Just another day on the Sinwagon

I’m a pro and knowing when shit is getting bad, disintegrating, or just going in a direction I don’t want it to go..I’m a pro at giving advice about these things as well, but for the life of me, I’m fucking retarded as shit about taking my own advice.

Found out today that Stephen has a new girlfriend, proclaiming her the love of his life. For the last two years, he’s made promises to me, for the last two years he’s done nothing but talk a big game, making promises, offering me exactly what I wanted to hear, and never delivering. I’ve seen him go through two girlfriends and a multitude of women in the last two years, and every time something stops working for him, he comes back.

Well, not anymore.

I’m not going to rant, or rave, I’m not going to cry or throw anything. I’m just going to take my own advice, and walk the fuck away.

Bye Stephen, I’d like to say that knowing you has improved my life somehow, but now I realize that you were just a pipe dream. Self indulgent and hypocritical. When it doesn’t work out this time. Don’t call. I’m done caring and catering to your ego.

Fayne

I wouldn’t say that my life has been long, but I have lived a long life.  Today is my 27^th birthday, and I don’t feel any older; at least not physically.  But I’ve found myself reflecting on my life and the decisions that I’ve made which have put me in the place I am today.

And right now, instead of focusing on my mother, or my biological family, I choose to focus on my past relationships and what I learned from each of them. 

So, in chronological order…we have….

Bobby – My son’s father.  I met Bobby on the internet when I was 16 years old through a Gorean Roleplay chat that my sister Rachel introduced me to.  He was brooding and dark and mysterious and he had this way of capturing me.  I loved him, and for 2 years, most of it was in silence. The day I told him, was the day that he told me goodbye. I’ve never had my heart broken by one person so many times in my life as I have with Bobby.

This would go on for several years…and though I love him still, I’ve learned that love evolves and changes.

Marni – I miss her sometimes, and I fell in love with her completely by accident.  I kissed her by accident, I wanted her by accident, I touched her and felt her and tasted her…by accident.  She held me afloat in dark waters, shielded me from pain and hurt, and loved me.  I lost her. It was my own fault. And when I found her again, nothing that we were remained.  She’d turned what we had into something ugly, and dirty and she was embarrassed to be loved by me.  I haven’t spoken with Marni since January of 2002.

I still love you.

Michael – My first Master. I was his first slave.  An 18 year old girl that he would tote on his arm as if she were his shiny new penny, and though inside somewhere I knew it was shallow, I loved him.  I wanted to be the slave he needed, but he wanted less than I could give, and more than I had in me. He wanted parts of me that I had yet to discover, but he didn’t want to work to uncover any of them. I left him too, but his wife ruined it, not me.

Byron – Father figure in some ways, frightened me to the point of trembling with a cool look from those chocolate brown eyes.  Where Michael was fun and young, Byron was always in control, had this amazing way of making me feel beautiful even as he kept me low at his feet.  No one in my entire life ever held me as I wept, like Byron.  Married and happy now, living a lifestyle that I cannot touch anymore.

I will always admire and love you, My Teacher…my one true Master.

Chris – You made me feel dark and devious, giddy and warm, sensual and everything a woman wanted to feel, in just…one kiss.  Desperate to taste you and feel you, never getting all of it, and just teased.  I remember the night we swapped underwear in the car, drunk and on the way back to my apartment after a party.  Mine were so much cuter than yours.  Who wears plain white boxers anyway? Heh. 

It hurts that you don’t remember the things you made me feel, but I don’t know if I ever really told you. Perhaps I just expected you to know.

John – Insecure, mean….I loved you, because you wouldn’t love me back.  I loved you, because I was so used to being abused, and you gave that back to me, that I thought it was all I deserved. I kept doing it wrong, it was all my fault…all my fault until I realized…it wasn’t.  I said goodbye to you twice. And though I loved you then, I have nothing left in my heart for you now.

I wish you peace.

Leland – My Daughter’s Father. I never loved you, you were just someone to pre-occupy my time. Oh, I thought I did…but I know now that it wasn’t love, but desperation that kept me close to you.  I have nothing left to say.  Everyone makes mistakes, thank god I have a beautiful daughter to benefit from that one.

Dustin – You made me feel like I could fly, beautiful and secretive and wonderful.  It was a terrible situation I should have never allowed my self to get into…all…three…times.  I won’t lie…sex with you…was a religious experience, but it wasn’t worth the rest of the shit that came with it, not even close.  You weren’t a very good kisser.

Jarod – I love you still, in my own way, thought you’re a complete, self absorbed, loathing bastard at times.  I know your heart, and I wish you’d stop making yourself miserable.  I kept our secret from your sister for 2 years and I told her last summer.  She wasn’t as mad as I thought she would be.  You were wrong.  I could have loved you openly and I never got that chance.

Stephen – I love you now, in my own way I suppose.  We’ve spent the last two years teasing each other, but your teasing was far more cruel than mine.  I’m everything in life that you want and you need, but I’m too much reality and you’re to unwilling to give up the life of bachelor-hood.  It’s a shame, really…we’ll just keep pretending until one of us is married. It can’t go one forever.

Peter – You confused me, I thought you cared more than you did, and at times I thought you cared less than you do.  Things have changed, you’ve changed, your life and your needs from when we first became close.  But I miss your arms around me, and the brush of your whiskers at the back of my neck when we sleep.  I miss laughing and teasing, and I miss the looks…

I wish you weren’t such a flake.

Grant – I never loved you, but I could see myself falling for you the moment your eyes caught mine.  And your kiss, will be the one that burns in my mind, and lights my way through the dark for years to come.  That is the kiss, I will compare every kiss to for the rest of my life.

That’s it….and I look back and I realize that my life has been full of emotional highs and plummeting lows.  I’ve loved, and I’ve been loved, and life has been good far more than I allowed myself to accept.  Were they fairytales? No.  Were they perfect? Nothing ever is.  But for a reflection on the past…

Not too bad….

Fayne

So is this what you plan on doing, just blowing me off like this.  I would like for you to tell me what did I do to you????????????????????????????.  Thank you for the Birthday card and Mother’s day card.  I really look forward to them every year from you.  Oh, thats right, I am the last one on your list.  Well I will tell you that you will regret this one of these days.  The next move is yours.

Your Mother

Dear Egg Donor,

Yes, this is exactly what I plan on doing, just blowing you off.  Isn’t it just driving your crazy? Like a pin prick in your skin, poking you over and over and over again?  I’m laughing at your predictability; I want you to know that.  You have no idea what to do with yourself when someone won’t fight with you, do you? You have no idea how to handle life, when someone isn’t giving you a chance to yell at them, do you?

Oh, I never thought having this much control over you could be so fun, look what I’ve been missing out on my entire life!  You spent the better half of my childhood blowing me off; I guess turnabout is fair fucking play, isn’t it?  Don’t like the cold shoulder? Good, I hope it hurts; in fact I’m glad it hurts.  I don’t feel remorse for removing myself from the situation. I don’t feel sad because I don’t have a mother who I never had in the first place. I don’t feel guilty because you’re feeling left out of my life. Sorry, guess I’m just a cold hearted bitch, or maybe I’m just tired of your fucking mouth and your bullshit?

Maybe I’m just tired of your double-fucking-standards and your pity me, pathetic, fuck you tactics to try and win something back that never existed in the first place.  Let’s be frank with each other.  You don’t like me, I don’t like you, my children don’t like you and the only reason you’re emailing me is to try and regain your foothold of control in the relationship.  Well guess what?  I’ve taken away all of your control, and you can email me as many times as you want, and I’ll just continue to ignore them, again…and again…and again.  And perhaps one day you’ll realize and accept that I just don’t need your drama, your hate and your anger as a part of my and my children’s lives.  In fact, not only do I not need it, but I refuse to allow it in.

Your poison, your whole bloodline is poison, no wonder my dad got out when he could, you’re fucking crazy the lot of you.  I’ve –just- started getting myself under control, -just- started settling out my life and turning it into what I want it to be and I will be damned if you’re going to come back in with your disapproving frown and your 8^th grade education and tell me that I’m not doing it your way.  Obviously, your way was the wrong way.  Take a nice long look around at yourself, your life and your husband. You’re miserable, your life is unhappy, your only child doesn’t speak to you and you have no contact with your grandchildren.

You’re worthless because you choose to be, and I don’t associate with worthless, unintelligent trailer trash.  So I guess that rules you and the rest of those white trash bastards right out, doesn’t it?

Do you lie in bed and cry at night?  Good.

Do you look at my pictures and become sad? Good.

Does it hurt like a knife in your heart, knowing that you mean so little to me that I can discard you like a piece of trash? Good.

Now you’re getting a fucking taste of what you fucking did to me.

Have a nice life,

Fayne

PS.  Your husband smokes pot behind your back. Second shelf of the pump house on the left hand side as you walk in. If you’d waddle your fat ass away from the couch long enough to look around you might actually see it.

Well, I’ve decided that it’s time to re-shape myself.  For those of you who don’t know, which I don’t is anyone, I’ve started taking Belly Dancing Lessons with Isis.  I love it. I love the dancing, the drums call to me, the music calls to me. I love moving and dancing, it just feels like it’s always been a part of my soul.

Now, despite the fact that I’m a big girl, I’m pretty good at the dancing, and honestly, I love it.  However, the issue that I’m having is simple. My self image is just to the point that I can’t hide it from myself anymore.  I’m too big for my own comfort.  In fact, I’ve always been too big for my own comfort.  I find myself making excuses for my size; my thyroid is bad (which I’ve just started medication for), I had two children in two years (I was fat before I had the kids), I’m big boned (which is true, but there are a lot of healthily sized big boned people out there).  But the biggest for me, no pun intended, is “It runs in my family”.  Which, it does.  However, I don’t want to be part of that family anymore.

I don’t want to be related to them, I don’t want to look like them, I don’t want to sound, or feel or behave like any of them.  I’ve come to terms with that fact that I have an eating disorder.  I can go days and days without barely eating a thing, and when I do…it doesn’t stay down.  It doesn’t stay down, because I’ve got my head wrapped so tightly around the idea that I’m just going to get bigger and bigger that my stomach turns and I’m running for the bathroom to pray to the porcelain goddess.  I remember my mom doing that, eating dinner, a moderate amount, and then disappearing in the bathroom.  I could hear her vomiting, and there was always proof even after the initial flush.  I would knock on the door, worried and ask “Mom, are you all right?” and in a strangled voice, she’d respond..”Yeah, I’m fine.”

I knew what she was doing, though we never talked about it. 

I don’t want this to be a memory for my kids.  Something has to give, I have to change. I have to start thinking about my future, my life, my body, my health, my family.  All of it.  I have to start being conscious of myself.  I know that part of this comes from not thinking that I’m worth the attention to myself, part of it comes from being lazy.

Well, not anymore.  I’m done.  I’m done being fat and unhealthy.  If I’m going to be a big girl, then so be it, but I’m going to be a healthy big girl from now on.  No more binge eating, no more vomiting, no more bad food decisions. And no more “Oh well, this is just the way I am..”.  No more being lonely.  Even in a room full of people (Like at Belly dance class), I can feel alone and the center of attention at all times.  I hate feeling like there’s a spot light on me. I’m so aware of every flat, every lump, every roll, every bit of fat…I’m done. 

I certainly can’t battle myself on this anymore.  My back is hurting, my knees are starting to ache, my shoulder hurts more often…I’m tired, excessively frustrated and I find that I’m fighting these bouts of depression.  I’m going to get healthy again.  I have no notions to be a size 6, but I’m at least going to get to a point to where I feel comfortable in a Belly Dancing outfit.  And considering the fact that I was comfortable with my body, completely, at a size sixteen, I think that a size 12 is a good goal to have.

So it starts today.  I’m currently in a 24 right now, top, bottom, all around. I want to be in a 12, which is half of my own size, by the time I leave for WA next year.  That means I have about 12 months to drop it.  That’s one pant size a month.  I can do this.  I am one of the most stubborn people I know, why can’t I be stubborn about losing this weight? 

I’m going to start looking at life, and food differently.  I’m going to start working on my self image to improve my own self esteem, to learn that I can be a person even if I’m heavy, and still move forward with my life. 

I’m done being angry at myself.

Miss Fayne

This is a response that was posted on the Star Telegram’s Crime Time Blog</a> concerning the Victoria Lindsay.

http://startelegram.typepad.com/crime_time/2008/04/teens-in-videot.html
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Giving these girls life in prison would be a crime in itself. By not letting them get an education and putting them in adult prison, socitey is just insuring they will become harden criminals. I have been in plenty of fights in my day, and I’ve won some and I’ve lost some. That’s just life. What has the world come to if you can’t even defend your name and reputation? I don’t feel sorry for the girl who got beat up, even though I’ve been in her shoes before. If you’re going to talk smack about people, be woman enough to stand up for yourself and FIGHT BACK! This girl probabily never got a woopin’ and had everything handed to her, that’s why she went home and cried to mommy untill she called the cops. When I came home all beat up when I was 13, my mom just told me not to pick fights with people bigger then me! That’s the country way, that’s the american way!

Posted by: TheGoodLife | April 11, 2008 at 05:27 PM
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All right, so…you have to know that I can’t keep my mouth shut, if you might not have figured that out by now.  And since this is my blog, I can be as filthy mouthed as I want to be.  I can have as many violent and anger fueled comments as I’d like.  Why?  Because this is where I get it all out, so I’m not spewing forth truck loads of anger and hate at all of the ignorant and inconsiderate assholes in the world.

I say the things you always wished you could….

So, on that note, allow me to respond to “The Good Life” they way I would initially have.

“Firstly, let me assure you, that if you’d gotten your ass beat by 6 people –after- being knocked unconscious and sustaining a head wound, you probably would have gone home crying to your mother as well.  Secondly, just because someone has a pacifist nature when it comes to physical violence, does not mean that they were given everything their whole lives.  My little sister would never hit another person, she’s not the least bit physically violent, and though being a pacifist has it’s benefits, obviously has its downfalls as well.  Some people just do not have it in themselves to be violent.

The nature of your attitude is atrocious, and fueled by nothing more than blatant ignorance and your obvious “ghetto” upbringing.  How do I know?  Let me tell you a story.

Less than a year ago I had the unfortunate experience of living at the Wyndham Point Apartments in Woodhaven, in DFW.  Yes, that’s right.  White girl with and education lived in Woodhaven.  And across the breezeway lived a woman with two children. An 8 year old little girl, and a 4 year old little boy.  Now the little boy was a handful, that was for sure, but kind and good natured.  In fact I don’t ever remember this child being cruel to anyone.  Now, below my apartment lived a woman with an 11 year old little girl, who as far as I could see, needed as ass whipping three times a day, just to remind her that she was only 11 years old and able to be subjected to discipline a the whim of the adults her in her life. 

Sometimes, children think they’re adults, and they believe it is within their right to make adult decisions, it’s our job as parents to provide our children with an environment where they can be …kids.

Well, the aforementioned little boy decided to go outside and play, there were a group of girl, including the one spoken of earlier, who happens to always be the ring leader.  A water mane had broke, and the kids were playing around the water.  The boy, being a boy, splashed the girls in jest, and in return, all 4 little girls threw the little boy, who was at least 4 years younger than all of them, to the ground and proceeded to kick him in the ribs, the face, the hips, the legs, the head…punching and hitting him, until he was able to get away and run home.

When his mother confronted the little girl’s mother, the woman’s response was thus: “If he can throw a lick, he can take a lick.”

Imagine the way my head began to spin off of my shoulders when the woman said this, knowing I have a four year old daughter in the house at the time of it all. 

This is the mentality we’re dealing with in the world, beat or be beaten. Never mind that the law that governs our society, should be the law that governs our homes.  Those young adults, who hurt Victoria Lindsay, they were not 8, 9, 10, 11 year old children.  One of them is 18 years old, a couple of them 16, 15, 14 being the youngest.  When I was fourteen years old, I knew that if I participated in a gang style beating, that my ass was going to jail.  That was that. 

I knew the laws, society lays them out pretty plainly, and complete disregard for another human being is not a good enough excuse to walk away from what they’ve done, unscathed, untouched, society telling them, by lack of action, that they are allowed to bully and threaten, to hit and beat on anyone they please, using their innocence and naivety as some kind of excuse because of their age?  No, absolutely not, under no circumstances should that be admissible as a form of defense against their treachery.

These children obviously need rehabilitation, and a little taste of their own medicine, of which can be found at a local Juvenile facility or even a Jail, hell as far as I’m concerned, take away their freedom and throw their mean little asses in prison.  But keep them off of the street.  We don’t need people like these teenagers running around, who have no regard for human life, whatsoever.  And I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen, those little girls are going to pick on the wrong person, with an older brother or sister, hell even a younger brother or sister, who isn’t going to take that shit lying down, and they’re going to find themselves in a world of pain.

That’s not how it should be, a person shouldn’t have to retaliate through violent means, they should be able to rely on the justice system, and the parental guidance of the young adults at fault, but unfortunately, people like “A Good Life” would never punish their child for committing such a crime.  They would reward their poor and horrific behavior, just as the lady who lived down stairs from be, rewarded her daughter for beating on a child half her size and age.  Who are you going to reward, when she shoots her mouth off to the wrong person.  When she picks on someone who isn’t going to take her shit?  What then?  What if she’s the last shove over the edge of a cliff of anger and retaliation with the next student, and that victim comes to School and pulls a Columbine?  Will you reward the person who finally stood up for themselves and put a bullet between your child’s eyes?  Because no matter how much your child may be able to defend themselves, fight back, pick on or be cruel to another person.  They don’t stand a chance against a gun with an angry, over the edge child who’s pulling the trigger.

What then?  Who’s going to take responsibility in this chain of violence? Who’s going to end it and how is going to be ended?  These are questions that should be asked, these are the questions we should be seeking answers for, solutions to. 

So until you can be part of the solution, and stop adding to the problem with your ignorance, shut the fuck up.

Miss “I’m so very delicate” Fayne

Personal Update…

Well, today will either make, or break my relationship ties with Bobby’s side of the family.  Who is Bobby, you ask?  Bobby is Jacksyn’s father, the first man I fell in love with, who I will never fall in love with again.  Maybe I’ll talk about Bobby another time, for now just know that it didn’t end well, any of the times in the 8 years we were together.

However, his mother and I have a special relationship.  For the last 6 years we have been building on each other over the phone, and in email, trying to create something we can last with.  Bobby’s current wife, despite the fact that I hate to admit it, has helped with our relationship some.  When Donna (Bobby’s mom) realized what he lost, in comparison to what he’d gained (Rochelle), she began to understand why I left to begin with, or at least became a little more clear on it.

So for the first time in 6 years I will see her today, and she will see the little girl she fell in love with (Vaiy), and the grandson she’s never met.  Her son’s oldest child and only boy. 

I’m excited, horrifically nervous and a little irritated.  Funds aren’t what I wanted them to be, and I don’t really know how to explain to her how broke we are, but I’m sure she won’t mind, she knows what it’s like to be a young parent with limited funds.  What I’m concerned about is her reaction to me, not the kids, to me.  Will she silently scrutinize the way I’ve raised them? How I look? The weight I’ve lost and gained? The length of my hair or my make up? 

Will she be able to be honest with me in my own home or will she lie to satiate my need for acceptance and to keep the visit as nice as possible? 

I want to ask her about Bobby, but more importantly, I want to ask her about herself. Take this time to really get to know her better than I ever thought I would.  I spent so long believing that she disliked me, that I’m elated at the fact that she wants to spend time with the children and I.  More importantly, she wants to spend time with the children.

In the face of everything that happened in WA between my egg donor and myself, it’s wonderful to know that someone aside from my God-Parents value my children as if they were biologically theirs (Vaiy). 

I guess more than anything, I want to experience that ‘sisterhood’ with her that mothers are supposed to have, like what Magnolia and I have, and Beck and I have.  I want to be her peer, not the same young, scared woman who she met in 2002.

Well, here’s to a really interesting night and an even more interesting weekend.

Wish me Luck,

Miss Fayne

Report: Teens in beating video of girl to be charged as adults

Reports out of Florida indicate that the teenagers accused in the videotaped attack on another girl will be charged as adults.

According to WFTV.com, Mercades Nichols, 17, Brittini Hardcastle, 17, and Britney Mayes, 17, face charges of felonious battery, false imprisonment and kidnapping in connection with the attack. Cara Murphy, 16, Kayla Hassell, 15, April Cooper, 14, Zachary Ashley, 17, and Stephen Schumaker, 18, face charges of felonious battery and false imprisonment.

Victoria Lindsay, 16, was beaten on March 30 by six girls after she arrived at a friend’s home, according to police.

Have any of you actually seen the video associated with this?  It’s horrifying.  Every inch of my body grew tense and all I could see myself doing was whipping some teenage ass.  It’s a good thing that it wasn’t my daughter they were beating on, because despite the fact that I’m a very law abiding person, I’d have no problem taking my 5’3” self over to their homes and whipping some asses.  I’ll take them all at once, or one at a time, doesn’t matter one way or the other.

I cannot believe that they were stupid enough to think they could post something like that and get away with it. I can’t believe that they would be so cruel to a single person and get so much enjoyment out of what they’ve done.  And you know what really pisses me off, what makes it worse?  The only reason they’re going to apologize, is because they got caught, not because they feel true remorse for what they’ve done.

It’s disgusting, immoral and flat out dishonorable behavior.  For a group of young adults who were so concerned about slander on the internet; about their good name being drug through the dirt, it’s amazes me that they never realized what was going to happen when they were caught.  Did they believe that the girl wasn’t going to say anything? Had they even considered the repercussions of their actions?  I can’t image that they did, and what makes it worse, the girl will continue to pay for their behavior for the rest of her life. So why shouldn’t they have to pay for their behavior as well?

25% of all teen suicides in the United States are due to bullying from classmates, ranging from the ages of 11 and up.  Could you imagine coming home to your 11 year old child hanging from your upstairs banister with a jump rope around their neck?  Either can I, but I have seen enough suicide in my life, experienced enough death by people close to me to know that it happens more often than it should.  These young adults are despicable, and more so for the fact that they knew what they were doing was wrong.

When you’re a child, you’re punished for striking out and hitting, in fact most kids receive spankings or some sort of corporal punishment when they inflict physical harm on others.  When I was 14 years old I was aware that fighting at school would get me suspended, in fact it did, despite the fact that I was defending myself.  I was informed by my then guardian that I was only to hit if I was defending myself, never to throw the first punch.  Now it’s no lie that I’m aggressive, but I never hit first, in fact I’ll even take a little abuse before my button is depressed too many times and I finally just lose my cool, but watching that young girl…she didn’t have a button, she took it, and took it, begged to leave, gestured her confusion with her hands in the air.  She surrendered so many times during her beating, waved that white flag and never once through out it was there a real reprieve.

They had a chance to show mercy and they refused.

How dare you?  How dare you take something as sacred as the power over another person and abuse them that way? 

The Goddess help my beautiful children if I ever find out they’ve done something so cruel to another person.  The Goddess help my loving son and my gentle daughter, because I will take them out back, and beat them until they bleed, and then I will hand them over to the proper authorities.  Because I will know, in my heart that I have taught them better than that, and the decision to hurt someone in such a way, over a few retarded comments on myspace.com is not worth nearly ending a person’s life.

But more so than that, Goddess help the poor little fuckers who ever lay their hands on my children, for when I’m done with my swift justice on them, I will locate their parents, and deliver my justice upon them as well.  There is no quicker way in this world to make an enemy of me, than to treat my children as if they are less that everything.  They may not be your everything, but they are mine, and you will respect that or you will pay. 

I pray for that little girl, I would love nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and protect her the way she deserves to be protected.  Love her and reassure her that the world is not as cruel everyday as those girls were to her.  But right now, she’s lying in a hospital, eyes blurred, ears fuzzy, concussions and swollen face, paying for speaking her mind.

Well, assholes, I’m speaking my mind now…what the fuck are you going to do to me?

Miss Fayne

PS.  The Star Telegram published my response to their Crime Blog, read it here :

http://startelegram.typepad.com/crime_time/2008/04/report-teen-gir.html

Busy Weekend…. « Sinwagon’s Weblog

So, I know this is my first post in a while, but this weekend brought on quite a busy time. 

I woke up late on Saturday morning, about 9:20 ish.  Being late, always pisses me off, ask anyone who knows me.  There’s never a more surly person in the world to deal with than a tired, pissed off Faynie. I don’t mean to be, yanno?  I don’t wake up with the intention of being the world’s biggest bitch, it just…happens.

And because being late wasn’t enough,  my 4 year old Fashion Lad decided in all of his infinite glory, that he had to use the bathroom.  Which is fine.  He’s been potty trained for over a year, hasn’t wet the bed in over a year, but being lazy runs on his father’s side of the family.  So instead of walking the 8 feet from this sister’s room to the bathroom, he decides to whip it out and piss on the fucking floor.

Can you believe this shit?  I about died.  And only because I was so angry, did I forgo the ass whipping that he should have gotten. I try very hard to make it a point not to spank or administer corporal discipline when I’m angry; I like to stay in control.

So I start going through the house, finding my pants, and shoes, pulling my hair back, putting a little make up on so I don’t scare my new Dancer Instructor, that sort of thing, only to discover that Beck and I have no idea where most of the Faire clothes were at.  See, we had a busy schedule planned, Dance Class, come home, pick up family go to Faire.  Well, after about 25 minutes of being a bitch to everyone in the house, a lot of yelling and raised voices, I decide its time to go.

I get to Belly Dancing class, first one of the beginner’s course and at first, I won’t lie, I was a little terrified.  Firstly, I’m the biggest girl in my class, but by far one of the cutest, and secondly, I don’t know a single person.  Anyone who knows me can attest that I do best when I have at least one person to lean on as a pillar of support when it comes to new activities.  But I have to say that it’s nice to have something that’s all my own, away from the family a little bit.  After a vigorous work out with Ms. Isis, I left for home in a much better mood.  Seemed as though I perspired out all of my negativity.  I even brought Beck an energy drink and some Smart Food as a way of apologizing. 

We decided after a strenuous search of clothing, that it was too late to go to Faire and that we’d just have to go Sunday, which was fine.  So instead, we decided to clean up the yard. Beckah mowed the front, I trimmed the hedges, and then I mowed the back while she cleaned up the clippings and played with the kids to keep them from getting under foot.  Later that day we decided that BBQ was a great idea for supper. 

The Landlords came over to get the rest of their stuff from the garage, as they bickered between themselves, and I called Magnolia that evening, invited her over for beer and BBQ.  It was nice, the kids were a little over excited, but they managed not to kill each other, which works for me.

At the end of the evening, Maggie and TT left for home, and we finally settled in.  The next morning came and we were up around 10 and started getting ready for fair.  It was nice to be able to just laze around for a while.  Unfortunately I seemed to have lost my Black Corset, much to my despair.

We went, we saw, we were bored.  I know it’s horrid, but firstly Faire just isn’t Faire without Maggie.  And Secondly, things just seemed…boring.  It’s hard having the kids there, and dealing with the heat and all of those layers and no booze, but…all the same, we usually found a way to have fun.  Not this time.  We stayed for about three hours and then took off for home. It just wasn’t our day. Not to mention we were seriously tired and sore from the day before, so that didn’t help either. 

Got home, did a little cleaning, put some stuff away and BBQ’d steaks, and made fried potatoes, Connor an I ate mashed sweet potatoes cause we rock.  The weekend was pretty busy, which I was grateful for.  But I still seem to be exhausted, for what it’s worth, all of this medication is kicking my ass, the cancer is kicking my ass, the long days are kicking my ass…I’m even having a hard time catching my second wind.

And to boot?  Bobby (Jacksyn’s Father)’s Mom is coming out to spend the weekend with the kids and I, in from GA.  I’m fluttering around, trying to make sure that everything’s perfect, which of course it’ll never be good enough for me, and she just wants to spend time with the kids.  It’s crazy.

B and I have decided not to do Faire this weekend, lack of funds and money doesn’t help.  So I think I’ll just go ahead and offer up my free tickets on Myspace and see if anyone wants them. No use in them going to waist since this is the last weekend they can be used.

Anyway, I’ll post more soon.

Love to you,

Miss Fayne