Color Me Bad: Teacher uses Sharpie Marker to fill in a part line on student's hair

I don't know how I missed this story but ran across it tonight and was in a jaw-dropped state for several moments.

In October, at Marshall Junior High School in Marshall, Texas, a student showed up at school one day with "hair designs" shaved into his head which apparently violated the school's dress code.

His "designs" were two extra "part" lines on either side of his head near his temples (probably no more than one inch long if that) and according to the school's dress code, students are only allowed ONE part line.

Just one. Not one and a half.

One part line.

Okay, SERIOUSLY?? Who dreams this shit up?

Did a half a dozen educators just wake up one day and hold an emergency meeting to decide that students are only allowed ONE part line on their heads? Who is writing these ridiculous policies? Wow. Talk about focusing on the really important issues at hand -- part lines vs. being able to multiply three and four number equations or naming all the capitals of the 50 states in this country.

SERIOUSLY??????????

The story gets better. The student's teacher decided to take matters into her hands - literally - and called the student out into the hall, and FILLED IN THE EXTRA PART LINES WITH A BLACK SHARPIE MARKER.

Um, yah, If a teacher EVER tried to draw on my kid's hair with a Sharpie because God forbid his hair "whorl" which is pronounced in appearance on his forehead was "whorling" the wrong way according to school policy for "whorling" hair,  I'd sue that teacher, the school and the school district for a billion dollars.

The school principal admitted that teachers have handled this same situation in the past in the very same manner but told the media outlets it would never happen again - with Sharpies, of course.

What's next? Acrylic paints? Watercolors? Charcoal?

I think that Marshall Junior High School needs to take a closer look at its dark ages dress code and perhaps focus more on ensuring its students are being schooled in reading, writing and arithmetic and leave the Sharpies in the art classes for teachers to use in a more creative manner than filling in part lines on students' hair.

Kevin Hogan v. FOX News - Invasion of Privacy at its Absolute Worst!

I am ashamed to be a reporter right at this moment because it groups me into the circle of journalists in which seasoned journalist Mike Beaudet is a part and I want to step outside of this group to disassociate myself because Mr. Beaudet may have just ruined an extraordinary teacher's life.

Recently, Beaudet, an undercover reporter for Fox News, received a tip that a very well liked, very well respected teacher at the Mystic Valley Regional Charter School in Malden, Massachusets, starred in XXX gay porn movies prior to becoming a teacher.

Kevin Hogan, an English teacher at Mystic Valley, was "exposed" by Beaudet when the viewer tipped off Fox that Hogan's former employment could be seen online.

OMG. Seriously? This is NEWS?

Heavens to Mergatroit. Kevin Hogan had a prior job? Wow. Stop the presses!!!!

WHOTF cares? Porn is a billion dollar business, it's perfectly legal and Hogan probably made some decent money as he appears to be a pretty good looking guy! So what?

All the high falutin' bible thumping morals and values RACISTS FREAKS and anti-gay crazies are getting their collective panties in a bunch (with their collective heads STILL stuck in the sand) and airing their collective opinions about how Hogan should be fired, OMG he was teaching KIDS and all that blah blah blah from people who are absolutely choking on all that sand they've inhaled since this "story" broke.

Let's look at the big picture here: The naysayers think Hogan will "influence" their kids and probably try to recruit them into porn or heaven forbid try to 'turn them gay.' Oh really? Then how come PRIOR to this story their wasn't one iota of a complaint against Hogan?

Everyone wants to jump on the slam Hogan bandwagon because he had a prior job that involved - ahem, nudity, sex and filming of same. Oh wait, allegedly the filming involved Hogan starring with same sex actors.

Gee, I get Netflix movies that have those same contents. And correct me if I am wrong but there are plenty of movies available on Netflix that have gay actors or gay themes or nudity and sex. No one seems to be in an uproar about that!

And just because Hogan starred in XXX gay porn doesn't make him an alien from outer space! And it certainly doesn't make him any less of a teacher! The support Hogan is receiving from his students and parents and the general community is overwhelmingly positive.

If my son had Kevin Hogan for a teacher and was bringing home straight As and all I heard from my son is how much he LOVED Mr. Hogan's English class and how much he LOVED how Mr. Hogan made English interesting, and then I found out Mr. Hogan starred in XXX gay porn movies? I'd be like yah, whatevah. I'm more concerned about my kid continuing to bring home straight A's.

Racists freaks and anti-gay crazies and religious zealots and bible thumpers and all you people who live with your ostrich heads in the sand: Kevin Hogan did NOTHING wrong. He did NOT commit a  crime, he is NOT a pedophile, a rapist, nor is he a bank robber, a serial killer or an animal abuser.

He is a man who's life Mike Beaudet has probably ruined all because Fox decided that exposing a teacher's past employment was newsworthy.

In my famous words that are well known by many: Fox News and Mike Beaudet: YOU SUCK!

Michelle Duggar - seriously stupid or seriously addicted CLOSE YOUR LEGS

Seriously? Michelle Duggar is pregnant AGAIN????

This will be her 20th kid.

I am not religious but someone mentioned in the bible there is an excerpt that says "be fruitful and multiply."

I think that was for those flying gnat things that mysteriously appear on bananas after a few days and procreate into the hundreds within hours.

Gross.

Clearly the Duggars DO believe everything they read.

Michelle Duggar is 45 years old, only five years younger than me. I was 38 when I had my ONLY child and that pregnancy was a nightmare come true. I was not built to be pregnant and I was actually thankful 27 different ways to Texas for the emergency c-section because the thought of pushing something the size of a watermelon through something the size of a keyhole was just incomprehensible to me. Stretches out my ass.

I read a comment by someone who said Michelle Duggar's uterus is just going to drop out of her in the grocery line one of these days.

I'm going to have nightmares now.

Let's be serious: She is 45 years old. Medically and statistically speaking, she has put herself (again) in a high risk situation -- both for herself and for her unborn child. And I think the latter is just over the top selfish and completely reckless disregard for human life. And she and her husband are supposed to be "religious?"

And correct me if I am wrong but one of her kids already has kids of his/her own? And how many are they going to have? Is this one of those "and she had a baby, and that baby grew up and had a baby, and THAT baby had a baby, and then they ALL had babies, and THOSE babies grew up and had babies?"

Yuck. I'm dizzy just reading what I wrote!

Michelle, the world is overpopulated as it is and you just keep running up the numbers because clearly you don't know what "just say no" means and and it's against your religious beliefs that (gack) your husband wear an umbrella to, um "reign in the white rain."

Gack. I think I just threw up in my mouth.

It's hard enough for me being a single parent and raising one child. Lucky you Michelle that because of your obsessive compulsive disorder called IBPFMOML (I've Been Pregnant For Most Of My Life) (and that's just wrong on every level of human existence) and because you have populated the world with even more children, TLC pays you and your husband ridiculous sums of money to follow you around to see how you raise 19 kids (and people actually watch this).

Me and Michelle Duggar share a common bond: We are both moms. But that's where the similarities end.

And I am absolutely undeniably confident that my uterus will NEVER fall out of me while I am standing in the grocery line.

You are NOT the Great and Powerful Orr, er Oz

Seriously? Did Bobby Orr's daughter in law really tell the cop who arrested her for drunk driving that she is very powerful? SERIOUSLY??????

Hey Chelsea chickie baby - STFU. The only person who is powerful is the "great and powerful Oz." or did you miss that line in that classic movie because you were in a drunken foggy haze?

I am getting sick and tired of people who try to make the "I'm somebody" association. Chelsea here apparently threatened to have the cop who arrested her - gasp - FIRED -- and then proceeded to spew her powerful line blah blah blah blah blah.

Let's see who else got popped for DUI/OUI and tried the "I'm somebody" line.

Ron Bell - Gov. Deval Patrick's longtime aide. He tried the "I work for the governor does that help" line. talk about having no spine whatsoever. If that wasn't a cowtow to the cops line I don't know what was. Does that help? DOES THAT HELP? Oh sure, bye bye Bell. Be on your way. Don't kill anyone before you get home.

Loser.

And then of course there is Oingo Boingo - President Barack Obama's uncle. I can't remember his name. Oneynga Obama or something like that. Lives in Framingham. Illegally. Works at Conti Liquors last I heard. In Framingham. Popped by Framingham PD for OUI. Tells the cop "I need to call the White House" or something like that. Obama/White House. Didn't the cop make the connection?

Listen people - you are your celebrity relatives do not help. You are a drunk driver. You could have killed someone and/or yourself. Stop trying to escape your stupidness and recklessness and dumbass-ness by trying to get out of your drunk driving arrest with some lame "I'm somebody" to somebody reference.

Chelsea, if you were my somebody, and you tried that shit and it ended up all over the news I'd throw a bucket of water on you and hope you melted right into the floor like a certain character from The Wizard of Oz.

Then you would know who is REALLY 'great and powerful.'

Facebook: Attic Crawlspace for the Twisted and Perverse

Here we post again.

Another dumbass posting sexually explicit texts on his Facebook page. I hear the "yah so?" from many of the readers. Well, this time (no surprise?) it's a former principal of a Colorado school - 40-year-old Anthony Alvarez, who was arrested when his wife discovered HIS sexually explicit texts posted on his Facebook page but addressed to a 15-year old student.

Clearly, the word STUPID should be tattooed right on his perverted forehead.

Dumb is as dumb gets. He has a Facebook page, posts these pornographic xrated messages to this teenager and his wife discovers them. Clearly, he forgot his wife was his wife and not one of his "friends" on his page.

Duh.

People seem to forget that unless you use the privacy controls, the entire world can see your Facebook page. I guard my page with extreme jealously because I don't want creeps like Alvarez friend requesting me. I get friend requests from third-world country residents and losers who are just cruising Facebook looking for women who just recently fell off the turnip truck.

I am not a turnip truck victim.

So not only did Alvarez fall off the turnip truck, the truck backed up and ran him over a few times because his brain must have been complete mush when he was posting away his xrated comments to this teen on his Facebook page.

Don't you just want to walk up to these kinds of people and smack the stupid right out of them and ask them "what the eff are you thinking?"

So the story goes on and describes some of the rather sordid details of the alleged relationship between Stupido Alvarez and the teenager and even describes the acts she performed upon him.

Serriously? Yuck.

I had a crush on my English teacher in high school. He was single and handsome and smart. But the thought of doing ANYTHING other than gazing at him from afar (or inside the classroom) was just disgusting. I guess we are all wired differently. My English teacher did set off some fireworks somewhere in my innards, but I never acted upon my feelings (again, ewww) and certainly, while he was quite single, he was, in fact, my English teacher - and everyone else's and that was his most important job. Period. And there was no Facebook back then so any comments about him were reduced to giggles and sighs in the hallways amongst us fawning teenage girls.

Whoopdee freakn' doo.

But let me jump on the fence for some educational analysis about this Alvarez creep.

Forty year old men who sleaze around with 15 year old girls fall into several categories: Perverted, perverted and creepy or pre-midlife crisis manwhore pedophile. Actually, now that I look at this these categories contain all the same content :)

Why didn't he get a tattoo or his nipples pierced? What is it about turning 40 or 50 that makes men seek out young chickies? Do they think their dick is going to fall off anytime soon if they don't have sex with someone "young?" I know men cheat. Women cheat, too, for the same damned reasons. We all want to make sure we are still wanted and desired by either opposite or same sex, depending on who flips your boat.

I am 49. I date a guy who is a few years old than me. I've also dated a guy who is nearly 14 years older than me. When I was 12 and he was 26, BIG difference. But now 49 and 63 isn't that big of a deal.

40 year old former school principal and 15 year old student?

Way big of a deal.

So here is Alvarez carrying on like the creep that he is with a 15 year old student. He claims she came on to him. There may be some truth to that - I'm still sitting on the fence here give me a chance - because we do not know anything about the 15-year old girl's life. She may not have a father. She may have been seeking some sort of authority figure to guide her because she lacks that in her home. Maybe it was a combination of both. Maybe he suspended her or threatened to expel her or gave her too many detentions and she connived and contrived a way to seek vengence. Of COURSE everyone is going to believe her - Alvarez is the creepy sick f--k who made a poor helpless 15 year old girl do very bad things.

Maybe. Maybe not.

He's probably just another pedophile.

But to post sexually explicit comments on your Facebook page where your wife has access to your page and you are a 40 year old former high school principal and you're engaged in an illicit alleged affair with a 15 year old student - um, that's just really stupid.

Facebook has become that dark, dusty, smelly attic crawlspace for these types of creeps. They hide behind fake profiles and troll Facebook looking for those hapless misguided teens whose pages are public and whose posts lure the filthiest vile kind of creeps out of that crawlspace with statuses like "I hate my life, I hate my parents, I hate my father, I hate my teachers" and blah blah blah, Those posts are a MAGNET for creeps like Alvarez.

So what we don't know is if the 15 year old is an innocent as she says she is, or if there is more to this story than what we know up to now. I am not defending Alvarez - he should have gotten a tat or some piercings or hired a hooker. But no, he had to go down perv avenue and find himself a 15 year old.

Or did he?

Either way, he's done. I feel genuine sympathy for the wife. Actually, if I was the wife, I'd just cut off his johnson and put it in the garbage disposal and oops - flipped the on switch.

No more blow jobs. No more 15 year old girls.

Easy peasy.

I'd hate to be a teenager in this day and time. I'm careful what I say on Facebook. I don't name names outright about people I wish would get hit by a bus or eaten by a great white shark. And believe me, there are about a half dozen I COULD name right now. And even in my most recent blogs aptly named Liar Liar Pants On Fire, I DID name the person who did me wrong but it was justified.

But if you are a 40 year old guy slutting around with a 15 year old student, and you're posting crazy porno shit about your illicit affair with same, it's a foregone conclusion you're going to get caught and you're going to go to jail. And if you have a wife and she's on your Facebook page, well, then you deserve everything that's coming to you.

I think that wife should have turned on the garbage disposal when she had the chance.

Secure Communities - A Must To Protect and Preserve American Citizens

Rest in peace, Matthew Denice.

This young man, only 23 years old, was killed over the weekend of Aug. 20th when an illegal immigrant named Nicholas Guamann blew a stop sign while driving drunk, slammed into Matthew on his motorcycle (he was 2 minutes from his home), then continued to drive, dragging Matthew screaming in agony because he was caught under the truck while people chased the truck banging on the window for the piece of shit Guamann to stop. He did stop, then backed up and ran over Matthew who had been dislodged from beneath the truck and MURDERED that poor young guy.

And then this scumbag Guamann took off running.

Illegal immigrant. Living illegally in Milford Massachusetts and in MY country. Criminal record. Already convicted of drunk driving.

Murderer.

And Governor Deval Patrick is against Secure Communities. If Massachusetts had Secure Communities in place, Matthew Denice would still be alive.

Matthew's death is on you, Gov. Patrick.

Illegal immigrants contribute NOTHING to this state. They are bloodsuckers living off the state services that are handed out to them like candy! What is WRONG with you Gov. Patrick? A young man is DEAD - horribly murdered - because YOU don't want law enforcement to take a stand against illegal immigrants.

Why? Maybe you should go to Matthew Denice's home and explain to his mother and father why you don't want Secure Communities in Massachusetts.

This state is pathetically catering to illegals who sneak into MY country and expect handouts at every corner. When are task forces and watchdog groups and enforcement agencies going to be created to scrutinize welfare applications, food stamp applications, housing applications, employment applications so that illegals are NOT allowed services that we as America citizens should get FIRST before illegals? When are social security numbers going to be run through the SS Administration databases and checked and re-checked and checked again for validity and authenticity?

Until those enforcement groups are in place, we as American citizens are losing out on the services that we are rightly entitled to and end up at the back of the bus while illegals with 22 kids from 22 different fathers are riding in the front, making more money in welfare and food stamps combined than I do at my legitimate job. And my son has to suffer because illegals are clogging up the ER at hospitals with god only know what diseases they are bringing into MY country and my son has to WAIT to get seen because an illegal gets treated first?

I get the human being part of it. I'm not that cold hearted. But stay in your own country. I don't have a problem with people coming to MY country so long as it's done legally.

But none of this is going to bring back Matthew Denice. How many more people are going to die at the hands of illegal immigrants who can't speak English, who can't read road signs, who think they are "entitled" to get all the services Massachusetts has to offer because they know that Gov. Patrick won't do a damn thing to boot them out of MY country?

When is this going to stop?

Liar Liar Pants on Fire Part 5 - The Conclusion

Dear Melissa Gough:

And the truth shall set ME free. You Miss Liar Liar Pants On Fire - are in a whole heap o' trouble.

Oh the truth set me free all right. My insurance company has reversed the ruling of fault against me, found me NOT at fault for the car accident of June 9, 2011, reversed the surcharge it issued against me and is now going after you and your insurance company to recoup the bazillion dollars it paid out for repairs to my truck because of your lies.

I told you to tell the truth, Melissa. I asked you nicely and I asked like the adult that I am. But you thought you could pull the "I'm rich and above the law" trick with me. Problem is - you had no idea who you were dealing with.

See, I have BWABS. You know what that stands for?

BULLDOG WITH A BONE SYNDROME.

It's not letting go of something worth holding on to - tightly.

And in this situation, it is - and has been - the truth.

Your lies have backfired mightily on you. Your statement to my insurance company (which you can't change) and to your insurance company (which you can't change) have now been proven as a complete and blatant lie. And your diagram you submitted with your false statement? Wow. It must have taken all the brainpower you could muster to lie in that little square that you submitted as proof of the "classic fender bender."

Suffice to say you smug you know what - you're done like burnt steak.

As soon as I got my hands on your statement and the drawing, I immediately saw how I was going to prove your lies. You made it way too easy for me. You give stupid is as stupid DRIVES (and passes illegally on the left) an entirely new meaning.

So Melissa, hows that "classic fender bender" working out for you now?

Nice example you set for your children.

I have more important issues to write about in my blogs. I'm done wasting words and space on you.

Adios Mel-iar.

Liar Liar Pants on Fire Part 4

Dear Melissa Gough:

Sucks to be you. Sucks that you have been branded as a liar on the internet.

(Psssssst. We both know what really happened. We both know you lied. But you're still holding on to your lies like a kid with a hundred dollar bill clenched in her fist. Better hold it nice and tight because when I'm done presenting my case, it may cost you more than that hundred dollars to get your lying ass out of the trouble your lies are going to bring you).

Got your diagram that you submitted to Commerce and Amica. Got your statement you submitted to Commerce and Amica.

Not only are you a liar but you have committed insurance fraud.

See, what you don't know is how all these years as a reporter honed my attention to detail to a razor sharp edge. My job is and always has been to investigate, to report facts, and to get the truth. And sandwiched inbetween the 30 plus years I've been reporter were four years of law enforcement. Attention to detail, complete recall, a really good memory - amazingly important and required qualities in an individual who pursues journalism and/or a career in law enforcement.

I find things that other people don't find. I see things that other people don't see. My son calls me The Finder. Your statement and diagram made it way too easy for me to find your screwups.

When I studied your diagram of the accident of June 9th, and I read your statement of "your view" of the accident of June 9th, the accident you called a "classic fender bender" (how adroit), I immediately saw two glaring screwups -- your screwups.

But guess what? I'm not telling you what they are. You were stupid then just as you are now. Stupid and dumb and clearly clueless. I've already written to Commerce, and will continue to do so until they reverse the surcharge against me and find you at fault. And then I'm going to write to Amica and tell them how you - their insured - lied to cover up what you did, lied to Amica, lied to Commerce. Commerce will come after you. I hope the law does to.

Yes, it sucks to be you, Melissa Gough.

I wonder what kind of jail time people get for insurance fraud?

You know what lies are good for? Nailing people to the wall with them. And they're your lies, Melissa Gough. Thank you for giving me your "tools' with which to ensure that you never do this to some unwitting driver again.

Nice statement. Nice drawing. Obviously art isn't your strong point. Neither is your memory.

Can't change your statement. Can't change your diagram. Oh, too bad. Better remember your lies.

You are so screwed. Typical rich holier than thou think you're above the law lie to save your own ass and maliciously and willfully and knowingly hurt someone else pathetic excuse for a human being.

You are so digusting I gag when I think about you.

Did you get your driver's license out of a Cracker Jack box?

How pitiful you are, Melissa Gough.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Liar Liar Pants on Fire Part 3

In connection with the two previous Liar Liar Pants on Fire, I need the witnesses who saw the accident.

On the morning of June 9th, at approximately 10:57 a.m., the drivers who were driving on Edgell Road, coming from Nobscot in Framingham, Massachusetts, and who were BEHIND the black BMW - license plate number 669 GD7 with two female occupants, and who saw this black BMW illegally pass on the left a black SUV sitting in the first position of that single-car, left turn lane that bisects Edgell Road and Central Street.

the black BMW was behind me on Edgell Road, as when I turned into the single car, left turn lane that bisects Edgell Road and Central Street, the BMW traveling behind me came up to the left turn lane, illegally passed me on my left cutting me off and blocking me and impeding me from making my left turn.

All the drivers who were turning into the turn lane after the accident -- you could see that my SUV was still in the turn lane in the first position. the black BMW was halfway into Central Street. All all drivers had to go around us to the RIGHT until the Framingham cop came to the scene.

If you witnessed this crash, and you witnessed the black BMW traveling in front of YOU on Edgell Road that morning, and traveling BEHIND the black SUV that turned first into the left turn lane bisecting Edgell Road and Central Street, and you witnessed the black BMW illegally pass the black SUV on the left, please contact me.

Thank you!

Liar Liar Pants on Fire - Part 2

In the first blog of Liar Liar Pants On Fire, I told the story of an accident in which I was involved on June 9, 2011 with Melissa Gough of Sudbury, Massachusetts. And I took you through the exact details of the accident and wrote how Gough lied about the events of the accident but now, as an added note, has committed insurance fraud because of her lies.

I just received a copy of her "statement" to MY insurance company. Interestingly enough, it is dated June 13, 2011; four days AFTER the accident and I do not know when MY insurance company received it back to them. My best guess is on or about June 15th-17th because on June 21, 2011, my own insurance company ruled against me and found me at fault.

What is genuinely distressing is that ONE HOUR AND 15 MINUTES after the accident, I faxed over MY statement to my insurance company, which the claims rep admits she had in her possession the same day and of course, it wasn't read, wasn't considered.

Before any evidence, any photos, any videos I submitted to Commerce for review and consideration, the claims rep ruled against me based on Gough's bullshit lying statement and the claims rep is STILL stating that the "damage to the vehicles is consistent with Melissa Gough's statement."

Uh huh. And I'm the Queen of England.

In a world where evidence can make or break a case, it is disheartening to know that here in Massachusetts, if you are driving and suffer a heart attack and rear end someone, you could be laying in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of every orifice of your body and guess what? You will STILL get surcharged for rear ending the car in front of you.

Rear end someone because of a seizure? Surcharge.

Rear end someone because of vomiting from chemotherapy treatment? Surcharge.

Rear end someone because you're pregnant and hemorrhaging? Surcharge.

Rear end someone because a tree branch falls on your car and through your windshield? Surcharge.

Rear end someone on the EXACT corner of their right passenger bumper with the EXACT corner of your left front driver's side fender because Melissa Gough illegally passed you on the left, cut you off and blocked you from making your left turn and you hit her car because she 's rich and you're not (and she has a BMW) and all the evidence is in your favor that you didn't cause the accident but Melissa Gough's lies are believed over all your evidence and photos and videos? HA!  SURCHARGE SURCHARGE DING DING DING DING.

You readers are so smart.

Shall I continue?

You're screwed if you have Commerce. And you're screwed if you are a long time customer of Commerce, have a clean driving record, no surcharges - EVER - and you get involved in an accident with one Melissa Gough.

Melissa, you give pathological liar an entirely new meaning. And for what? To save your ass at the expense of deliberately and maliciously hurting me and my son? Congratulations - you have succeeded in perpetrating your lies upon both Commerce AND Amica and you have committed insurance fraud by doing same.

But as I stated in my first blog, someone ALWAYS knows the truth. And sooner or late, the trapdoor that liars fall into and drown in truth will open up beneath your feet and down you will go.

So with that said, I will spend the next two years fighting this.

Melissa Gough, you are are pathetic, disgusting, appalling and a liar. And now you can add insurance fraud to your resume.

How do you sleep at night? You AND your MIL? How many days did it take you to corroborate your stories to make sure you both told the same lie? Do you even remember what I was wearing that day? I remember what you were wearing. I remember what your MIL was wearing. I remember the three cars that passed in front of me given that I was FIRST in that turn lane.

See, that's where you screwed up. You stated it was two cars. Wrong. Sucks to be a liar, doesn't it?

I know it was three. And I remember all 3 cars. I remember the colors and I remember the make and model of the first one BUT even more so, I remember the second one as clear as day. But you can't change your statement now can you? You lied right in black and white. 

Oh, and your diagram is wrong, too. Clearly your artistic talent isn't one of your skills.

Oh wait, that's because your lying skills take precedent over all your other skills.

We both know the truth. We both know you came up behind me off of Edgell Road, illegally passed me on the left and drove up and over the grassy berm between the REAL PAVEMENT OF THE TURN LANE to get your BMW in front of me. You saw my vehicle in FRONT of you because I was in that turn lane first. YOU caused the accident. The only time you saw my vehicle in back of you was after you illegally passed me cut me off and caused the accident.

And your statement to the cop "well, I did go around her to the left but since I was already in front of her and she hit me it's her fault."

And that exact statement is in a fax to my insurance company dated June 9, 2011 at 12:25 p.m. - one hour and 10 minutes after the crash. And then I see you changed your story to both Commerce AND Amica.

What is that called? Insurance fraud x2?

let's see what the bible says about liars:

"A false witness shall not go unpunished, and he who speaketh lies shall not escape."

I know the truth. That entity being that everyone calls God knows the truth.

And so you do, Melissa Gough. You are so appallingly pathetic.

Oh, and I usually reserve the below words for a particular person with whom I've had a long time relationship but I'm extending these two words just for today to you Melissa Gough:

You suck. 

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Remember that catchy phrase from when we were children? I think most of us at one time or another have been the subject of that chant. Well, today, as an adult, I direct it toward a 43-year-old woman named Melissa Gough of Sudbury, Massachusetts. Seems immature and childish that as an adult, I have to resort to that eons old catchphrase but in my objectivity, it is rightly fitting.

If the "liar liar pants on fire" phrase were a piece of clothing, Mrs. Gough would wear it very well.

I detest liars. Let's start with a some words synonomous with liar: Deceiver, falsifier, deluder, fibber, maligner, misleader, perjurer, storyteller and trickster.

You get the picture. The glaring fact about liars is that they tend to actually believe the lies they tell and attempt to twist the lies so intricately that they then convince themselves their lies ARE the truth.

Pathetic losers with no backbone, no spine, no self-confidence, no conscience, no soul.

But here's the trapdoor for liars: Someone else always knows the truth. And that someone else is just lying in wait (no pun intended) to pull the rope on the trapdoor and let the liar fall straight down into the sea of truth - and drown.

Liars lie for one reason and one reason only: to cover their collective butts. Usually it's to get out of trouble or worse, to subject a person about whom they are lying to horrible stress, emotional anguish and destroy their lives. It happens.

Unless of course the person lying has been diagnosed as a pathological liar then that changes the scope of the reasoning behind the lie. It just makes them candidates for the loony bin.

But as for Mrs. Gough, in my opinion, she lied to CHA (cover her ass). See here's what happened: On June 9th, around 11:00 a.m. I was driving to work, taking the same route I have taken for nearly 10 years. I have a large truck, wide and tall. Someone in a small vehicle would be hard-pressed to see around me, left or right side. Matter of fact, drivers on either side would have to edge their vehicles far out into the main thoroughfare to see around or above my truck. It's a simple fact. But hey, everyone gets their turn.

Some people, like Melissa Gough, can't wait their turn and pull stupid, reckless and careless illegal manuevers because they consider themselves privileged or their "right" to subject other drives to their dumb-ass-ness.

Melissa Gough couldn't wait her turn. At a single-car, narrow left-turn lane intersection that bisects two major streets in Framingham, Mrs. Gough came up behind me, and passed me illegally on the left.

Nope, she could not wait her turn at all.

Matter of fact, not only did she not wait her turn and illegally pass me on my my left, her stupidity, recklessness, carelessness and negligence cut me off, blocked me and impeded me from making my left turn, causing me to hit her, causing the accident that has now subjected myself AND my son to extreme duress, not to mention the financial hardship that is pending as a result of her recklessness, carelessness - and her lies.

How do I know this? Remember I wrote a few paragraphs back that no matter how many times people lie there is always at least one peson who knows the truth? I know the truth. And Melissa Gough - even though she lied that day, and continues to perpetuate her lies - she knows the truth, too.

But I'm out ahead of her because the best part of the truth is that I only have to remember it one time. It never changes. And the events of the morning of June 9th are clear as granite quarry water because these events will never change. And the details of the accident will remain crystal clear in my mind.

And I intend to prove that Melissa Gough lied to the police and lied to her insurance company in order to cover her ass.  And lie that is going to come back and haunt her in the form of a civil lawsuit when I am finished with presenting my defense to the insurance commission. I don't know how to put a price on stress and loss of sleep and worry not to mention the fact my son is very upset and stressed out over Melissa Gough's lies. I'm a grownup. I can deal with this. But she is hurting my son. And while money can't take away his pain over this, it's the principal of the matter. Liars get caught eventually.

But let me take you through the events of June 9th: I had stopped on the main road, my left blinker on (one of my pet peeves is people who don't use blinkers - they are not installed for decorative purposes in cars, you know) and when I had a clear way, I turned left off the main road into the single-car, narrow left turn lane. I was the first vehicle in that lane.

This particular turn lane allows vehicles to turn left onto the next main street. A vehicle stops, and being that traffic is ONLY approaching from the right, a prudent, reasonable, experienced, seasoned veteran driver knows that he or she must yield to oncoming traffic from the right and when he or she has a clear path, may turn left without having to look left because there is no traffic approaching from the left.

With me so far?

So here I am, sitting at a complete stop in that single-car, narrow turn lane, and considering that when people turn into the lane, they are turning left so the natural "curve" of the turn is to hug the left side and there is maybe a two-foot gap between a vehicle sitting there and the "island" or "grassy berm" on the left of the vehicle.

I'm stopped, left blinker on, looking right, and given my 30 year plus years as a reporter, my attention to detail is acute. Three cars passed me coming from the right, the second being a police car. I then had a clear view on my right. And again, no reason in the world to look left because (a) no approaching traffic on the left; (b) I've driven that route for at least 10 years and (c) it was 11:00 a.m. and traffic was light and (d) no reason in the world to look left because there is NO TRAFFIC APPROACHING FROM THE LEFT.

So I'm looking right just in case a UFO decides to land all of a sudden and I step on the gas, with left blinker on, still looking right and CRUNCH! I slammed my foot on the brake, looked up and was horrified to see a car to my left driver's side, halfway into the street. My first thought that went through my head is WHERE THE EFF DID THAT CAR COME FROM? And the second thought was I knew the driver has passed me illegally on my left, cut me off, blocked me from making my turn and therefore caused the accident. Not only that, the driver's recklessness, carelessness and negligence could have caused a major accident because again, I have a large truck and she was driving a BMW. Her vehicle was halfway into the street, sideways and the only way she could have gotten to where her car was positioned at that moment is that she had to have driven up and over the berm, passing me illegally on my left, ending up halfway out in the street and subjecting her passenger to a possible "t-bone" situation. What an idiot.

I got out of my truck, saw the damage and went into shock! My entire front left driver's side fender was crushed inward, my light cover has large scrapes and scratches on it and worst of it all? I had just gotten this truck only five months ago.

I took a deep breath, walked over to her car, which was still halfway into the second main street, and I said to her, "What in the world were you thinking? You can't pass me on the left. That's illegal. Look what you've done to my truck! Oh my god, are you kidding me?"

She just stared at me, mumbled "I'm sorry I didn't know" and then shut up.

Then I called the police, I called my employer and continued to look at the damage - in shock - to my truck. The one thought rolling around my head was that I had been pushed up against the steering wheel by the impact and given I have three blood clots and have been told to be extremely careful about getting injured in any way, shape or form - even the slightest bruising can cause more blood clots - I became fearful. And I was thankful that my son was not in the car because he knows of my medical condition and he would have panicked.

I waited for the police officer to arrive, he saw the position of the cars, he could clearly see that Melissa Gough had passed me illegally on the left and caused the accident.

BUT ... since he didn't "see" it happen, he claimed he couldn't write up an accident report. (Note: I have since discovered that the officer should have written up a report because the damage to my truck is documented at well over a thousand dollars and given the fact he KNEW because of the registration that my vehicle was brand new, he should have but did not file an accident report. )

The cop then asked us if anyone was hurt, we both said no, and then he asked us to move our vehicles across the street to a bridge area where traffic could still easily pass without anyone subjecting themselves to being run over. And this is where Melissa Gough's lies began.

The cop asked us what happened. I told him the truth, I had stopped, I was first, Melissa Gough passed me on my left, cut me off, blocked me and caused the accident. She stood there, and I could see the uncertainty flitting over her features and the wheels turning in her head.

 She then said to the cop "She hit me. My car was there first."

I could not believe that she had just lied to the cop. My mouth dropped open and I stared at her. She looked everywhere but at me. Then she said "I have a witness." A woman I presumed to be her mother got out of the car and said "I'm a witness." I'm sure my shock was splashed all over my features.

I said, "what are you a witness to? Your daughter came up behind me, passed me illegally on my left and caused me to hit her because she should never have done what she did. What are you a witness to??"

The cop didn't seem to care very much, perhaps because no arms or legs were strewn about the street, there was no gushing blood from cartoid arteries having been pierce by flying metal, no large pieces of windshield glass sticking out from our eyeballs.

He said something snarky like "your insurance companies can duke it out."

But the lie was out of the bag.
The cop actually made some convoluted statement about how "young" he looked. Yes, he looked about 12 years old which is probably why he didn't feel the need to further question Mrs. Gough and her passenger about what REALLY happened. My gut feeling is that if the cop had pressed Mrs. Gough for specific details, she would have caved in under the pressure of interrogation and changed her story.

As it stands, not only did Mrs. Gough lie to the cop, she then filed a claim with her insurance company and lied to it.

But let me back up just a bit: In that turn lane, there is only room enough for second car to line up exactly behind the first car. Two vehicles - two trucks or two sedans or two dump trucks cannot fit side by side and the turn lane was not designed for side-by-side vehicle positions because anyone edging out onto the second main street would subject themselves to being "t-boned" by traffic approaching from the right. So the engineers of this turn lane designed it for cars to turn into it, line up back fender to front fender, and essentially, wait your damned turn.

The exception to this turn lane is that if a landscaping vehicle with a trailer or a dump truck turned into the lane, the vehicle behind each would have to wait on the main road to turn into the lane until either of those large-sized vehicles made the left turn onto the next main road.

The statistical probability of two vehicles lining up the way Mrs. Gough claims her vehicle and my vehicle lined up that morning in that turn lane is about zero in forty million.

But alas, her lies continued. She filled out her insurance claim and stated that her vehicle was in that turn lane first, that I hit her from behind and it was a "classic fender bender." That's it. I took a photo of her car, the right rear area of her BMW which is registered to her husband and not her. A scratch on her bumper and a scratch on her light cover. My truck took the brunt of the damage because of her stupidity, her negligence, her recklessness and of course, her lies.

Lies, lies, lies yah yah they're gonna get you .... Remember that song from the Thompson Twins?

Anyways, here's the end result: My own insurance company ruled against me and the claims rep (who I think can't be more than 12 years old) stated to me that she based her ruling SOLELY on the fact that Mrs. Gough's statement was consistent with the damage. The COMMERCE (yes, COMMERCE) claims rep never spoke to Mrs. Gough, never either viewed or fully viewed the numerous videos I took of the interesection, never viewed the simulation of the accident video I took using my son's Hot Wheels cars, and never fully or at all viewed the video of me standing at that intersection/turn lane to show that cars line up single file and not the way Mrs. Gough claims our vehicles were lined up.

The COMMERCE claims rep - her name is Maritzka Rivera - epic failed in her duty to protect me as her insured. Actually, she was pissed at me already because I complained to her supervisor about her lack of cooperation, her lack of responding to my numerous requests for confirmation of receipt of documents, etc. etc. So the claims rep already had a hard on for me and ruled against me, went on vacation and then just never bothered to tell me until I began to badger her supervisor about Ms. Rivera's lack of customer service.

Hate when that happens, don't you?

I am a sixteen year customer of Commerce. I have not cost it a DIME in claims except for two windshield replacements that were the result of normal wear and tear over the years. That's it. No speeding tickets, no drunk driving, no drugs, no texting, no sexting (ha ha) no distractions, no dogs trying to drive my car.

Nothing, Nada. Zero. Zilch. Not a dime.

But clearly that doesn't mean jack shit to Commerce.

I invited the Commerce claims rep to view the intersection. She refused. Ms. Rivera stated to me that she solely based her ruling against me on hearsay. On a single piece of paper with some words -- no, make that lies - written by Mrs. Gough and Ms. Rivera's EXACT words to me were "the other driver's statement is consistent with the damage to the vehicles."

Oh and Ms. Rivera told me in her "driving experience" drivers who rear-end other drivers are always at fault.

I think Ms. Rivera is about 12. She refused to disclose her "driving experience" or the length of time in which she's been a driver. I've been driving for 33 years. I don't think Ms. Rivera has been on Earth for that period of time.

Funny how the damage in THIS situation is confined EXACTLY to the left side of my driver's side fender and Mrs. Gough's alleged damage is EXACTLY to the right rear. Two scratches.

Nope. The statistical probability of two vehicles lining up the way Mrs. Gough claims we were lined up - nah, doesn't work for me.

So here I am up against Commerce the Insurance Giant who doesn't give a rat's ass about it's insured nevermind that I have a clean, (squeaky clean) driving record, haven't cost it a dime in sixteen years and there's Mrs. Melissa Gough of Sudbury, Massachusetts driving her husband's BMW and perpetuating the biggest lie in the world.

People lie to cover their asses. And Melissa Gough lied to cover her ass for one of several reasons: Her driving record is not so squeaky clean.

Or she lied simply bcause she could. Because, in my opinion, Melissa Gough is a coward, pathetic, disgusting and pretty much believes she's above the law.

Can't pass people on the left in that turn lane, Melissa Gough. The cop told me in a conversation recently if he had seen you do what you did, he would have issued you a citation. And then I would not be sitting here telling the entire world about your pretty little lies.

Funny thing is I wrote her a nice letter right after the accident and asked her to step up the plate and tell the truth. I gave her a chance. I asked her to do the right thing.

Epic fail, Mrs. Gough. Epic complete total fail.

I told her that I say to my son "If you tell me the truth, I won't be mad."

Clearly, Melissa Gough's parents never said that to HER.

I don't know whether Melissa Gough has any children, but I hope she doesn't because she is horribly poor excuse for a parent if this is the example she is setting for her child or children. Melissa Gough may as well say "hey kids, it's OK to lie and ruin other people's lives because it will save Mommy and Daddy a lot of money."

Melissa Gough to you, I say again: Liar liar pants on fire.

Sibling Bullying - Precursors or Simple Establishment of Sibling Hierarchy?

My brother bullied me when I was a kid. But now as an adult, I know it was just his way of establishing the sibling hierarchy - he was older AND of course, he was the boy so it was inherently normal for him to annoy the hell out of me and push me around a time or two. The bullying wasn't enough to bring me to tears or turn me into a serial killer but simply his way of keeping me in my place (wherever that was!). I remember when we were kids my mother would dress us in enough layers in winter to melt the polar ice caps and my brother would push me over in the snow and I could not get up. I was a turtle on its back and my brother would laugh at me and leave me there to figure out a walk to get back onto my two feet (hmmm. maybe I should have directed my anger at my mother and not my brother???)

I think sibling bullying is inherent - it is something that has been around for thousands of years - it's just the term "bullying" wasn't around when the cavemen brothers (and sisters) were beating each other up for no other reason other than they did. Most likely, back then, it was over a lost of stolen club or tool, or perhaps simply to garner the attention of parents - or garner the attention of a special boy or girl.
More often than not, brothers and sisters who annoy and bully their siblings are just being brothers and sisters and there is nothing vicious or cruel about their behavior. The younger sibling - usually the recipient of the torment - takes it to heart and feels his or her older sibling is nothing short of a monster that needs to be vaporized right then and there. In some instances, fists and feet will fly and patches of hair torn out of heads and parents have to listen to both sides of their children's argument to avoid the appearance of favoritism. An hour later, peace is usually restored.

So at what point does bullying escalate into the kind of vicious and horrendous daily torment that caused 15-year old Phoebe Prince to hang herself after months of bullying by high school classmates, or Rutgers' student Tyler Clementi to kill himself because his college roommates thought it would be "fun" to post a video online of Tyler having sex with someone of the same gender?

Schools have instituted policies to prevent bullying. States have passed anti-bullying laws to punish those who push others to the brink - and beyond. "Cyberbullying" is now a crime punishable by possible jail time. But are these laws harsh enough?

Not to the hard-core bullies. Those "policies" and "laws" are just words on paper. And their victims would rather suffer in silence - or in death - than stand up and tell the world how his or her own world is being destroyed by one tormentor.

Humans are wired to fight and protect themselves and their offspring, their land, their possessions. These are survival mechanisms that kick in instinctively when we are threatened. We protect ourselves - or attempt to - against those whose intentions are to inflict hurt and pain upon us in the form of words - written or verbal. With the technological advancements available, "cyberbullying" is a very real, tangible, living, breathing monster with tentacles that can reach all the way around the world and cause someone insurmountable pain.

Weapons in the form of words. I've written about this before.

But don't you wonder what prevents people like myself - and my brother who was simply a "brother bully" to me and has since grown and raised a family as I have done -- from crossing that line and becoming someone like one of those nine teenagers who bullied Phoebe Prince to her suicide or someone like one of those three Rutgers' students who bullied Tyler Clementi to take his life, too?

What set my brother and I apart from those genuine monsters? And each and every bully who caused someone's death?

There is not - and most likely never will be - a clear cut answer.

Snow in New England - It's Just A Way of Life

As I sit here and look out my kitchen windows I see how the branches of trees are reaching to the ground with the weight of the recent foot and a half plus of snow that Mother Nature dumped on us (she's sitting on a white-colored sand beach with a Pina Colada in her hand, snickering right now).

While the beauty of the scenery is spread out before me, I can't help but reminisce about my early childhood in Vermont. I was born during a blizzard and playing in the snow was part of my daily routine. It was nothing for my mother to bundle up my brother and I with enough layers of clothing that caused us to walk like Frankenstein but with certainty that her children were warm enough to withstand the harsh cold of Vermont.

I remember sledding down Hilltop Avenue on my wooden-slatted Radio Flyer sled and then of course the silver metal saucers and the heavy metal toboggans that of course were death sleds if you went up a jump and leaned to the wrong side. But I lived to tell about those death-defying rides which back then, simply evoked peals of laughter and a lot of chapped lips.

Of course, I didn't have to shovel any of it when I was younger but now, as an adult, I find myself looking at the snow with one eye closed and tyring to ascertain how much Tylenol I will need to alleviate the back pain incurred from shoveling all the snow (as I am doing right at this moment).

There is something wondrous about snow - especially when one has children with whom to enjoy that wonder. Snowmen with varying sizes of bodies, vegetable adornments and of course, the illustrious hat. Spray painting snow with food coloring. Snowball fights and forts. I remember not caring how much snow was on the ground but about playing in it, with it and how many things I could make with it.

While I balk at going outside because I do not like to be cold (and unfortunately, the Coumadin I take makes me a good candidate for an extra freezer because I am cold all the time), my son delights in newly fallen snow and I see myself in him - the way I used to be when I was his age - and his cajoling breaks me down and I end up outside with him and find myself enjoying the simple things that make him happy.

We are collecting a few spray bottles right now to take outside which will hold various colors of food coloring to pretend we are Picasso or Michaelangelo.

The snowbanks and snow-covered bark may not be the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel but for my son, they are places that he express his own creativity and be a kid.

And that's what matters most to me.

Of course, the hot chocolate and whipped cream that will follow our journey out into the winter wonderland will be an enticement back in all unto itself.

Senseless Tragedies in Arizona: Mental Illness Behind The Trigger

The shootings in Arizona - six people killed, 13 wounded including Arizona Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords who was shot in the head - is another senseless tragedy that has raised more questions to which no one has answers.

But the media and people around the country are once again pointing fingers at the "weak" gun laws in Arizona - and other states - for allowing persons like Jared Lee Loughner, to purchase the gun and ammunition which was used in his killing spree.

Let's be clear about one thing: It is NOT the gun that kills, it's the person behind the gun. And "weak" gun laws in any state are not going to prevent the tragedies as has occurred in Arizona.

Loughner, a 22-year old young man with a history of mental illness, opened fired on Giffords' "Congress On Your Corner" event, an event she had created for the benefit of the general public, an event where anyone could attend and voice their concern or issue - and be heard. Loughner purchased a semiautomatic gun and two magazines that held 30 bullets each, and two more that held 15 bullets each. He filled out the paperwork as required, provided proper identification (over 18 years of age) as required and passed the ATF federal background check which asked if he had ever been adjudicated mentally ill.

Loughner apparently has never been adjudicated mentally ill but is erratic behavior, his postings and writings on youtube.com have now raised the anger of many because he was allowed to purchase the gun that he used to kill six people in Arizona, including a nine-year old, and seriously wounding Giffords with a gunshot to her head.

Sadly and tragically, Christina Taylor Green, the nine-year old who was killed, was an "aspiring politician" who was newly elected to her school's student council and who was born on 9/11/01.

The media has profiled the victims of Loughner's massacre. The media has profiled Loughner to some degree and the portrait painted of this killer is blurred and smeared with indicators of mental illness.

Loughner was prone to "outbursts" of such an unusual nature that no one wanted to sit next to him in class. His behavior forced him to leave a community college. He was turned down when he attempted to enlist in the Army. 

But the pointing fingers keep turning back to the fact that Loughner was able to purchase a gun and use it to the extent he did.

How do we "tighten" gun laws? Should these laws even be tightened? The Second Amendment - the right to bear arms - is a constitutional right because as I stated - it's not the gun itself that kills - it's the person pulling the trigger. And determining if someone is "mentally stable" to purchase a gun is not up to the shop owner who sells that person a gun. It's not going to be found on a form and a blank box waiting to be checked either "yes" or "no" as to the purchaser's adjudication - or not - of mental illness.

A person can have mental illness without ever committing a crime. Unusual behavior or "outbursts" are not crimes and will not turn up in a background check. Loughner was not qualified to join the Army. Why? He was simply determined to be "unqualified."

You can sit and ask four thousand questions about Loughner, and you can point fingers at the alleged too weak gun laws but the fact remains is that mental illness can be hidden, it is not a piece of tangible, concrete evidence that will confirm or deny the psychological state of mind of a person, and certainly whether someone is approved or denied the ability to purchase a gun.

Even if Loughner had been denied his purchase, he would have found another way to carry out his murderous killing spree.

The killings are horrific tragedies and yet another reminder that mental illness still remains a mystery to many and is truly only brought to light when this kind of tragedy occurs.

Loughner will most likely not be deemed competent to stand trial and be committed for the rest of his life to a psychiatric institution and never be held accountable for his crimes because he himself may not understand his actions. It does not absolve him of his crimes and certainly, the store that sold Loughner his gun and ammo should not be blamed.

Perhaps Loughner has everyone fooled and knew exactly what he was doing - his actions being justified by only himself inside his own twisted, upside down world in which he has lived, inside his own blurred and smeared portrait of himself he painted in his brain.

His picture, unfortunately, is not worth a thousand words but a thousand more questions of how deep his mental illness is which will go unanswered forever.

Parenting Is Not for Dummies

I'm almost afraid to go check but did someone publish a book called "Parenting for Dummies?"

Parenting is not for dummies but unfortunately, many parents are just wired that way and certainly don't need a book to tell them what they already are - and worse.

This is my humor showing but let's be real here: When you "become" a parent, you are either in or out. That is about as black and white as it gets. However, as thousands and thousands of both mothers and fathers and moms and dads out there in this world, the lines between black and white are severely blurred by those "parents" who decide when he or she wants to be a "parent" to his/her child or children.

Let's look at definitions first. The American Heritage Student Dictionary defines parent as: "a man or woman who contributes one of the two reproductive cells that determine the genetic makeup of a child;" "a biological father or mother" and the third one "a person who nurtures and raises a child."

There is nothing in any of those three definitions that mention unconditional love, loving without expectation or terms or devotion or taking a bullet for your child or children, protecting your child from the monsters in the closet, spending quality time with your child or children (married, separated or divorced) and there is NOTHING in those three definitions that says a parent can pick and choose to be a parent when it suits him or her.

So, my question is for all the moms and dads in this world who "pick and choose" when you feel like being a parent: What gives you the right to decide when it suits you to be a parent?

Please don't get me wrong: This "picking and choosing" is an extremely common occurrence. And not surprising, it is not limited to divorced parents. It goes on in marriages.

But does anyone consider how it affects the child or children of these situations? I am not a perfect parent and I've never claimed to be and I will never be one but I have been a 24/7, 365 mom since the day I found out I was pregnant with Jake. There has not been one day that I woke up and said "huh. Don't feel like being a Mom today and actually followed through." Have there been times when I've wanted to throw myself in front of a bus because single parenthood got the best of me and I figured death was far better than going at this alone? Yes. But did I do it? No. Why? Because one look at my son was all it took to make me see that the sun is going to rise the next day and that the next day will probably be better than the day I thought about being bus kill.

People marry, people have kids. Or, people just have kids and kids and more kids by three or four different mothers and fathers. Some people have kids just to sleaze off state-aid services because they are supporting drug habits, criminal proclivities or are just plain lazy and will never amount to anything. Nice, shining examples for their children. And most like, those children will grow up to be exactly like their shining examples of parents.

Then there are those who marry, have a child or children, and realize what a horribly bad judgment call he or she made, extricates himself or herself from the marriage and embarks on the single parent journey which is fraught with frustration, anger, bitterness and resentment, struggles of the fourth kind while still trying to figure out how to be a parent when he or she has absolutely no tools with which to work.

Contrary to popular belief (and the books that line the shelves of bookstores all over the world), there is no book that tells you how to be a parent. None. Not one. Everyone is wired differently. Everyone takes a different approach. Some mimic what they already know from their own parents. Some, like me, just make it up as I go along. I had horrible role models for parents. Sure, I had a house (a structure built on a foundation), but never a home; I had a mother (but not a mom) and my memories of her are ironing with a wine glass in her hand and taking the horrific verbal abuse my father heaped upon her daily; and I had a father whose lust for power and money was far more important than taking his kids to summer camp, to sports practices and games, going outside and playing kick the can at night or helping with homework.

I had none of that. Which is the reason why the rift between myself and my three siblings is so huge and wide that there is nothing that can close that gap. And I thank my parents for creating that for us.

And this is the reason why I always believed I'd be a horrible parent and I never wanted children because I was so afraid I'd end up repeating the same learned behavior to which I'd been accustomed for the first 38 years of my life.

Somehow, someway, I did not repeat those learned patterns and behavior when I became a mother. I look at my son now and I can't describe the emotion he evokes inside of me - it is something so far beyond love it's not definable. And how my child brought that out in me will forever remain a mystery because I certainly was not the recipient of that same kind of love.

My ex-husband is an alcoholic so having grown up with a mother who nurtured her wine glass instead of her children, and a father whose quest for a firmly-rooted spot at the top of the employment chain was powered by more determination than he put into raising his kids - it's no wonder I chose unwisely when I married. I made a very bad judgment call. My ex drank, and he was far more interested in making as much money for himself than he was in saving for our future.

I married my family. Learned patterns, learned behavior. What a novel concept.

My son's father never got it. I just don't think he's cut out to be a father or parent or dad of any kind even though he has a second child. His parents were devoid of emotion - jeez, I NEVER saw them hug or kiss the whole time I was dating my ex-husband. Never. And even when I think back, my ex's affection was detached and like cardboard. I should of gotten a clue. But of course, what am I saying? Look at what I had for parents. So what in the world made me think I'd be any kind of a decent parent?

Because I stayed. I was in this single parent role for the long haul. I did not move, I did not remarry and (ugh) I did not have another child because I was too busy struggling to take care of the one I already had!

Clearly, my son's "father" had other ideas. He wasn't in Jake's life for the first three years - he just bailed and drank and went on his merry way. No kid, no responsibilities. Jake didn't even notice because I'm all he had. Then I went to court toward the end of the third year because I was just plain tired of struggling, was awarded child support and physical custody and a visitation schedule was arranged with which I had no problems because no matter what, I wanted my son to have some form of a father in his life. Boy, was I disillusioned. And then reality slapped me in the face for the next 10 and a half years.

My ex balked at the child support order. That's too much, he said. You don't need all that money. This child support is going to last you until Jake is 21 and I'm not giving you one penny more for anything or any reason. Huh. Really. Eight hundred dollars a month is going to last until Jake is 21years old.

And this is how it went. I do not remember a time when my ex gave me support willingly. I do not remember a time when he gave it to me on time. He had full access to his son anytime but he chose not to take advantage. There was no contribution to diapers, formula, clothes, toys, nothing. He'd call and say he was coming for a visit. And then never show up. And then I wouldn't hear from him for days and days.

My son was young but I could see the disappointment in his eyes every single day. My ex had girlfriends and attempted to bring them into my son's life. I said no - visitation is for you and your son - not your short-term relationships. He laughed at me and said, "well, too bad Jake's not going to see me because of you."

Alcoholics are impossible to deal with. I've learned that recently. Blame, denial, blame, denial. They do not take responsibility for their own actions and behavior because they are too busy consuming alcohol to see past the bottle from which they are destroying their lives - and the lives of others.

I finally got a divorce and a divorce agreement was hammered out. Pretty simple - we did not have any assets so the main crux of the agreement was taking care of Jake and his future.

Clearly, my ex husband thought the agreement was written in Swahili or some other foreign language because he failed to uphold most of the divorce agreement with the exception of the child support. He was supposed to set up a life insurance policy naming his son as a beneficiary. Not an unrealistic request. He is bound to pay half of my son's summer camp expenses and half of one sport in which my son participates per season. Not an unrealistic request. And he is bound to pay half of all of my son's college education including tuition, room and board and books and computers and whatever else goes with college expenses.

Now ask me if any of this has occurred either without a struggle or court intervention.

In March, 2007, my son came home from visiting his father and I found a nip bottle of vodka in his backpack. I'll spare you the details. But my ex decided to stop paying child support for nine months and I had to go back to court at which he was found in contempt but the judge actually said to my ex "if you want to drink, do it at home. Don't do it in front of your son." If I had a book I would have thrown it at her head. While I understand her statement, her thought process was clearly skewed.

So my ex's bank account was seized by DOR and I was already in deep credit card debt because I had nine months of no support to make up, and my ex calls me screaming because his mortgage check bounced. Yes, he remarried, bought a house, had another kid and oh gee, quite conveniently forgot that he already had a son that he wasn't financially and emotionally supporting. Wonder how that slipped his mind.

Oh, did I forget to mention he never paid the summer camp fees, the sporting fees and never contributes to clothes or school photos or any of the four hundred thousand other expenses above and beyond child support?

And on and on and on it has gone. He never talked to his son about remarrying and how it would affect him. He never talked to his son about moving far away that it would affect the visitation schedule. And never talked to his son about how having another child would affect him - not my ex, my son.

Clearly, I wasn't about to be the recipient of that talk which was fine but he just left his son out all together. 

I understand people move on after relationships or marriages end. People marry, divorce, remarry and have more children every time.

But I do not understand how these very same people can simply "move on" and start a "brand new family" and leave behind the child or children that were on this earth first.

That is what is so mind boggling to me. It shouldn't be because I'm so used to this behavior by my son's father all these years. But I still shake my head trying to figure out how this happens. Does the wiring just simply change? Or cross? What is it with mothers and fathers who leave the first child or children behind and sashay off to start a new life and a new family?

Paying child support (via wage garnishment) does NOT MAKE YOU THE WORLD'S GREATEST MOTHER OR FATHER.

My son will be 11 this year. And suddenly, he gets it. He will not speak to his father nor does he want to see him. It seems like all the vanishing years have caught up with my son and he has realized that anyone can be a "father" (biologically speaking") but being a "dad" is far, far different and way more involved.

I wrote my ex a five page letter basically saying "guess what? This is your problem. I've spent far too much time and too many years trying to fix your mistakes and I absolutely refuse to do that anymore. I've made too many of my own that I am still fixing but I will not fix yours. You either choose to fix this with your son or not. I did not move out of the area. I did not remarry. I did not have another child. You have done those things. Your financial woes are not my problem. Our divorce agreement is pretty short but very specific. You have not taken care of your son financially. But more importantly, he is now convinced that you do not love him because you refuse to take care of him. He wants to know why you can buy a house but not give me the money for the things you are supposed to, same benefiting only our son. "

And I concluded my letter with "Our son is not an out of sight, out of mind situation. He is a living, breathing human being, a little boy who is troubled and hurts fiercely inside because of you."

Now ask me if anything I said in my letter had any affect whatsoever. I mailed it Dec. 28th. Today is January 8th. Has his father come screeching into my driveway unannounced to see his son? No. Did he receive any Christmas present - hand-delivered - from his father? No. My ex just calls my cell and leaves short, lame messages that my son listens to and shakes his head when I hand him the phone and ask him if he wants to call his father back.

You cannot make a "dad." A father is a biological term. But a "dad" - that's created, molded, woven, built, welded, signed sealed and delivered.

The one thing that is twisting my heart into something akin to a pretzel is that I never had a dad, either. I had a father. But I never had a dad. And history has repeated itself because of me. Yes, I know, I could not predict the future and I didn't break the patterns of learned behavior soon enough because I married an alcoholic who cared more about making money than taking care of his child.

But here I am, nearly 11 years later, and while my son is hurting, he has formed a shield around himself that shines and glimmers like polished gold - he is funny, smart, sociable, loves Jeff Gordon and the Red Sox, is doing really well in school, loves to read and dreams of working at NASA someday because he can't ask enough questions about exactly how the universe was formed and why the nine planets in our solar system line up so perfectly and so symmtretrically that everything works the way it's supposed to, he bursts into hysterics when he sees the ASPCA animal commercials which tells me he has deep, deep compassion for animals, he thinks about kids in other countries who are victims of natural disasters and how can he help, even in some small way; and above all else, he will throw his arms around me and hug me and tell me how much he loves me and that I am his best Mom.

And that is what I have done, that is what I have created, woven, melded, moulded, welded and signed and sealed. And perhaps someday when my son calls me to tell me he discovered a new galaxy through the Hubble Telescope or waves at me via camera from the space station on which he's working, or calls me and tells me he delivered 10 puppies or he's designed a piece of a space capsule or he got a job as the lead frontman singer with a band or whatever it is he ends up doing, I'll know I got it right.

Anyone can be a mother or a father.

But being a "Mom" or a "Dad" - that's not even a job for Superman. You really just make it up as you go along and hope you get it right.

So far, I think I've done OK - all by myself, 24/7 365.

And I hope I get many more years to keep doing this "Mom" job.

Lifehouse: "I'm all in for life ..."

Golden Voice Ted Williams - A Second Chance

I know I blogged about this man recently but something caught my eye in a recent story I read. Ted Williams, the homeless man who has turned into an overnight sensation because of his "golden voice" (the ultimate radio voice), stated that he had always hoped something would happen that would make his now 92 year old mother proud of him again. Williams' descent into drugs and alcohol destroyed his life and he has been living on the streets in Ohio for nearly a decade.

But what exactly makes a parent proud of their children? Or more important, why is it so important for children (or adults in this case) to do something that will evoke pride from their mother or father or both?

I have always wrestled with this because the one question I would ask anyone is "are you doing something to make YOURSELF proud or doing something to make someone else proud?"

I think it should always be the former because if you feel that pride inside of your soul - whatever it is you do - then everything else is just a bonus. It shouldn't matter - really - what other people think of you as long as you have the self confidence and self esteem to believe that what you do, what you are doing or what you have done is prideful enough to sustain your own conscious. After all, you are the one who has to live with your decisions and results.

I have learned recently that no matter what a child does sometimes, it may never evoke pride from a parent. But that is NOT the child's fault. Parents are wired a certain way and sometimes that wiring is passed down to their child or children but I am a firm believer that we make our own destinies and we live with the rewards and successes or suffer the consequences of our actions. You can be as successful as they come, but sometimes it's just never enough for your parents.

Why? Because parents look at the success of their children and muse about their own failures and attempt to burden their children with that guilt of those failures. Trust me - I am living proof.

But Ted Williams admitted that drugs and alcohol took him down and destroyed is life. Some parents, like my own, will never admit their own follies and mistakes because it would be they may have failed in their role as a parent because all four of their children are as distant as Pluto from one another and there is no sibling love in our family and therefore, none of us give a hoot about making anyone proud - certainly not our parents. My father embraced his role as a vice president of a major company with more than just gusto and determination - there was greed and power laced into his drive for success and during that drive, he left his family behind to flounder. My mother was from a alcoholic family and i don't remember a day when she didn't have a glass of wine in her hand. But as a kid, I thought that was all normal. And certainly, getting straight A's in school, staying out of trouble didn't evoke any pride from my parents because both were too immersed in their miseries - or successes - to realize that their own kids were waiting for them to say "hey, wow, great job, i am so proud of you." I don't recall my parents ever saying that to me.

And now as an adult, I look at my son and know that I didn't turn out to be wired any way except the way I am wired for me. My son brings home an A - I slobber all over him. He brings home a B, I slobber all over him. I tell him every single day how much I love him, and how proud I am of him. When my son struggles with a homework assignment, particularly a writing assignment, I tell him, "Do your best - whatever your best may be."

And whatever the outcome, I know I'll still be proud of him.

I've made it through nearly 49 years floundering in the waters of life without drowning and in the past few weeks, I seem to be making it back to shore, getting my feet back on solid ground. I didn't descend into drugs or alcohol in my life but sometimes the haunting memories of a life that was not filled with pride and words from parents that would have meant everything - maybe - still try to grab hold of me and shake me up.

But then I just turn and push those memories down into the water and drown them and keep my eye on the shore.

I hope Ted Williams does the exact same thing. Keep walking in a straight line and keep your eye on the shore. It's solid ground and you are the only one who should matter now. If you succeed and become successful and defeat the demons that have gripped you for so long, then you have won both the battle and the war.

And that's is your own pride that you will create. And that is what will count the most.

It's Never Too Late To Be What You Might Have Been

I watched a video last night which has been making the rounds on youtube.com about a man with a golden voice - Ted Williams, a homeless man (or vagrant as one website deemed him) who panhandled for money in exchange for a vocal display of his gift.

Apparently, a reporter from a Columbus, Ohio newspaper heard this man's voice and now Mr. Williams is all over the news, all over the radio, and job offers and offers of a residence are pouring in.

When I heard THAT voice come out of his mouth, it evoked the same reaction when I first saw Clay Aiken on American Idol and Susan Boyle.

At first glance, you want to dismiss these people for their ordinary looks, frumpy dress, or whatever it is that causes people to go "yah, right."

Who are we to judge by outward appearances? But human natures succumbs to that - judging all the way to the grave.

For whatever the reasons Ted Williams (I LOVE his name) ended up homeless and penniless, he may now have a second lease on life. Why Susan Boyle had been hidden from the world for so long is perhaps a matter of mitigating circumstances - she just could not put herself in the right place at the right time for someone to hear that she, too, had an amazing voice. And look what happened - she rocketed to stardom.

Granted, Clay Aiken's ride to superstardom was short lived but the fact remains he will always have that amazing voice and I believe now he is a father. How amazing will it be when his children hear their dad sing to them?

Many of us are born with gifts. Some of us grab that gift and run as fast as they can and find the niche in this world in which they were meant to be a part and share that gift. Others have no idea what to do with their gift and live a life of mediocrity simply because they were never given the encouragement nor the tools with which to share their gift. Parents can be a damning influence ("you'll never amount to anything even if you are a genius or you can sing or play guitar or piano or paint ..." you get the picture).

But then there are those of us who let life pass by and never utilize our gift to its absolute fullest until something knocks us off our rails and we stand back and realize that our gift - whatever it may be - is our ticket to a new ride to a better life.

Ted Williams is going to get that chance.

Susan Boyle got the chance.

And then of course there's me.

And the thought that crosses my mind right now is yes, it's never too late to be what you might have been.

Raunchy Videos from the Enterprise - Honors Has Gone Where No Man Has Gone Before!

Captain Owen Honors, the Naval Commander of the U.S.S. Enterprise has been relieved, fired, removed, from his post over raunchy videos that surfaced (so what else is new?) and that caused fierce consternation and obvious embarrassment to the US Navy over the contents.

The videos were allegedly shot in 2006 and 2007 and were made for crew entertainment only - on closed circuit TV aboard the Enterprise and not for public viewing.

I personally have not seen the videos in their entirety (who has?) only edited versions that the Virginian Pilot newspaper posted.

Here is my question: While the anti-gay slurs are not appropriate, is it really necessary to relieve him of his post? I mean c'mon - Capt. Honors is NOT a terrorist, child molester or bomber or any other horrific type of criminal. And it's not like he was having sex with anyone in the video, either.

I understand that since President Obama repealed the "don't ask, don't tell" law or whatever it was called in the military that the military is now genuinely conscious of any kind of anti-gayisms (is that the correct terminology?) that anyone makes - verbal or written. And I am a supporter of common sense when it comes to people who say stupid things and should have STUPID DUMB ASS tattooed on his or her forehead for making anti-gay or anti-semitic or any kinds of comments that raise the ire of certain 'groups' that employ political correctedness 24/7 365. I get all of that.

But Capt. Honors is, according to news reports, an exemplary officer and there are many people defending him and his so-called lewd, comedic videos.

Frankly, I could care less what kinds of videos he makes as long as he defends my country and keeps the whackheads who wake up in the morning and decide to strap on a bomb instead of a belt after having their bagel and orange juice and go out and smithereen a few hundred civilians (infidels for you detail oriented readers) all in the name of Allah Schmallah from dive bombing on me!

I think the Navy has overreacted to these videos. Suffice to say, Capt. Honors will probably profusely apologize to the world for his "lack of judgment, common sense and his inappropriate language and footage of other naval officers who were involved in the making of the videos" and all that blah blah blah that everyone has to say when they get pushed into a corner and scolded for being naughty, and in Capt. Honors case, demoted down to the naval dungeon (admin position).

There are far more important things that the Navy should be paying attention to than Capt. Honors' videos from three and and four years ago. Who cares? He didn't hurt anyone, the videos weren't snuff videos (heaven forbid), no animals were hurt in the making of the videos and I don't think the USS Enterprise was being attacked by anyone during the making of the videos.

In two weeks, this will be old news and something or someone else will become chopped liver fodder for the media to devour.

In my famous last words (rolling my eyes) ... WhatEVAH.

Frankly, the blackbirds falling out of the sky in Arkansas is far more interesting. Perhaps the US Air Force should be checking this out? Aliens abducting blackbirds for experiments?

OK, OK, enough of my twisted humor.





 

Day 3 of 2011 - Taking Trips Down Memory Lane on Facebook

Facebook has become a window to my past the last few days as I am "finding" people with whom I attended elementary and junior high school. Some I simply remember by their names and then everything is just blank. Some I remember as people I didn't like very much because I was bullied just because of my former last name which I refuse to print here other than to write (a) it RHYMES with a Disney character and something about his nose and (b) little known fact - my former last name is also known as a certain kind of Italian celery (fennel) that tastes like black licorice which in itself is absolutely DISGUSTING! Notwithstanding the fact that having been bullied much of my life because of my name, I still cringe when it's spoken out loud because it just brings back bad memories and I literally RAN into the courtroom when I was old enough, waving my name change form in front of the judge's face. Best $80.00 I ever spent!

Anyways, back to memory lane. I've "friend requested" a bunch of people from eons ago who may or may not accept my request - many have already done so - because they don't know who I am. I won't accept anyone I do not know. Some I've actually asked who the heck he or she is because I could not imagine why he or she was friend requesting me.

Friend requesting is an interesting concept. You get a little "yahoo guy" that does a little dance inside of you when someone accepts your request and that little "yahoo guy" slumps his shoulders in dejection (and rejection?) when you see your friend list drop down one or two or three because someone or several "friends" have dropped you. And you have no idea who dropped you unless you are one meticulous list making son of a gun who actually KEEPS a list of friends and peruses it every day to see who has dropped you from their facebook page ! (that's kinda creepy if you ask me. Those people need to get a serious life).

But for me, right now, it's kinda cool finding people that I went to school with even if they have no idea who I am! I know who they are. And even if they don't accept me, it won't phase me in the least. People get too sensitive over Facebook dropping or whatever it's called. Who cares? How many of the people on your friends' list do you actually SEE? Most of my friends are people I graduated with and I have gone for YEARS without seeing most of them! Others are random people who are friends of friends that I will never meet and others are members of my extended family - my cousins. My sister and nephew are on my page but I never talk to them online!

One of the people I went to junior high school with accepted my friend request and I was stunned to see he's some kind of big rock star now! How cool is that! Funny how we don't think about that stuff when we are young or, alternatively, what we think we will be when we grow up isn't how our lives turn out. It's whether we allow our lives to fill with regrets that will keep us from making our dreams a reality or if we simply move on and find a way to fulfill at least one of the dreams of our youth. I did - I got to pitch for the Boston Red Sox in 1986 when I attended one of those fantasy camps. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat just to say I got to pitch - twice. And of course, writing books has always been my biggest dream. if JK Rowling can do what she did, then why can't I?

My favorite quote is "It's never too late to be what you might have been."

It really isn't if you just believe in yourself.

Now, if only my teenage naval officer George Chapman who was stationed in Norfolk, Virginia on the U.S.S. Enterprise and who I genuinely liked - alot - would turn up!

You never know.

Day 2 of 2011 and Once Again Food Rules - Five Guys

I am a carnivore. I admit it. I like meat. Red meat and still mooing. I know that sounds disgusting to many people but I figure since I've been eating rare burgers and steak since I was a kid and am still alive and blogging about it, eating rare meat is not a death wish (now watch me keel over dead after I finish this blog.

My son has semi-inherited my love of all red meat. He will eat the Chinese teriakyi steak sticks (who doesn't) and my meatloaf and burgers with cheese and ketchup - and that's it.

I,on the other hand, load my burgers with as many "fixings" as possible. And THEN I put on enough ketchup to fill a small country.

Today my son and I had supper at Five Guys, a no-frills burger place in Framingham that sells hamburgers, cheeseburgers and hamburgers and cheeseburgers and hot dogs, I think. My best friend Julie recommended this place and said "get the little burger." The "little" burger was a bit bigger than average size - plenty for me and clearly, for my son. And it was NOT flat as a pancake like Mickey D burgers.

The place is decorated simply. Small square wooden tables and wooden chairs, red and white decor, and get this - peanuts in the shell on the table in a cardbord container. Just one of those no-nonsense burger joints.

I think I inhaled my burger - it was that good. Cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, grilled mushrooms and jalapenos. And a lot of ketchup. Yah, I know, people say why bother getting the burger if you're just gonna drown it in ketchup. Excuse me - I am the one eating the burger and I can taste the burger just fine thank you very much.

But Five Guys burgers were absolutely outstanding. Not too greasy but just enough grease to give the burger amazing flavor and not too thick that you couldn't take a seriously big bite. I don't know what the "regular" burgers look like - but the "little" burgers were definitely worth the first mouthful.

The french fries are real fries made from real potatoes right on the spot I think 'coz I saw bags and bags of potatoes stacked up on the floor as I walked in the door. There was a steady stream of customers coming and going and we did not wait even 10 minutes to get our order. Jake inhaled his burger. Mine was already digesting by the time he finished his.

The fixings are FREE - yes, I said free. And free refills on the soda. Kind of a throwback to the restaurants of the old days. I had to ask the cashier if I was reading the "free fixings" and "free refills" right.

This place is definitely worth bringing family to. I think they have hot dogs so for the young kids, it may be worth it to try this place out. I'm not a big hot dog eater but I'd be willing to try one if the dogs are as good as the burgers.

You know what I wish? I wish I was independently wealthy that I could take an entire summer off with my son, buy a motorhome and travel around the country and eat at all the places the Travel Channel touts as the Top 100 Best Places to eat in the country. How cool would that be???? Of course, having dropped nearly 35 pounds, I'd have to find a pool and/or a health club at which to swim or get on a treadmill every day so as not to gain the weight back! And of COURSE I'd have to take in as many major league ballgames as possible along the way. Jake and I have a standing invitation to a Kansas City Royals game if we ever find ourselves in KC.

But seriously, how much fun would that be to do that?

How much is Megamillions on Tuesday?????????!!!!!

1-11-11 Palindrome Day

My Einstein son said Happy New Year to me when he came down the stairs this morning and immediately pointed out that today is a palindrome. If only I was wired that way ....

Think about it, though. A palindrome is numbers or words that are spelled exactly the same backwards and forwards. Either you look at that as simplicity at is finest or the most boring aspect of numbers and words. Aren't words supposed to stand out boldly and mightily? Aren't numbers supposed to add up to something or take away something or multiply something or divide something as big as the Grand Canyon?

Many people live their lives like a palindrome. Always the same - backward or forward. That sounds safe and comfortable. But devoid of passion, change, color, light, all the emotions that humans possess.

I am NOT a palindrome. I was for a while. But not anymore.

I didn't win Megamillions last night. No one did. I took a small bit of comfort in that knowledge.

So what is in store for me for 2011? No clue. I know about today. And right now, that's all I need to know. In six months, I learned not to try to predict events that have not (or may not) happen. I have learned not to let others' guilt or displeasure, happiness or sorrow, anger, bitterness or resentment make ME feel that way - only if I allow it to happen. I am done 'allowing' other people's emotions to control me and my life.

I control my life. And my son's. And he and I are all that matter. Everything and everyone else is secondary. That's not to say I'm going to become a recluse - far, far from that. But I went through six months of self-discovery and a lot was horrendously painful and full of regrets and sorrow. But I am learning how to overcome what I allowed others to make me feel.

My mother is an alcoholic. My sister is a drug addict. My youngest sister is just plain rotten to the core. And my brother is as detached from his immediate family as a freestanding three-car garage. And there is my father who lives in Florida, and still has enough money to wallpaper the state, but who is alone because none of his children or grandchildren speak to him. Actually, my mother is like that too except she tries to live her life through her children - mostly living it inside her wine glass and wine bottle.

I refuse to allow her or anyone in my family - or my son's father inclusive - to make me feel bad about how my life has turned out. While I was influenced obviously because my family history, I am the only one to whom I have to answer every single day.

But it still very, very difficult to comprehend that both of my parents do not love me, or perhaps do not love me in the manner I expect them to. I have discovered that their love always came with a condition, a term and an expectation. Neither understand the concept of unconditional love. My entire life was a big term, a specific condition and of course, the expectation that they would love me if .... Boy, that really sucked when i found that out. But then again, looking back and right up until now present day, it comes as no surprise.

And of course, what is even more not a surprise is the learned pattern of behavior that persons like myself tend to repeat over and over and over when seeking a relationship because what we learn is all we know. Some, like my brother, simply find another family that actually had the proper tools with which to guide their own children and my brother found that family when he met his wife and he grew up to be a decent loving father. But he still despises his siblings and doesn't hesitate to take out the knife and stab any one of us at any given time. In a way, I don't blame him because we are all bad reminders of his own childhood. We are all bad reminders of each other, period. But he's wealthy and he owns three homes and is very very successful and unfortunately has put himself up on a pedestal to look down upon his three sisters who all failed in some capacity in life. All three sisters are divorced. My brother has been married for eons. But again, he got his tools from somewhere else - not his own family. I bet if some rocket scientist psychologist got a hold of my brother, my brother would crumble like a cookie and reveal how his father crushed his dreams, that his father called his wife to be a 'goddamned spic' and didn't pay a penny toward my brother's college education which is probably what pushed my brother to be somebody. Not because he wanted to, but because he wanted to throw it back in his father's face (quietly of course) but still pretend that he has a relationship with his father just because he became successful, too.

Well boulya to you, brother.

But do I care? Not anymore. This is why I write about it. It's cathartic getting this crap out of my system. Each minute I peel away a piece of the past that is littered with my dysfunctional family, my former relationships which weren't relationships at all  --- and discard that piece. Bigger pieces still lay upon my soul like thousands of years of sediment. I bet if someone dug far enough into me, they'd find a t-rex LOL

But I'll get there. But it's still hard. I am surrounded by people whose parents would do anything for their kids - and do. Even as adults. And the reason ? Those parents would say, "hey,those are my KIDS.' Who wouldn't help their kids in dire straights?"

My hand is already up in there air.

My parents wouldn't help me. And when I asked, I was refused flat out and called horrible names by my mother and my father - well, I knew what he thought of me when I was eight years old. He crushed me long before he crushed my brother.

BUT I am still here. Somehow, someway. And I have a son who's almost 11 and I will do anything for him. I will not be like my parents (and I never have been) and I have no idea how I was able to turn out to be a good mother.

Maybe I did end up being wired a certain way. It just took having a son to figure it out.

And of course, I seem to have found a place in my soul that I opened up and let God in. Little by little. Some of prayers were answered. Big ones, actually. So I have to have faith that something or someone was listening. And perhaps everything that happened in the past six months was for a very specific reason. I haven't figured out what it is yet.

I still miss Alex. There are just certain hurts that will never go away. And he is one of those hurts.

But I did say to him "hey, it's your loss, not mine."

And that is the truth. It's my mother's loss, my father's loss, my brother's loss and every single person who made me feel bad about myself - because I allowed them to make me feel that way.

No more. Hasta la veesta all you negative sayers. No more.

And yes, it is REALLY your loss.

2011 - I am ready. Or getting there each day.