Learning To Friend

I have a confession to make.

I don't have many friends. 

I'm friendly with many people but when it comes to intimate interaction and genuine trust, well, that's where my walls go up.

See, for reasons that I haven't quite figured out yet, I have a really hard time building and maintaining meaningful friendships.

I mean, I have friends. 

If you take Facebook into account I have 335 friends. 

But I'm talking about the kind of friends you have actual interaction with. The ones you call to chat with and talk about each other's day. 

And the kind you...oh, who am I kidding? I don't know what friends do. I listen to people talk about what they did with their friends and what they're going to do with their friends so I guess those are the kinds of things that friends do.

I'll receive a card in the mail from a friend, which is awesome, but I would never think to do that myself. The thought would never cross my mind. A card for no reason? But why not? 

I'm also terrible at remembering my friends birthdays.

(another one of Facebook's great uses)

When life gets too busy I stop calling my friends. I will sometimes go a few weeks without talking to some of them. Maybe even longer.

I think one of the causes of my inability to friend stems from the fact that all of my life, I've felt isolated and alone even in a room full of friendly, outgoing people...even among my friends. It's hard to explain but I think it has a lot to do with me having low self-esteem amd thinking that no one likes me.

See, I would play this game, except I didn't know it was a game at the time. I would be somewhere, let's say I would go to church. I would go in and quickly sit down in the back somewhere. Somewhere I wouldn't draw too much attention to myself and I would sit quietly with my best "I-want-to-be-your-friend-love-me-love-me-love-me" smile on my face waiting for people to approach me instead of taking the first frightening step myself of approaching them. I would sit there and think that if they wanted to be my friend then they would come over and talk to me. When they didn't come over to me I believed that they must not want to be my friend. 

Now that I'm older I can see how this "game" stopped me from making friends.
The people around me were probably sitting there waiting for me to come over to them. Maybe they thought that I didn't want to be their friend because I never talked to them or if I did I only did so occasionally when I had worked up enough nerve or was too caffeinated to remain in my seat.

But let me clear something up. I don't want those few friends that I have in my life to think I don't consider them friends because I do. I love each and every one of them and I appreciate their friendship so much. I've been friends with one of them for 25 years. But most of my friends are either new friends or have only been friends with me for a few years. 

Which indicates to me that my inability to be a good friend pushes people away. 

So, if you are one of those friends that have become my friend within the last few years or so, please be patient with me. 

I appreciate you. 

I need you. 

I think you're amazing! 

I'm just not as good at expressing friendship as you might be used to and I'm sorry. 

I am slowly learning to friend.

 Jurney Eve



Pedophile's Guide To Love And Pleasure?!? CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?!?

I am completely outraged!

I just found out not too long ago about a man named  Phillip R Greaves who wrote a book about how to be a better pedophile. He self-published it under the title The Pedophile's Guide To Love and Pleasure.

Can you believe this?!?

It was only available for sale through Amazon's Kindle for a few days before people...other than pedophiles...started to take notice, but the damage had already been done. It sold over 300 copies in its first day!

300 copies!

That's more than my book has sold overall and he sold that in one day!

(pathetic, I know)

That goes to show just how many sick, disgusting people  / animals / sacks-of-garbage there are out there.
I think that each and every one of those sacks-of-garbage should be hunted down and investigated because you have got to be a pedophile yourself if you bought this book.

How about all of those people with pedophile tendencies that might not have acted on them but were encouraged by this man's words?!?

I'm literally having a hard time getting this out of my mind.


Jurney Eve


One Small Victory

Today I received a phone call from my connection at the NY State Police Department about *Mr. Smith. 
I don't know if you remember but *Mr. Smith is due to be released from prison in April of 2011. 

At that time, he will be a free man. 

I mean, truly a free man.

No parole. 

No probation. 

No restraining orders.

A free man!

Some of them being not like that idea. These are the people who have been involved in his case or who have been lucky enough to come in contact with him over the last 19 years. 

They know that he is not rehabilitated.

But what can they do?!?

They made the decision to attempt to have him civilly confined. What that means is, if a prisoner exhibits a mental illness that might increase his probability to commit another dangerous crime, then he can be confined to a mental health facility even after his prison sentence has been served.

Of course,some people think this is a violation of the prisoner's constitutional rights, therefore, it is a little controversial.

*Mr. Smith has been preparing all summer for this trial. It has been postponed at least twice and canceled once as well. But today...he finally stood trial to determine whether or not he should be civilly confined and the jury said...

Y E S !





(another somersault)

(lots of screaming and a few tears of relief and joy)

One small victory!

Jurney Eve


Intended Harm

It's been 6 months since my book was published. 

Have you bought your copy yet?

Jurney Eve


Treadmill for Sale

So I have this treadmill, which is something I never thought I would own, let alone spend almost $1000 on it, because I am a self-proclaimed lazy person. 
I loath exercise. 
See, I have been blessed with a high metabolism which didn't require exercise when I was younger to maintain my girlish figure. 

(Take note of "when I was younger" please) 

Now, I am a 36 year old mother of 3. My metabolism isn't quite what it used to be and, I unfortunately spend WAY too much time in front of this computer. 
I blame technology. 
So anyway, I bought this treadmill thinking if I plant that puppy right in front of my tv I might just become one of those people who exercise. 
I might even start to like it. 
I wasn't especially trying to lose weight. I was mostly trying to get healthy.
Weeeeellllll....that's not entirely true. 
I am 5'4" and, at the time of the treadmill purchase, I weighed 126lbs. I was considered a healthy weight. What I truly wanted out of my new treadmill was the confidence to sunbathe at the pool that upcoming summer. 
Now before you go all "boo-hoo. She weighed 126lbs. What was she a size 6?" Let me just paint a picture for you.

I live in a HUGE apartment complex FULL of 20-something, perfectly sculpted, scantily clad, freakishly tanned, college kids who spend their entire summer hanging out at the pool. 

I swear. I don't think any of them had jobs. 

While I am a 36 year old, mother of 3 with the stretch marks to prove it and absolutely no muscle tone, who is forced to spend her entire summer at the pool as well because of her kids.

I was simply hoping for a little muscle tone to boost my self-esteem but something strange happened about 3 weeks after purchasing the treadmill.
I received a license to chill.
Not an actual license but it was like, having that treadmill gave me permission to eat whatever I wanted. 
"Should I eat those donuts? 
Yeah! I'll just get on my treadmill later."
"Yeah, give me a BIG piece of cake. 
I'll just get on the treadmill later."

But "later" never came.

Now my treadmill is my coat/purse/kids' backpacks/junk food... hanger.
Every once in awhile, I'll dust her off with the intention off getting on her but then I'll look at the mound of crap I have on her and decide it's not worth it.

Sad! I know.

So, flash forward a year and a is the summer of 2010 and I weigh 146lbs. I've gained a whopping 20 lbs in 1.5 years...AND THERE'S A STINKIN' TREADMILL IN MY LIVING ROOM!!!!!

Oh, treadmill. What have you done to me?

BUT...There is a a happy ending to this story...I have discovered a new way to lose weight. 

It's called "Getting a Day Job"

My youngest started school this year, which freed up my days to get a job. I have been working days for about a month now.  I have also been eating a lot healthier this summer and I'm sure that has contributed as well, but the day job has been a TREMENDOUS help because it forces me away from my beloved computer. It stops me from eating all day while sitting motionless at my beloved computer and it just takes my mind off of food in general.

Well...I just weighed myself this morning and...drum roll please...I now weigh 127lbs!!!!!

YAY ME!!!!!

Does anyone want to buy a treadmill?  

Jurney Eve


The Great Pumpkin of 2010

Every fall, my mother-in-law thinks it's necessary to give us a giant pumpkin that she has grown from her garden especially for my kids. She always decorates it. 
This year she chose a pirate theme. 
The kids love the pumpkins. What I don't love is the fact that she lives 4 hours away from us, and in my mind, driving 4 hours for a giant pumpkin isn't exactly my idea of a good time. But it would be nice to see them.
So, we compromised. They drive 2 hours and I drive 2 hours. We meet in the middle, exchange the pumpkin and then spend a few hours with them.
We are finally home now. 
The kids got to see their grandparents and I got to eat at the Olive Garden. 

 Operation Great Pumpkin was a success.


My son's new hobby.

My Poor Baby Girl Update

Just a quick update on my poor baby girl.

Their Facebook status' have them listed as "married" again.

I asked her if that was what she really wanted and her response was, "I was so sad when we were broken up."

I told her about a time or two, when I was younger, when I wanted to break up with a boyfriend but when I did I felt so guilty and sad that I went back out with him just because I hated feeling that way. 
It didn't take long before I realized that, yes I was sad but I still didn't want to be his girlfriend.
She said they didn't get back together because she felt guilty. She said it was because she loves him sooooooo much and it hurt too much.

Aww! How sweet! 

Maybe...if those words were coming from someone else's 14 year old daughter.
Letting out the leash on your kids has got to be the hardest thing about far.

Jurney Eve


My Poor Baby Girl

Today I received a phone call from the school nurse...which is always cause for near heart failure.
It was from the high school's nurse, telling me that my daughter's stomach was hurting her and if I wanted to come get her I could.
So I did.
She had been complaining about her stomach last night too. She even went to bed at 6pm. I told her she could have stayed home from school today but she said she felt fine.
So she went to school.
After I picked her up, she confessed to me why her stomach has been bothering her.
She broke up with her boyfriend yesterday.
I asked her what happened and she said that she had decided they were too young to be in a relationship for that long and that they never got to see each other.
When I heard this I had mixed emotions.
My first emotion was immediate concern for my daughter's broken heart. I knew she loved him...or so her 14-year-old self thought she I knew she must be hurting.
My second emotion...was relief.
I know that sounds horrible but she's too young to be this serious over a boy! I mean, their Facebook status' had them listed as "married" to each other.
My BFF always thought I was overreacting. She kept reassuring me that my daughter was NOT going to end up a pregnant, married teenager living in a trailer.
(My apologies to anyone who lives, or who used to live in a trailer. I grew up in a trailer myself. The comment was just for comedic reasons.)
So, now my baby girl is hurting and I just want to hold her and hang out with her and make sure she's ok but all she wants to do is listen to music and text her friends.
I even tried to take her out for some retail therapy. She just wanted to go home.
My poor baby girl!

Jurney Eve

Peep Show

Well, today has been an interesting day...and it's only 10:43am. 
My car broke down on my way home from dropping the kids off at school and I had to push it all by myself through an intersection and into a parking spot. 
Then, I had to walk home.
Let this be a lesson...never wear your pajamas out of the house. Even if you're just going around the corner for a minute.
Hopefully none of my neighbors saw me.


School Days

I'm so not good at keeping you updated. I'm sorry about that. 
I have still not heard anything new about Mr. Smith's trial. I am under the impression that I will be contacted if something new develops. I hope. 
School is going well. My kindergartner has already missed a day because of a cold but she's medicated now and ready for more school. Ha ha ha! She LOVES school! She can't get enough of it. I wonder how long this feeling will last.
My fourth grader felt that same way when he was in kindergarten but now...not so much. He HATES school! He was just telling me this morning on the walk to the bus stop just how much he dislikes school, the bus, his classes. His sister asked him what his favorite part of the school day is and his answer was "dismissal".
Poor kid! 
My high school-er, on the other hand, LOVES school! She did say she thinks the upper classmen are a bit scary far so good. She's taking an 11th grade math class! She's the only freshman.
Woah! She's so amazing! 
I am having mixed emotions about my new found "freedom". All of the kids are in school now. There are no cartoons on tv. As a matter of fact, I don't even turn the tv on anymore. It's so quiet here. I keep finding little jobs to do to keep me busy.
On the first day of school, I purchased a loft bed for my son and spent the day putting it myself!
The second day, I went through the house and took a bunch of stuff to the goodwill.
The third day, I just cleaned, cleaned, cleaned...only to work all weekend and start the next week off guessed it, a dirty house.
So this week, I kind of relaxed a bit. Who cares if I have a clean house? Ok, I do. But it's not that dirty.
I need to get myself on a schedule or something because I find myself sitting at the computer, drinking my coffee most mornings until 11 am or sometimes even later. 
I need some motivation.
Maybe I'll turn on cartoons.

Jurney Eve



Silence is Frustrating...Sometimes

I still haven't heard any news about Mr. Smith's trial. It's rather annoying and frustrating, but I'm keeping busy with all the "back-to-school" preparations. 

One and a half weeks until the first day of school. Everyone is so excited, including me. :) 

Does that make me a bad mother? Ha ha ha!

My little kindergartner got her first professional haircut. She looks so cute. She was so excited she kept wriggling her feet, which was making her whole body move. She had a huge grin on her face the whole time. It was adorable! 

I will keep you updated on the trial.


Justice At Its Best

I'm sorry I haven't blogged anything in awhile. Let me update you.

In my last entry, on May 24th, I told you about Mr. Smith's trial. That trial never happened. Apparently, there was a conflict in the scheduling and not all of the witnesses were available to testify. So, they rescheduled his trial for August 3rd. 

That trial was declared a mistrial so now they have to reschedule it again. I don't know what the new date is yet but I'll keep you updated. I promise.

So, does anyone want to know why the second trial was declared a mistrial? This is a good one. 

Ok, this trial is taking place to determine whether or not Mr. Smith is at risk of committing another sex crime when he is released next April. Most people seem to think he is incredibly likely to do just that. A good example of this is, one instance a few years back, he threatened to attack and rape a female prison guard but for some reason that has yet to be explained to me, the judge isn't allowing this evidence to be presented to the jury. While one of the psychiatrists was on the stand, he mentioned this and , therefore, the trial was declared a mistrial.

Justice at it's best people.


Trial-Day 1

Today is May 24, 2010, which means that Mr. Smith's trial starts today. It goes until May 28 where they will hopefully come to the conclusion that he has a mental illness that makes him likely to commit another sex crime. If they do come to that conclusion then instead of being released on April 28, 2011, he will be sent to a mental health facility. After that, he will be re-evaluated every year. If at some point during his stay at the mental health facility he is found mentally fit, then he will be released.
This trial makes me very anxious. 
The emotional side of me wants him to be found mentally ill so that he won't be released and my life can continue as usual. I mean, if he is released next year, I'm going to have to alter my entire life. My children's lives. They will no longer be able to walk to the bus stop with out me, which is going to be a big alterations seeing how my daughter starts high school next year and her bus comes at 7 am while my other two are still sleeping at that time because their bus doesn't come until 8:30. I will have to wake my younger ones up earlier so we can all go to the bus stop with my oldest. Yuck!
There will be many other alterations. I'm choosing not to think about them too much. It isn't necessary yet.
Do you want to know something really weird? When I pray about this trial, I don't ask God for the jury to find him mentally ill so that he'll be locked away longer. I just pray that God's will be done. I'm afraid that what God wants might be different than what I want. I know all too well that sometimes God's plans don't always agree with our plans. 
So, when I pray, I simply tell God that I trust Him and I know that no matter what happens...I'll be ok. Right?


April 28, 2010

Whose wondering how I am doing today?

Well...I can honestly say that I am doing well. So well, in fact, that my husband said, "This is the best I've seen you on this day since we've been together," and we've been together for almost 15 years.

Of course, it has been on my mind all day but in a much different way than it has been in the past. Usually I mope around on April 28th feeling very sorry for myself, but today I do certainly not feel sorry for myself. In fact, I feel proud of what I have accomplished. I took great pain and turned it into something positive.

I didn't cry, mope, lie in bed with the covers over my head, eat excessively, or any of the usual indignities.

Although, I did feel a need to remind my husband that sex would definitely be off the agenda for the evening and he wasn't allowed to even think about it. I just couldn't imagine doing "that" on this day.

I'm not going to let that get me down though. I still view today as a victory. This is the first time since 1990 that April 28th hasn't been a day of mourning for me.

Here's to tomorrow!

D I S G R U N T L E D S T A T E of S H O C K

I am in a disgruntled state of shock!

I've been receiving a lot of phone calls lately from different 

government officials about my unique situation. Apparently, 

they are preparing for Mr. Smith's civil confinement trial that 

is scheduled to take place in the middle of May 2010. A 

psychiatrist has evaluated him and has deemed him to have a 

mental illness that causes him to be a sexual offender. He has 

been moved to a mental health facility near Utica, NY so he can 

start his treatment for his mental illness. The trial in May will 

be where the final decision is made by the NY Supreme Court 

about whether or not he does indeed have a mental illness. If 

they agree that he does have a mental illness that causes him to 

be a sexual offender then 1 of 2 things could happen. 

1. They could decide that, although he has a mental illness, he is 

safe to live in the public as long as he is supervised by parole. 

He might even be made to wear a GPS ankle bracelet but that is 

a pretty slim chance. Who will pay for it? 

2. They could decide that he is too dangerous to live amongst 

the public and be sent back to the mental health facility for 

further treatment.

These are the only two options that are ok with me. The third 

option is, the Judge / Jury doesn't agree with the earlier 

psychiatrist and they think he does NOT have a mental illness, 

which is totally probable. I was told that he has always received 

a "clean bill of health" for mental illness while in prison so why 

would they change it now?

3. They disagree and declare he does NOT have a mental illness 

that causes him to be a sexual offender. Then, he walks free. 

Well, almost. He still has to register as a violent sex offender, 


W R O N G ! ! ! 

Since he was convicted in 1991, he does not fall under Megan's 

Law.  Megan's Law is named after seven-year-old Megan Kanka, 

a New Jersey girl who was raped and killed by a known child 

molester who had moved across the street from the family without 

their knowledge. In the wake of the tragedy, the Kankas sought to 

have local communities warned about sex offenders in the area. 

All states now have a form of Megan's Law. 

There are three levels of sex offenders under Megan's Law. 

Level 1means the court has determined there is a low risk that 

the offender will commit another sex crime.

Level 2 means the court has determined there to be a moderate 

risk of the offender committing another sex crime.

Level 3 means the court has determined there to be a high risk 

for the offender to committ another sex crime.

If a level 2 or a level 3 sex offender moves into your 

neighborhood, you will be notified, but if a level 1 offender 

moves into your neighborhood you won't be. If you want 

information about a level 1 offender, you have to go down to 

your local police station and request it. As required by law, the 

DCJS, Division of Criminal Justice System, can only provide 

information on level 2 and level 3 offenders on their website.

Since Mr. Smith was convicted before Megan's Law was passed 

he can only be made to register as a level 1 sex offender. That 

means that he could move in right next door to me and I would 

never know it. No one would. Even if I did know it, I could do 

nothing about it. There will be no restraining order against him.

I feel violated all over again!



I just heard some disturbing but rather promising news.

It's about *Mr. Smith.

 As some of you know, and if you don't then shame on you for not reading my other blog, (you know,

the one that's no longer available on line cuz now it's a published book that you have to pay for? Ya

snooze ya lose!) Mr. Smith is the man who abducted and raped me back in 1991.

It happened in the miserable beautiful state of New York. Apparently NY has this new law called

The Civil Confinement Law which enables the state to hold sex offenders longer than their sentence

 if they are deemed to have a mental health defect.

There are only a handful of sex offenders that the state considers dangerous enough to attempt to

have committed and Mr. Smith happens to be one of the lucky few.

As a matter of fact, he happens to be the first.

Therefore, this trial is going to be a big deal in my small corner of NY. A very big deal. They are not

sure when his trial will start. All they know is that it will happen before April 28, 2011.

 If he is determined to have a mental disorder then he could be sent to a mental hospital for criminals

or, at the very least, he could be ordered to where one of those GPS anklets so his where-abouts will

be monitored. 

They don't know if the papers will release my name. They don't know if I will have to testify. They

don't know much of anything because they've never seen a trial like this before. But they do know it

will definitely make the papers and the news. It will probably reach the national news media as well.

So you can see why this is disturbing and rather promising news for me.

Hey, maybe I'll start book #2.


Alright...enough about my hormonal monthly case of PMS sudden case of depression. 

I don't know where that came from. 

You will be happy to know that I am back to my normal singing show tunes self. 

Now let's get back to my random poetry from a gazillion years ago that I found buried in the 

bottom of my keep-sake box. Although, I must warn's pretty depressing in itself. Man, I 

needed some therapy when I was a teenager.


Dark and deep
Make me weep
A silent tear 
Slides down my cheek

Young yet old
Help me mold
Our distance far
Our love so bold

Love and fear
I shed a tear
The message here
Isn't clear

Dark and deep
Make me weep
On a lonely pillow
Lies my cheek



No poetry today. Today I feel like sharing my present day feelings.

I am finding it hard to write words of encouragement when I am feeling so discouraged myself. 

I fall asleep every night praying to God for wisdom and courage to overcome my circumstances.

I, once again, look outwardly "normal" but inside I feel completely alone, scared, unloved, pathetic, ridiculous...

It is difficult to be excited about my published book when at the same time I feel defeated in my everyday life.

Poor, poor pitiful me!




Here's another poem from when I was 15. I was such a strange 

and tragic child. Hahahahahahahaha!!!!!


It's what I want and it's what I run from. They say I am crazy. I say I am not. I see myself when I look at confusion.

Everyone wants it their way. I want it mine. Why must everything compute with everyone? They see me as different. I say, "Go to ...!"

How do you feel when you have no feelings? My tears are held back by disbelief and pride. My worst fears are now my fantasies.

I ask myself how my life can make a difference. The knowledge of my loneliness is too much for me. Am I the only one who truly understands?

I give in without a word to the influence of the future. Why is life based on decision? This is goodbye to this heartless world.


R E A L I T Y 1989

Here's another poem of mine that I found in my Keep-Sake Box. It's rather depressing...


LOVE...nothing but a deceitful emotion. reason to cause a commotion.

EXPERIENCE...your best feature in all.

INSANITY...caught on the wrong  side of the wall.

INNOCENCE...remembrance of your past.

PRUDE...afraid to move too fast.

HATRED...the confusion between love.

HESITANT...needs a little shove.

PAIN...time catching up to you.

SHAME...the guilt of what you do.

FRIENDSHIP...your imagination playing games.

POPULARITY...being familiar with certain names.

LIFE...what we have but cannot hold.

FATE...what is there but can't be controlled.

DEATH...the last stage of our worthless souls.

REMEMBRANCE...the only thin that we have to hold.



Heere Coomees The Pooeettrryy!!

Ok, heeeeerrreeee comes the poooeettrryy!!!

I've decided to start with a poem I wrote when I was 14. I think it tells a lot about me, in its own twisted

way. Try not to laugh too hard...or do because I sure thought I was funny.

Once a Muffy Always a Muffy

Sitting surrounded by fads

A tradition passed down by Dads

Is that you? How

Hey, you look just like her.

And her, and her. Hey what the Hell?

I'll give you $50 bucks if you sell

That shirt, those shoes. Hey put on this.

Can't you hear me? I don't like being dissed.

Oh, I get it. I'm not your friend.

Just 'cuz I don't follow trends.

Well, that's alright. That's ok.

Hell, I don't need you anyway.

But you need me. Where's your style?

I'd like to contemplate awhile.

And you should too. Plan your future

Or do you want to be a miniature

Alysso Milano all your life?

Here you go. Take this knife

And rip and tear. Hey, tear right there.

Now lets do something with that hair.

But in a way you still look muffy.

What's your name? It's probably Buffy.

Whatever! Let's go. I'll buy you style.

No, not at Bloomingdale's. Why I'll...

Nevermind, let's catch a beat.

What? Your favorite beat is *FYC?

Alright! That's it! It's over Buffy.

I've learned...once a muffy always a muffy.


*Fine Young Canniballs


Keep-Sake Box

I was doing a little spring cleaning the other day and I came 

across my "keep-sake box". I have had this box since I was 13 

years old. It gets bigger and bigger as the years pass.

It started out as a shoebox and now it is a big, plastic bin.

I keep everything that I hold sacred in this box, such 

high school diploma, certificates earned, old pictures,old love 

letters, my children's portraits and accomplishments, and old 


I am so glad I have this box. There is nothing funnier than going 

through old love letters and diaries from when you were a 


Although, I must say, re-reading my diaries has only 

strengthened my belief that every parent should secretly read 

their child's diary. Well, maybe not every parent but definitely 

those whose children exhibit suspicious behavior.

Which I am sure I did, although I don't think my mother ever 

read my diary or I am sure there would have been some sort of 

intervention. Ha ha ha!

I found some poems I wrote and I decided to share them with 

you. Some poetry I cannot bear to share because it is so 

embarrassingly ♫ H I L A R I O U S ♫

They're so ridiculous that I had a hard time reading them 

myself. I remember letting my friends read them and I 

remember thinking that they were good.

I would rip them up and throw them away but where's the fun 

in that?!?


Shopping With My Daughter


How is everyone feeling on this fine New England day?

I'm just sitting here, getting caffeinated and trying to get excited about taking my 14 year old daughter
shopping for, what she says is a must-have Easter dress.

Normally, you would think that shopping with your 14 year old daughter for clothes would be fun. A
chance for sharing and bonding. Well, you must not have a 14 year old daughter if you think that!

14 year old girls are at that stage in their lives when they still ask their mothers to go shopping with them,
but don't be fooled. They may invite you but it's only because they need you to drive them places and give
them money.

Once you arrive at the destination, you are expected to follow silently and try not to embarrass them in
front of the occassional classmate they may encounter.

If you are foolish enough to offer your opinion on an article of clothing, they immediatley hear the exact
opposite of what you just said. For example,

Mom,"Oh, that dress is pretty! You would look really nice in that one."

Daughter, "Eew! Yeah right." (extensive eye rolling)

Mom, "But it looks just like that last one you tried on."

Daughter, "It does not! (hmph) The other dress was pink!" (more eye rolling)

Sometimes I like to mess with her and test this theory of reverse pshycology. If I see her checking out a
dress I might say, "I love that one! Do they have it in my size?" She will immediately "drop it like it's hot!"

I know that's not nice but, sometimes I just can't help myself.

Usually, I reserve this practice for when the dress is too costly or worse...too provacotive.

I wonder if my mother tested this theory


Intended Harm 

My book is officially done.
So go check it out!


Mixed Emotions

Today I am filled with mixed emotions.
My book is finally available for purchase online. The webpage isn't complete yet. The cover art isn't showing up and either are the page excerpts from my book, but they're working on it. I'm sure it will look superb by this evening. I'm not worried.
So, anyway...I should be excited about that...and I am. I'm very excited. But my joy is being overpowered by my anger at my son's elementary school's principal.
See, my son came home on Friday with a large goose egg on the back of his head. Thanks to this kid that rides his bus. My son claimed that this kid spit on him, put him in a headlock and then pushed him so his head hit the window. My son told me he did nothing to provoke the kid. Well, that's not true. My son said that the seat was crowded and because of that he accidentally hit the kid in the stomach when the bus went over a bump. He claims to have immediately appologized afterwards.
Now, I'm not stupid. I remember being a kid. I was positive that this rendition of the story wasn't entirely accurate. I know that my son has a tendency to get on people's nerves. He's smart. Quite a bit smarter than most of his classmates and he likes to let them know it, usually by correctting them. He's sarcastic as well. A result from being a product of me and my husband. Because of this, I was pretty sure that my son did something to provoke this kid. My son is also a good foot shorter than every other boy in his grade. He is in 3rd grade but he is the size of a kindergartener and kids like to tease him about it. This particluar kid happens to be one of those kids who like to pick on my son's size. My son has come home on more than one occasion, crying because this kid was bullying him on the bus. I've called the school at least 3 times to complain about the bullying.
Taking all of this into consideration, I came to the conclusion that, I didnt care if my son DID provoked this kid by being annoyingly sarcastic, he had no right to spit on him and smack his head against the window.
So, I called the school. I was sure that they would help me. With all the school's talk of anti-bullying and what-not, I was sure they would be just as appaulled as I was. After all, my son is an exemplary student. He never gets into trouble. And they were appaulled. They told me they knew exactly the student to whom I was referring to. They would review the videotape from the bus and get to the bottom of this come Monday morning.
Monday I received a call from the principal. He was waiting for the videotape. In the meanwhile, he would interview both children and any witnesses he could find. Today I heard back from the principal. He told me that strangely enough, the videotape stops recording a few minutes before the fight started. Because of that, they have to rely on the statements of the children. They heard from my son, the bully, and the bully's friend. According to the bully and his friend, my son started the fight by spitting on the bully first. Yeah right! My son, who is the size of a kindergarten student, spit on a large 4th grader who is a known bully. I'm so sure. But since it's 2 against 1 they are taking the bully's side and guess what?!?
My son received in-school suspension!


The Final Countdown

The countdown begins. I was told this morning to expect my book to be available for purchase within 24 hours. I'm really excited. I'm also really ticked off.
I'm upset because, come to find out, once my book was polished and ready for sale, it's only 82 pages long. 
8 2  P A G E S ! ! !
Now I'm going over and over all the things I could have said to make my book longer. There's so many things I left out because I felt they were irrelevant somehow. I don't know. Overall, I'm extremely proud of my book. I feel I have accomplished what I set out to do. So, it shouldn't matter how many pages it is. My goal was to portray my personal struggle throughout the years, but there are other stories to tell. 
I could have written about Mr. Smith's background a little more. I could have written about the dangers I will face when he is released. I touched on that a little but...hey, maybe there will be a second book. Hopefully, the second book won't have any real trauma to it. Just my fears and such.



I hid your funnel behind my heart. 
Now you'll never find it. 
Aren't I smart?

If you need me I'll be in the kitchen
Pouring poison down the drain...
Finally sane.


My book is in the process of becoming published as we speak. I am excited but nervous. Soon there will be no turning back. My personal history will be out there for the world to judge. That's pretty scary.
I am very proud of my writing. It seems like a well written me. But is it? Will everyone else find my words interesting?
I guess we'll see.


The Winter of my Discontent

Things are tough for me right now. 

I've learned a few things lately that I find say the least...but I can't share them with you right now. 

It's nothing pertaining to *Mr. Smith so you're not missing out on any updates there. 

Maybe someday I'll be able to tell you but until then...It'll be between me and Southern Dreamer.

I'm feeling alone and betrayed and disgusted and terrified all at the same time.

It's not a good feeling.

I hope I snap out of it soon.


Their Crazy Mother

Today, as I stood with my nose pressed firmly against the window, heart pounding in my chest from anxiety, watching my 9 year old walk the 50 or so yards to the bus stop all by himself, I was forced once again to remember my fear of people and their dark sides. I hated letting him go to the bus stop all by himself but he's been begging me since the beginning of the year. I try not to let my crazy phobias interfere too much in my children's lives, but they do...I can't help it. 

They're my children. 

My most prized possessions.

I went out and got my son a cell phone so we can communicate with each other while he's at the bus stop. 

Crazy...I know.

The deal is he can walk to bus stop by himself as long as he texts me when he gets there. Then he has to text me once he gets on the bus as well. God forbid he should forget to text me. It could get ugly. Yesterday he forgot to text me so I continuously called his phone until he picked up. I must have called 6 times before he remembered his crazy mother and the whole time visions of strangers taking my baby boy danced through my head. I tell you I almost marched down to the bus stop in my robe and slippers. I probably would have if he hadn't finally picked up. 

Worse case scenarios and what I would do tactics.

I almost called the bus garage. 

If I didn't hear from him I could call the school and have them verify that he was there.

Tell this normal behavior for every mother or is it because of my past?  

♥ Diana


Helping Others

When I was 17 years old I was abducted by a stranger.

I survived...obviously, but it was difficult.

Today, I'm a well-adjusted adult with a desire to help others who have been through a similar situation, but let me tell took me a long time to get to "well-adjusted".

When it first happened to me all I wanted to do was to pretend it didn't happen. Of course, I couldn't pretend with myself but to everybody else I acted like it never happened. That didn't change the way people treated me though.

Inside I was angry at everybody.

I was angry at my friends for not being more comforting and supportive but at the same time I was angry with them when they tried to talk about what happened to me.

I was screaming inside because I wanted to talk about it but I didn't want to bring my pain to the surface. I wasn't ready to deal with it.

To avoid dealing with my pain I suppressed it with drugs and alcohol.

 I DO NOT recommend this method!

Yes, it worked...temporarily. I was so messed up that it was easy to push my pain to the back of my mind and pretend it never happened but, guess what? I made a lot of horrible choices while I was messed up. Choices that I will have to live with for the rest of my life.

16 years passed before I finally opened up and started talking about what had happened and I can honestly say I wish I had done it sooner. I know it sounds clique but I feel so much better now. When I told my story, people opened up to me and told me their story. It helped to hear their pain. It helped to know that someone else knew what I was going through.

Now all I want to do is help others.

♥ Diana