I have a love hate relationship with my phone!

My brother surprised me with a phone for my birthday/Christmas. I was amazed. My brother and I had not exchanged gifts in years. He does this on occasion. He will avoid buying a gift for me and then randomly buy me something that I can't afford. Last time it was a Wii. I actually like it better that way. Instead of buying crap that I forget about year after year every once and a while he'll gift me with something that I don't forget. That is why I love my phone. Why I hate it? The stupid thing doesn't answer all that time. I believe the whole point to the phone is to be able to talk to someone else, but sometimes my phone decides, “Hey Pam, you talk too much and it is time to listen!”. It also has a tendency to repeat it's self. Sometimes I will get a text and it will come through 3-4 maybe even 5-6 times. I couldn't tell if maybe my ex was being a jerk when she sent, “Sorry I didn't respond I was out with my girlfriend.” a half a dozen times or my phone was rubbing in the fact that I am single. Perhaps a bit of column a and b?

I joined Public mobile a while ago under their pioneer program. I was told as long as I was with public mobile I would get unlimited Canadian long distance for life as long as public mobile operated. I have suffered through years of craptacular phones just because they are the cheapest place going. NOW they tell me that we have to buy a new phone. I just GOT this new piece of crap! Oh and they won't honour my long distance obligation but they are going to give me a credit for 160 bucks AFTER I upgrade my phone or bring in an unlocked one. Wait. Hang on, what about the lifetime long distance????? They still are the cheapest place going. So my love hate relationship with my phone will end soon. But hey they told me I can still use it as an Epad. A tiny, small memory Epad with a tiny small memory.

Imagine life according to Judas

Imagine life according to Judas

It has been said that Judas was Jesus favourite disciple. The story of how Jesus chose Judas has been obliterated in the modern day bible. In recent history the gospel according to Judas has been discovered. I would love to get my hands on a copy!

Jesus said in Luke 22:21:

“But the hand of him who is going to betray me is with mine on the table.”

Imagine the panic of the disciples knowing that they were eating with one who was going to betray him! The next day Judas leads the soldiers whom arrest Jesus. He greets him with a kiss described in Greek as : kataphilein, which means to kiss firmly, intensely, passionately, tenderly or warmly. Was this a kiss of a man meant to betray Jesus? And why would Jesus say, “Friend do what you are here to do?” It seems odd, that Jesus knowing full well that Judas meant to hand him over for crucifixion, would call him friend when in the night before Jesus said in Mathew 26: 24 “The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born."

So the we edited the bible and wrote Judas out except to vilify him. We make him out to be a evil man who crucified our Lord forgetting all along that Jesus was meant to be the sacrifice to God for our sins. The ultimate sacrifice who's blood would cover the sinful nature of humans. But what were the word that Jesus said?

Matthew 10:33: "But whoever denies Me before men, I will also deny him before My Father who is in heaven.”

WAIT a second! Didn't Peter deny Jesus not once but thrice?

Matthew 26:70: “But he denied it before them all, saying, "I do not know what you are talking about.”

So who was it that really betrayed Jesus? Was it Judas or Peter? Just a thought to ponder.

That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

That statement is not necessarily accurate. I mean illness does make the body physically weak, it does not give you strength. Even emotionally things which tear our soul and leaves us with emotional scars fails to make our minds stronger, it leads to mental health problems. But for writers like myself pain is fuel. I like to savour the pain, smell the bouquet, swish it around in my mouth per se. What scent is this now? This pain is a full bodied scent of tears peppered with a smattering of heartbreak that is deliciously complicated. Once uncorked and the palate is cleansed, this pain has a veritable plethora of emotions. In it you will find a silky mixture of grief, sorrow, regret, discouragement with the bold earthy kick of hope to finish it off. It's not just pain that spurs my soul but the pleasures in life as well, albeit they seem to be sparsely spread out, this makes them sweeter This is. life. It is a mixture of sorrow and grief, joys and love and sometimes they are all interchangeable.

Okay enough of the artistic crap. So much like Sisyphus rolling his rock shy of the precipice, I am bound to my computer. Forever creating and never finishing. Sometimes it does have it's benefits to be shackled relentlessly to my computer. As I have stated before I created another blog under a fictitious email and pseudonym, here under the cover of anonymity I can let out what I like to refer to as evil Pam. Here I can blow off steam rant and rave like a lunatic and use it as a tool like mental floss. I also have found the benefit of exploring and avenue of writing I am not accustom too. I can if I please use expletives as punctuation. I have found it a useful tool. Because I am here tied to my monstrosity of a computer held together with duct tape I might as well use it to the best of my ability.

Also I have been creeping the world of you tube. My wonderful friend has a vlog which I follow and I have been admiring her bravery. We are working on a project together. It should be entertaining to say the least as anyone who could eavesdrop on our conversation would probably admit. I am no Ellen, but when her and I speak on the phone, no matter how terrible the day is, no matter how bad it gets we just about die laughing. I also want to publicly announce how brave I believe she is for showing the world the struggles that people with mental illnesses have to endure. You can follow her at: https://www.youtube.com/user/suggarskullz It seems a terrible tragedy that we live in separate provinces. But my friend my heart is hugging yours and my love to you as always. Keep fighting.

Following your dreams

Following your dreams

I have given up following my dreams. Yes you heard that right. I've given up. Done Finished. Thrown in the towel. Waved the white flag. Done following for good. This is not do to my depression quiet the opposite. This comes from the realization that following something anything gives it the opportunity to dictate your path. Following something doesn't mean you are going to catch it either.

Clotho may have spun my life, Atropos my decide when it ends, but Lachesis she can be swayed. My life although woven in the tapestry of others is my own is unique unto it's self. I will not chase my dreams, I will hunt them down. I will feel them within my grasp. I was Fated with MS, but my destiny is still my own.

I may not control my fate, but I control my destiny.

(see I told you I'd still keep up with this blog and my other one :D)

Don't Follow Your Dreams...... Chase Them!
 

Life in the Shwa

Life in the Shwa

So I admit it. I call Oshawa my home. I wasn't born here but I was raised here and have made it my home. When I moved here from the big city of Toronto I was just a small child and viewed Oshawa through a child’s eyes. Now that I am an adult I see it with more clarity. Just 2 years ago crime was down in Oshawa. But recently Oshawa has been hitting the news in a negative way such as these articles:

http://globalnews.ca/video/1290245/oshawa-kids-told-to-go-kill_urself-by-anonymous-instagram-account

http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/new-study-picks-the-best-canadian-cities-for-women-1.2619867

I think it's time that citizens of Oshawa took a stand and instead of referring to it as the “dirty Shwa” I think we should show the wonderful parts that make up Oshawa. So I'm starting a new project. This is my Oshawa. I will be recording pictures I've taken around the city to show that Oshawa is a wonderful place to live. I think all citizens of Oshawa have an obligation to make things better!

Looking for something

 Looking for something

The more I blog, the more I want to create another one. One that I can rant on and say what is really on my mind. There are lots of topics I have to post about that simply just aren't acceptable for this medium. So I'm in a hunt for a secondary blog, where I can join the ranks of anonymous individuals and say things that I want with out feeling guilty. If you have any suggestions for sites I'd be happy to hear them.

Don't worry, I won't leave you alone here. I will always have a latest MuSing for you!

And now for something completely different

And now for something completely different

I suppose as a writer (an unrecognized one as of yet) it is my job to view things from many angles. I try and see things from peoples perspective even if it is at a polar opposite of mine. Being a little more than slightly empathic it is fairly easy for me. Cursed/blessed with an over active imagination I often wonder why people do things and search for the deeper meaning in things. More and more I see people as two dimensional and three dimensional. The two dimensional individuals exist with length and width but have no depth. There is no deeper reasoning to them, they simply exist not caring about the third dimension at all. They are the superficial people in this world who care more about the status quo, the appearance of doing well, and the monetary gain. More and more I hear people speak about relationships and what they get out of them what the other person can do for them. They are more concerned with the income level and what type of car their potential mate drives or how they look on the arm of their potential mate. They devalue a person strictly based on things in this life that once you are gone have no value. I, statistically, am of less value to society because I make less money and am on a fix income. Because I can not contribute as much financially to society as a whole because I have a disease called Multiple Sclerosis. Society forgets that once I had a promising career, that I have 3 years of college on the dean's list and Graduated all 3 Programs on the Presidents honour roll. They forget that I have worked 2 and 3 jobs at a time just to support myself and my family. More over they forget I have a brain. For society it's easy to forget that I made the choice to have a career that I knew wouldn't be lucrative even though I was more then capable of obtaining the education do to so. As a whole society we place less value on things that should be of more value to us. Children are our future we cry out, but we pay those people who mind our children minimum wage. Minimum wage in other words is as little money as legally po

ssible a business can pay you. In Ontario minimum wage has been increased to 11 dollars an hour. Which is about 22,000 dollars a year or roughly 1760 dollars a month. If you are on the Ontario Disability Support Program or ODSP you get a whopping: $1,086. A What does this say about our society? How a society treats those who are vulnerable says a lot about the society it's self. Should someone, who no fault of his or her own looses the capacity to have a daily job, be forced to live below the poverty line? Should someone who is responsible for looking after our greatest asset as a country (children) be forced to live below the poverty line? Why do we put more value on a stock broker than a child and youth worker or on a banker than a social worker? The Canadian government is cutting pensions and services to our veterans, they are breaking a pledge that we swore to up hold. Why do we value a local Municipal Parliament Member more than our soldiers? A single person who works suddenly looses his/her job. If they are self employed or classified under the self employed section (tow truck drivers, cab drivers etc.) they get a whopping $626 from Ontario Works (welfare). This is supposed to cover food, rent, transportation and phone (ya try getting a job if they can't call you because you can't afford to pay for the phone because you are too busy trying not to starve to death)? A single Mom of two kids $1,194 a couple with 1 kid $1,207. Lord help them if they need to buy diapers. Welfare is not supposed to be a long term solution, but looking at the figures how are they ever supposed to survive and get on their feet with the pittance they are given? I spent many years as a front line worker and activist in working with the homeless and disadvantaged. I went to school for this, paid off my student loans and even volunteered my spare time when I wasn't working in the field. I often told people that I worked with human garbage and they nodded in agreement. What they failed to realize was I meant that I worked with people that society had thrown away because they were of no use to them. I found that this sector of the population was more three dimensional than the rest of society. They had hopes and dreams, values and morals but to society as a whole they were valueless because they were unable to contribute financially. The man with the doctorate who suffered from mental illness who could no longer work because of mental illness, the well educated woman who spoke four languages because she too suffered from a mental illness, and the woman who had an educational background the same as mine who was forced to sell her body because she lost her job and the competition for so few jobs was too great, these people were three dimensional. They have stories. They have depth. Some of the people are gone now, but their story lives on through me. The conversations that I held with them still lives on after their death. Long after the two dimensional peoples beauty fades or their shiny things loose their sparkle I will remember these people and their stories. Although I have less value to society as a whole because my tax bracket is lower than it once was, I have something more of value than all the riches in the world. I can look at myself in the mirror and know that I have made this world (or at least my corner) of it a better place. That no matter how poor I get, I always strive to help people who are less fortunate than I am. And I suppose Sensei that is why I am awesome today.

Lesbian Dating the sequel

Lesbian Dating the sequel 

I've always known I was a little bit different. People always used to say that I march to the beat of my own drum. I'm weird in a good way. I'm unique. My friend convinced me to go back on line and give it another kick at the can. It's spring and and I figured that girls would want to get out and do stuff like go for a walk or something. I've been absent in the online dating world for about a month and I truly think spring fever has struck. As I am wading through the sea of online profiles I find more and more they are coming in a category of two things: Casual Sex or U haul lesbians. Either sort I'm not inclined to go out with. I comprehend that people have basic needs and wants, but am I so out of touch with reality that this has become the ONLY thing that they want. What happened to dating? My kingdom for a girl who wants to get to know me first as a person. Then you have the opposite end of the scale, the girls who latch on and believe that they have met their life long mates after a few dates. I'm not sure about the rest of the world, but when I tell someone I love them, it means something. It means that I have created a bond with you that I would be deeply wounded if I lost. I mean, anyone I have ever told I love you to I still do. I mean, I wouldn't enter in a relationship with them, but when you truly love someone that bond is a permanent thing and although the relationship changes over time, the bond still exists. Perhaps I am just old school.

Can anyone tell me what mostly monogamous is? I mean is it monogamous until you don't want to be anymore? Throw me a bone!

Injury is always a great impetus for change

Injury is always a great impetus for change

I'd like to blame MS for the entirety of my clumsiness, but that simply isn't the case. I've always been a klutz and MS, well it has just amplified that for me. Recently in my Karate class I was requested to work on my front rolls. Usually I roll pretty well, but this day my brain decided that I should break down every movement and try and control my body. This doesn't work. My body and my mind are always in conflict with each other, which is why Mushin (no mind in Japanese) is really important to me. The desired result was a front roll that saved my head from injury. The actual result of that varied. I ended up doing a shoulder plant on my right side. My mind had decided to at least save my face. Hey if all else fails I still have to look pretty. My legs just kinda flopped down instead of having one tucked like I should have in readiness to roll the other way. BUT I didn't swear. It hurt a lot and ended up with me spending 6 hours in the hospital getting X- Rays. If you are not a martial artist here is the deal.... Doctors HATE martial arts injuries. Sure you can hurt yourself running around chasing a ball and they don’t bat and eye, tell them you got hurt practising martial arts and they look at you like you just grew a third head. Shouldn’t I be able to magically heal myself with my chi and why am I looking for sympathy when I’m learning how to kill people? You could be a sniper in the military trained for one shot one kill and you are aromatically a hero, learn how to defend yourself and your loved ones and suddenly you are the scum of the earth wasting the doctors valuable time. (No offence to my friends in green you know I love you all!) When the doctor asked me how I injured myself I explained that I fell, purposely skirting the issue of what I was doing. He followed it up with, how did I end up falling did I trip? I guess he wanted to ascertain if I had a head injury or not so I clarified. “I was doing front rolls on a padded mat and landed wrong.....in Karate class.” The doctor just simply said “oh okay, let me check the x-rays” He was surprised that with the amount of pain I was in that my collar bone/shoulder was not broken. Just a sprain. He ordered me a sling and sent me on my merry way with a prescription of pain killers and anti-inflammatory drugs. Go figure no lollipop.

The next class I attended I had my arm in a sling. The unfortunate part to this is that my good arm was injured, so I was forced to throw techniques with my bad arm. It turns out that this is a blessing because it is allowing me to work on my weaker area's.

My life has been like my injury, when something happens I am forced into using a skill set that is weaker. Nothing changes in life until it absolutely has to. There is always a straw that broke the camel's back. Change isn't a bad thing, it makes you use things you never thought you could. It also forces you into a sink or swim situation. You change because you have to change. With all the changes to myself I have made in the last year and all the struggles I have over come I felt the age old need to get a tattoo to remind myself that I am stronger than I ever give myself credit for. Unfortunately no cheap tattoo is a good tattoo and I will just have to save up. This body may be broken at times but it is mine and one of the ways I claim it from MS is Tattoo's. My history is written across my body for my own sake. That pain of getting a tattoo changes my present to past as soon as the initial pain goes away. It is a cathartic experience and one I am anxious to repeat as soon as possible.

Today I am awesome for not swearing in the dojo!

Took a Walk down the isle with my wife...

Took a Walk down the isle with my wife....

My life is surrounded by the ridiculously random and bizarre. To give a bit of a back ground, I have a very dear and close friend (more like family) whom I have affectionately deemed my "wife". Ya I have a weird and wonderful set of interpersonal relationships that I wouldn't change for the world! (I will have problems explaining to my future girlfriend, but if she is worthy it she will understand!)  I have mentioned before that weird stuff seems to follow me around. People tend to think I'm exaggerating when I rattle off the strange stuff that has happened to me. Perhaps this is because I'm howling laughing at the time I am retelling it! My "wife" was soon to find out how true this is.

We were shopping in a major construction store that rhymes with schmoes..... anyhow... one of the sales reps had over heard her comment that every time she passes this tool box her husband wanted it. He assumed that it was he that she was talking to instead of me. He came out of the isle with a smile on his face, he was a friendly older gentleman. My “wife's” husband was in the restroom at the time and I was struggling with a cart with a sticky wheel... okay we are blaming the wheel and not my driving skills! My head was down at the time and the perky sales associate says, “Hey fella she's working you pretty hard eh?” Now I've stated before that I'm pretty butch, but this particular day I was wearing a low cut tank top and a zip up hooded sweater over top that was not zipped. I figured that the man saw the short hair and assumed I was male the cart was large and I was at an odd angle pushing it. I feel bad for the person in these circumstances I don't get mad, it's a mistake. So I turned to him and said, “Yes she is!” Standing facing him so he could get a view of my undoubtedly female features. Okay at this point I should probably tell you that I'm fairly well endowed for a girl. I mean I'm somewhere in between crippling back ache and boy she's busty. To say at that moment I had a little bit of cleavage showing would be like saying the grand canyon is just a crack. I figured that he would notice and apologize or something. What he did next shocked the hell out of me. He said, “Well once you are done all that hard work I bet you will get lots of hugs and kisses.” I looked over to my “wife” and she nods and says, “Ya!” I said, “That would be nice!” and we continued about 4 or five isles down until both of us ran out of air and were forced to breathe. Then were were forced to exhale and what came out was gales of laughter in epic and monumental proportions. I couldn't look her in the face. She was kinda flabbergasted that this incident really happened to us. I had to walk away because 1) I was laughing so hard I couldn't breath and I was close to “getting stuck laughing” (See emotional Incontinence and MS) 2) I was fairly certain that if I didn't stop laughing I was going to leave a trail of pee down the isle and out the door and I didn't have any spare pants. 3) My “wife” was laughing equally as hard as I was and I didn't want her to dribble either! She just couldn't stop laughing every time we looked at each other and probably every time she spied my chest that was bobbing up and down so obviously female. (it's not like I have a deep voice either! Castrato perhaps?) 4) I didn't want to end up rolling on the floor laughing in the lumber isle.
My “wife” and I were laughing so hard we couldn't even communicate with her husband what had happened which was even funnier. It looses something in the story, but I will never forget the look on her face, her big brown eyes getting ever so wider and the eyebrow that shot up on one side questioning me did she really just hear that?(insert Scooby Doo noise here) Perhaps the man sensed the closeness that we share. Perhaps he was more liberal than he appeared. Perhaps he needed a refill on his glasses. Regardless of anything and all laughing aside, I would have been proud to have her as my wife and I am honoured and proud she is my “wife”. Although if she reads this and gets me a ring from the store that rhymes with schmoes I may have to laugh even harder.



Today I am awesome because I am surrounded with people who love me and show me every day in many different ways that they do.

Work in progress

A work in progress:

If you haven't caught it before, I am a work in progress. This blog is called MuSings of a wounded spirit that is now healing, because I am just that... A wounded spirit that is healing. As a counsellor it was hard for me to accept that I was suffering greatly from depression. I had known for years that I suffered from agoraphobia and was actively participating in modifying my behaviour with different cognitive-behavioural techniques. My faulty thinking caused the abnormal behaviour that my body was reacting to. Panic attacks have got to be one of the worst feelings, but also I suffered from a mild form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I disliked not being in control of my environment therefore in order to overcome my the panic attacks caused by stress I would obsess over tiny things like is the damn door locked. Yup I pulled it exactly 3 times..... then I had to walk back and pull it 3 more to double check. I was pretty quiet with my routine. No one knew. Eventually I could get away with endless mental checklists in my brain. There was a routine in everything I did. It still comes out in my daily behaviour like listening for the click of my daughters seat belt before I drive away..... and then asking her just before we leave the parking lot if she is buckled up. I figure it is okay to obsess about things like that. I still pull my house door knob 5 times to double check if it's really locked. As for other places. I make sure that someone else locks it so I don't have to check. It's these little tricks that make me able to function in society. It took me for ever to learn how to drive a car because the world is so big and I am so small. My nav system became my friend and allowed me the freedom to travel to places I would have never dreamed of going. Sometimes I feel as if I am a sheep herder when I am in an unfamiliar place. I must maintain a line of site with my loved ones, just in case one of them may wonder off. I also went to these distant places knowing that this is what normal people do. My girlfriend at the time laughed because I was white knuckled driving all the way. She didn't understand it was not the traffic that I was worried about, but the road that I had never travelled with all it's new bumps and ridges and what if the tire blew I didn't know where all the safe spots were.

You might think this a strange way to live, but to me it is normal. I obsess over things and fear plays a dark role in my life. But, with all the quirks and darkness comes passion. I can't understand why people are so dispassionate in life. I love to watch people in their element, where they shine and become beautiful. I see beauty in odd things and wonder why other people can't see them too. I often wonder what robs them of this passion and why they feel they must rob others of passion. I don't fit in with normal society. I may say something or do something and people may take it the wrong way, but the truth of the matter is....I would rather wound myself than intentionally hurt another living being. And then I think... Sure I have to check the door multiple times, I've never been able to finish a meal at a restaurant with out feeling like I have to run outside for air because I'm trapped and the thought of driving in new area's scares the hell outta me, but I'd rather live with those quirks than be of the mindset that it's okay to hurt people.

May favourite spoken word poem so far here.

I don't see much wrong in his thinking.

Expanding your limits

Expanding your limits

My family and I have decided to go camping. We have picked out sites and they went out and bought some new equipment. I'm fairly pumped except for one small, minute detail. I'm deathly afraid of bears. Yup. Spiders and Bears, except spiders can't eat you in one gulp. I'm short and overweight and I can't run. I'm bringing weapons. I don't subscribe to the don't bother them and they won't bother you theory. I'm more of a what can go wrong will go wrong. My dojo “wife” has suggested bear repellent. Admission time. I once accidentally pepper sprayed myself once. It wasn't pleasant. It was only dog repellent though. I can see the scenario. An angry bear charges me like crazy and I boldly thrust out my pepper spray accidentally aiming it towards my face. I pull the trigger and am blinded with pain and gasping for air. The bear pauses for a moment pandering why his prey has suddenly gone into convulsions and spiced herself. Bear gnaws happily on my arm grateful that I have just seasoned myself. I actually asked if I was bait. Hey I'd happily give my life for my family. I know I'm the slowest runner they will live. I'm just not truly convinced that this is a great idea. I know I'm supposed to be butch, but I have embraced my inner princess and have decided to be the butch princess. I'm good with that. Bears..... I'm going to expand my limit.

So i quit smoking

So I quit smoking

Yup you heard that right. So today I'm a little outta sorts. After another restless night of nightmares and just completely weird and f'd up dreams I'm also a touch tired. Being tired makes me grumpy. It's a vicious circle. Solved by a long and tasty cigarette... crap.... okay I'm doing okay, filthy habit, can't afford it, can't train as hard, cancer sucks and so forth. So I'm a little scattered today, I admit it. Lets get on with the show. Today is a good day to rant.

So my neighbours are pot heads. Really I don't have anything against pot heads. Some of my close friends smoke pot or otherwise ingest it. I'd also be hypocritical and a liar if I stated I had never indulged. The paranoid thoughts and the overeating I can do with out. Hell I'm wacky enough without drugs or alcohol. Regardless I really have nothing against marijuana. I think it should be legalized and taxed Lord knows we could use the money in our government. What does make me angry, I mean truly scathing, is that first thing in the morning when I am trying to enjoy a morning coffee and hustle my child out the door I have to smell their wake and bake sessions. It's bad enough that I've had to inform them that they, for the love of all things holy, need to shut their windows when they are feeling amorous. I swear they follow me around the house and insist on doing it in the room adjacent to me. I'm single and gay, I don't wanna hear that. Sometimes I don't know if I should be jealous or applaud. It's something I can live with though. The stink of weed first thing in the morning before the sun even rises is a little much to bare. Wonder if any of my military friends can procure me a couple of gas masks? Really all I'm asking is for a little respect. Just a bit. I'm not demanding. But the urge to throat punch someone is pretty high this morning and I really don't need to have my perfectly clean criminal record tainted. So please go smoke it in the back yard or in your basement or something. Some where I don't have to gag on the smell first thing in the morning. It's safer for us all!

I'm still here!

I'm NOT DEAD

Okay so I kinda fell of the Earth for a little bit. I know I know you missed me right? I've been busy. I spent a week with families kids and need a few days to recuperate. Then I had to testify in court. No I have not been charged, the other person was and I was a witness. I can't speak much about the case considering it's still going on and there is a publication ban. It wasn't so bad speaking with the crown, but the defense grilled me for over two hours. It was probably one of the most arduous things I've ever had to endure in my life. My mantra was he is only doing his job, this is not really a personal attack. But my back was already guarded because my sexual orientation had already been brought up. I hope I portrayed a look of calm demeanor, but in this day and age with whom I choose to have romantic relationships with is really kinda irrelevant isn't it? I managed to keep my cool, but something really REALLY bothered me. Just about the time he said “Well, he apologized didn't he?” I was glad that it was his ending question because shortly after I left the court house I lost my composure. Crying alone in my SUV is not the highlight of my life. The last person who assaulted me apologized too. Does that somehow make it okay? I mean hell doesn't I'm sorry just cover anything now? And how about the other things that he didn't apologize for. In fact I'd like an apology, some admission you did me wrong and are doing me wrong by forcing me into a situation where I have had to re-live some pretty shitty situations. It wasn't this assault that really bothered me it was the other ones I've gone through that are much worse. So I've spent a few restless nights full of night mares and flash backs. Yay. But on the bright note, I've spent some time with my bodhrán (Pronounced Bow Ron) and managed to be able to make some pretty decent noises out of it. Be still my Irish heart. So here is a clip of me cranking one out. Enjoy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_J0SRm0DbM