fact that it was so easy for me to allow ending the friendship to be a possible remedy to the situation speaks volumes.  I have made my feelings clear to friend.  Friend doesn't get it and doesn't shut up or change. 

Oh well.  We are incompatible as friends.  No sense in forcing it.  Life goes on.

I feel better now. 

Last one for a week, folks.  I done got sick of these things again... already.

This quiz is quite accurate.  I have three people... count 'em... three... who I will tell anything more than surface bullshit to. 

You Don't Have a Big Mouth

In fact, you like to keep your life very private. You figure that your personal life is no one's business. And if people try to pry, they'll end up unsuccessful. You're a big mystery to people - and that's fine by you!

Wasn't that a Whitesnake song? 

Love.  I like it.  I love it, I want some more of it.  Tim McGraw. 

Okay so I consider myself to be a fairly expressive person but when it comes to love I'm totally at a loss.  I could sit there and describe in great and hilarious detail my escapades at the grocery store but when it comes to something deeper I end up sounding even goofier than when I talk about the guy at the Olive Garden who sat directly in my line of vision... the one who chewed every bit of steak gorgonzola with his mouth wide open so I got a full view of the first step of digestion.  Or when I make fun of myself for writing a run-on sentence... kinda like I did just now.

Anyway.  When it comes to feelings of love or romance I find myself stupidly quoting songs to get my point across.  How lame is that?  Not like classics either.... it's always weird shit like "Kiss Me Deadly".  Remember Lita Ford?  I don't really but I've watched enough "I love the 80s" on VH1 to know that she's the gal who looks like she's humping her guitar in the video.  That song is not exactly one that would incite romantic feelings in a normal person but I suppose classifying myself as normal would be an impossible stretch.

Oh well... at least I'm cool enough to prefer Def Leppard (Pour some sugar on me, in the name of love!) over Boyz II Men.  If I start quoting those sappy bastards, please slap me.

Fuck, I KNEW I was cool but this proves it.  The number one song on the day I was born was this:

Abracadabra - Steve Miller Band

I did not think I could get any more awesome.

How about some mindless bullshit?  I apologize in advance for the fucked up numbering... I got it this way so I take no responsibility... just too lazy to change it.

1. If your doctor said you were pregnant, what would you say?
I probably wouldn't be able to speak.  I might cry though.  In a not so good way.

2. Do you trust all of your friends?
Nope.  I only have one friend I trust. 

3. Would you move to another state or country to be with the one you love?
Definitely

4. Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?
Survey is not exactly the place to get into that now is it?

5. Name two things you would NOT tolerate in a relationship.
Dishonesty and more dishonesty. 

6. Which one of your friends do you think would make the best doctor?
None of them and I think that's quite a compliment.

7. When was the last time you snuck out?
Just today...

8. Are you afraid of falling in love?
No but commitment gets me a little looped at times.

9. Is there someone who pops into your mind at random times?
Well, for a while they popped in but recently they took up residence.

11. When was the last time you flew in a plane?  April 2000

12. What did the last text message you sent say?
It told me to tell you it's none of your fucking business what my last text message said

13. What features do you find most attractive in the opposite sex?
Brain... gotta have some sexy gray matter to turn this girl on

15. What are your goals in life?
I want to be a good mother and raise loving, compassionate children.  I want to strive to be a better person everyday.

17. When you get married, how do vision your dream wedding?
In my dream wedding I marry somebody who I love beyond reason and want to share the rest of my life with.  Pretty normal I think.

Where is 18? Why do people do these surveys if they do not want to answer questions? Why delete them?

19. If you were to wake up from being in a coma for an extended period of time, name some people you would call?
It would depend on whether or not the coma left me with amnesia and without a voice... that's what always happens on Days of Our Lives.  Damn comas.

20. How many kids do you want to have?
I have a couple.  That's enough.

21. Would you make a good parent?
I'm a work in progress

22. Where was your default pic taken?
Don't have a real pic here.  The one on my MySpace was taken at my house

23. What is your middle name?
M for Moron
And 24-26..where are they?

27. Honestly, what's on your mind right now?
I'm sleepy

28. Are you musical?
Fuck no

29. If you could go back in time and change something, what would you change?
Everything and nothing.  I try not to look back.

31. What are you wearing right now?
An enormous Yellowstone t-shirt

32. Righty or Lefty?
Righty

33. Can you make a dollar in change right now?
In dimes. 

34. Best place to go for a date?
The beach!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  With a bonfire!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

35. Favorite jeans?
Old Navy Ultra Low Rise Boot Cut

37. Favorite animal?
Cats.  Yay!

38. Favorite month?
November!!

39. Favorite juice?
Gross

40. Have you had the chicken pox?
Yes.  I was six.

41. Have you had a sore throat?
Have you ever had a runny nose?

42. Have you had plastic surgery?
No... haven't had the need yet but I would consider it in 20 years if I was sagging just wrong

43. Who knows you the best?
My mom

45. Do you get along with your family?
Abso-tootin-lutely

44. Do you wear contact lenses or glasses?
Both but mostly glasses

46. Ever been in a fight with your pet?
Oh yes. Mostly they're power struggles, but there's the occasional brawl.

47. Been to Mexico?
Sometimes when I go to the grocery store it seem like I live there but I don't and I've never been there.

49. Did you buy something today?
Some deodorant and groceries

50. Did you get sick today?
No but I could use my mind powers to make it happen or just get tanked

52. Do you miss someone today?
Like crazy.  Sucks to live apart from loved ones.

53. Did you get in a fight with someone today?
No... yesterday was another story though

55. Last person to lay in your bed?
Me

56. Last person to see you cry?
Somebody I wished hadn't

57. Who made you cry?
The usual suspect

58. What was the last TV show you watched?
Spongebob

60. What are your plans for the weekend?
I plan to plan.

Catchy title.  Too bad that it took all my brain power to think up the title and now I have none left for the content.  So sad.

I've been doing some experimenting lately.  I go through periods where this is necessary in order to grow.  Or maybe I just tell myself that the end result will be growth when in actuality I am only repeating actions that led to previous mistakes that led to previous hurt and heartbreak. 

Growth?  I think not.  Denial?  You better believe it.

Maybe I'm just crazy.  Even so I struggle to swallow the pills.

That's pretty much it.  I'm really at a loss to find the eloquent, descriptive words that would best fit my current state of mind.

I write not for sympathy but for clarity.  This is hardly a play for pity - an emotion I despise whether it's given or received.  I know myself and I know my thoughts and their patterns.  I'm not really in need of help or advice... just trying to organize the jumble. 

Tonight my thoughts leave me unsettled.  Too many occurrences that defy logic... cannot be explained.  Good or bad, the unknown frightens me... and more often than not, good things that cannot be explained turn out to be bad.  That is not pessimism... it's reality... and I rest easy knowing my feet are planted firmly on the ground.  That does not keep me from wishing that the fleeting in my life would turn into concrete but I know... deep, deep in my soul... that it could never be. 

Far too close to fantasy to ever become reality.

Shit in one hand, wish in the other.  So much for eloquence but sometimes that just doesn't get the point across.

You be the judge.

I've been calling numerous places in my quest to find an affordable/suitable/not nasty place to rent for myself and my children.  So far not tons of luck.  I called on a 2 bedroom, 1.5 bath and the first question the man who answered asked was: "How many people will be living in the house?".  I answered truthfully... me and my two toddlers.  "It's too small for you!" he blurted and unceremoniously hung up on me.  Um, ok.

Women are almost always easier to deal with (I've found anyway) and I think I've stumbled upon a place that might just turn out to be my future home... the landlord is a wonderfully pleasant woman who seems understanding of the situation at hand.  My cousin would live just upstairs (small world, huh?) and I'd be within walking distance of many things I love.

Not really the point though.  Today I finally got a call back on another place that I had contacted before finding the current rental I'm interested in.  I answered with a generic "hello" and a friendly, younger-sounding man said, "Hi, sweetheart... how are you?"  

"Fine, thanks.  How are you?"

"I'm just great, honey.  Is your mom around?  I need to talk to her for a quick minute."

Whaa-at?  My mom?  For a second I was totally thrown for a loop.

Me!  He meant me!  He thought I was a child!  At that very moment I burst out laughing.

"Um, I think in this case I am the mom."

Two beat pause.  Laughter.  "Oh my God.  You've got to be kidding me!  I'm so sorry!  But you could take it as a compliment - you sound very young."

Hmm.  Keep telling yourself that, dude.  We'll see.

Talked to him a bit more and discovered that his house was not in an area that would be convenient for me.

So.... ego boost or insult?  Either way I got a good laugh.  I needed it. 

One thing leading up to another and yet another.  Seeing so much that I've closed my eyes to... I look in the mirror to find that I've dwindled... not a surprise.  I had made a conscious decision to starve myself again.  Logic screams at me to stop... to eat... to do SOMETHING.  My bones ache with each movement or even lack of movement... protesting the lack of nutrients they recieve from already depleted fat stores.  I hurt... but somehow... in that twisted way only a truly sick person could... I savor  the empty feeling I have each morning... horrifyingly enough, the feeling of hunger...

I never did it for attention.  No matter what anybody else thinks... no matter how this may make them squirm... I did it - I do it - for control.  Power.

And now I see my face... drawn and pale... even underneath the bronzer and blush... I look into my own eyes and see the wrenching pain.  My heart is sick and I don't know how to fix it.  My brain works overtime to find the right answers but there are none.  Mind over matter?  Maybe when it comes to food but the rest remains to be seen.

I haven't felt this in such a long time.  I've been numb but events have forced me to feel.  More than anything I want the strength to deal as though I wasn't broken beyond repair in the first place.

My girls just got off the phone with their grandma (my mom).  It was a quick call designed to distract them for a bit... I love watching their faces when they talk to her.  They love her so much.  I love her so much.  Mom is just one of those constants... something you can count on when everything else falls apart.  Very steadfast, always level-headed, and forever loving.

She's incredible.

cyn·i·cal       (sĭn'ĭ-kəl)  Pronunciation Key  adj.   Believing or showing the belief that people are motivated chiefly by base or selfish concerns; skeptical of the motives of others: a cynical dismissal of the politician's promise to reform the campaign finance system. Selfishly or callously calculating: showed a cynical disregard for the safety of his troops in his efforts to advance his reputation. Negative or pessimistic, as from world-weariness: a cynical view of the average voter's intelligence. Expressing jaded or scornful skepticism or negativity: cynical laughter. cyn'i·cal·ly adv., cyn'i·cal·ness n.

Cynicism is not inevitable.  It's a choice. You can take what you hear, what you see, with a grain of salt but playing the cynic takes it a step beyond general caution into the realm of paranoia.

I'm no Pollyanna but come on.  That little cartoon cloud that's over your head raining on your nice haircut is only there because you didn't erase the motherfucker. 

That's just my take.  Nice to have a different perspective, huh?

Somewhere between August 23 and September 22 I will reach the quarter century mark of my life.  Two children, one rocky marriage, and countless periods of both joy and grief have marked my relatively short life.  Not a bit of it would I ever take back or even modify if I could.  Life has progressed as it should.

I am pleased with who I have become and the fact that I continually evolve toward a better me.  Each day is a new one that I take for what it is: a precious gift, more time with my children, and a chance to learn and grow.  The more I learn, the less I know... leaving behind the cocky teenager and embracing the sage adult I am surely becoming.

The body aches are more acute with the passing years but my heart remains resilient and hopeful despite breaks and fissures... I am cautious but not cynical.  

I am lucky. 

I'm back.  For those of you who seemed to be curious, it was a simple family reunion-type function that I attended.

Everything went well.  If you don't count me getting so completely wasted that the Bud Light and Busch on tap would not suffice.  I ventured into the parking lot and  bummed a couple cigarettes off a friend.  While I was standing around gabbing I noticed some big fat guy mixing drinks out of his pickup.  A couple Crown & Cokes later I was feeling good.  Finished those off, watched Chad and company fuck around with the DJ's car, and walked back into the reception hall.  I located my sisters sitting around at a table and took a seat.... for about 30 seconds and then I fell over.  A young man who had been following me around the majority of the night (I should take a quick minute to explain that this function also included friends and various other people I am NOT related to) played Mr. Gallant and lifted me back into my chair... as a reward for acting like an idiot he also handed me an unopened stray bottle of Henry's Pale.  Yum. 

Dad stayed remarkably sober which was humorous itself but Mom didn't manage the same restraint.  It's always fun to be one of the young ones and watch the parents get tanked and let loose.  Good times. 

So much more to report but I must go... Day two of the hangover is making concentrating rather difficult. 

I'm like a ninja!  This is a quick post from my parents' house.  Tomorrow is the day.  Saturday that is.  And something else important.  I'm excited but I must be brief.  So I will go now.

Good weekend wishes for you all!

Better known as the top drawer of my dresser.  This drawer is filled with seemingly hundreds of different socks, panties, bras, camisoles, nylons... anything of the general undergarment nature except the kind of lingerie that is only meant to be worn for a few minutes at a time and not underneath clothes.  Those unmentionables have their own drawer but I digress.

I rarely venture beyond the first layer of my top drawer.  My usual, favorite stuff is right on top... grab and go... but today was another story.  I needed my special little convertible bra... the kind that comes with two types of removable straps: one regular set and the other clear... you can even wear it strapless!  I have to wear a halter dress on Saturday and I wanted to make sure I had the bra with the dress now so I wouldn't have to search later.  I could just skip the bra altogether (one of the upsides of having small boobs) but my mom would freak out so I'll bite the bullet... in the name of peace only.  I'm a good daughter.  What can I say?

I found the bra easily enough... I had worn it in it's strapless form recently so it remained in the top layer.  The little black drawstring pouch that holds the straps was not as easy to locate though.   I contemplated calling off the search for the elusive straps but in extreme cases the bra has a nasty habit of slipping down and this is not an occasion where a malfunction like that would be laughed off.  More like the end of somebody's life.  Not mine.  Probably my overdramatic sister.

So how much longer can I drag this story out? 

As I combed through the layers of underwear I realized that they almost represented stages in my life... and that I had come full circle.  At least in the underwear department.  The bottom layer appeared to consist of panties and bras from BM (before marriage).  Little bits of lace and silk make up the majority of this layer.  The next layer appears to be from JM (just married).  Sporty string bikinis with rainbow-colored waistbands and equally sunny bras.  Next is the BFU (big fucking underwear) stage.  This layer encompasses my undergarments of choice during and just after pregnancy... other wise known as the dark ages.  Finally we come to the top layer.  Interestingly enough, much of the bottom layer has again reached the top... with a few new little treats thrown in.

By the way, I finally found the pouch with the straps in my closet.  But at least I got to write an entire post on the abyss.