Saying Goodbye

I'm probably going to scrap this one...maybe recycle it... I never write here anymore.

I'm always writing letters, though.

Come visit, my little cupcakes.


Out of Necessity

I look over at him--hat backwards, mouth set in a tight, closed-lip grin, hunkered down behind the "windshield"-"so that my eyelashes don't flap in the wind", he says-- and I laugh out loud.
We were going to get ice.

I climbed over in the boat, and as my brother untied from the pier, the rope came loose.

I was floating away...

He looks at the rope hanging in his hand. "Well, Kimmie... You ready to learn how to drive a boat?" "Ready or not!" I yelled back.

When someone asked if he thought I could do it, he responded, "She's got no choice."

He talked--or rather hollered--me through it, I made it safely back to the pier.
It's been years since I've been on the lake, and I have the ghostly white legs to prove it, but as we passed by my great aunt's camp-the old rickety pier with the faded blue slide-I was taken back to all the summers we spent there.

I was young--I can't even venture to guess an age--and if I got into the water, I had on my ever-faithful floaties. This also meant than an adult had to be in the water with me...so when they tired of swimming, out I came, and I was put in charge of keeping the slide wet so the other kids didn't stick to it on the way down.

I'd set to work--filling a pitcher from the lake, climbing the slide, pouring the water down the slide, dismount and repeat.

I'm not sure what I was thinking the day that I climbed the slide, poured the water, and followed--belly side to the slide--down into the lake.  No floaties.

I'm pretty sure, however, that was the day I learned how to swim...at least enough to keep my head above water.
I flash on these memories in the seconds it takes for the boat to get far enough away that the pier blends into so many others-and I couldn't help but smile as I watched the lake fly by through wind-blown eyelashes.


Game Over

...It's been fun. Childish, yes...but so much fun.

It was a game to see if I could make you insane... I'm not sure that it was me, so much, or if you just are... either is a great possibility. It was funny because people "egged it on", and went along with it.  (You know how little kids are...when they are being mean to people...if they have other kids laughing and agreeing with them, they continue to do it... It's amazing how much stuff from childhood carries over throughout adulthood...)

I pretended to be your friend. I pretended to like you. I did it...partially out of respect for him (you know...my not being a bitch)...partially, because I knew you didn't like me...but somehow, you wouldn't be mean unless I was... I dunno. (All part of the fun & games.) Perhaps we are (scarily) more alike than it might first seem.

That was being two faced. Pretending.

Recently, I decided I wouldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't pretend anymore. So...I was real...-ish. However, the tension was so thick, you could have cut it with a knife. It made things difficult for everyone. So, I figured I could tone it down...just a little.

I don't like you. I never really have. I don't like what you are doing to my friend. He's not the same person...you know...when you're around and when you're not. I worry about him. That's my "mama cat syndrome".

However, it's not my place... if he says he's happy with things the way they are... then all that should matter is that he says he's happy. He's a good kid and I love him, so I suppose I have to respect that and all that it implies. I still don't like you.

Game over.

"Being nice to someone you
don't like is not being two-faced.
It's called being a grown up."


I have a song...

My cupcakes bring all the boys to the yard.
Damn right, they're better than yours.
I could teach you....but I'd have to charge.

*takes a bow*

I'd like to thank my cousin for "re-writing" that song for me... I dedicate it...to the girl who wants to be me. :)


Lurking in the shadows

I know you're out there. I can see you. You aren't very sneaky, child.

Ya know...I've never rarely made it a point to try and hide anything I put online. I try not to make it readily available to people that I don't want seeing it...but that's just a matter of not advertising it. If there is anything that is a secret, I tend to keep it off of the Internet. That's the only smart thing to do...right?

Granted...I do have a few blogs that are completely hidden...the only way you can get to them is if you have the URL...but those aren't secret...just...uh...sensitive... And I'm pretty sure there are only two people (possibly...most likely only one)...that have the links to those.

Anyway...It bother's me that people that I do not like are so interested in my life. Some people that I've made a point of taking out of my life...constantly put themselves in it... "behind the scenes". They read my blog or follow my twitter, and report what they find in either, to other people in my life. These "other" people could easily have access to these things, if they so wished...but they obviously aren't interested...until you bring it up...if even then.

I always suspected that certain people were following along in my nonsensical stories of life...and one day, I got a text from my ex asking me about something that he should have technically known nothing about. Not that it was a secret...just that he should have had no way of knowing about it. And still...he mentions things that I talk about in my blog or on twitter... Of course, at this point, I'm used to it...and it's no longer a surprise... I'm just confused.

Why are you trying so hard to be in my "business"?

Shit...that wasn't even really the point of this post...not technically...

There's someone else... who's checking my stuff religiously... and it was funny at first... but now it annoys me... to no end.  Yet, there's no way to stop it because they already have the link... and they are already, obviously, addicted to me.


I can't help it because I'm awesome, I guess...


On cowards

How can one use the phrase, "not the forever kind of love" and then go back?

I understand not wanting to hurt someone...and I understand hurting when someone you love is hurting...but if you can consciously say that you love them, but it's "not the forever kind of love", and not break things off, you are hurting someone...even if it's just you.

Don't get me wrong. I would rather hurt myself than be responsible for hurting someone else, but that's being a coward...and there are definitely times in my life when I've been the coward. As much as I would like to say otherwise, I will likely be a coward again.

It's almost always easier said than done. I can admit that too.

I dunno...I'm one of those girls that tends to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders...and I feel an insane amount of pain for the people I care about. Sometimes, I wish I could grab them by the shoulders and shake them until they get it...but that's not the way it works.

Life is too short to be a coward...and definitely too short to be unhappy.

Just live.

I almost fell...but instead...I was the coward 
and said the things I knew would stop me...
doesn't make me care any less.

"Random" Observation

This post serves no real purpose other than to get this out of my head...and direct your attention to an interesting blog.

Yesterday...or the day before...I came to the realization that friends with benefits only really works if you become friends after the benefits. If you are friends before...it gets all fucked up. At least, this has been my experience...and it's a shame that it took me more than once to figure that out.

This morning, I read an entry from the Naughty Mom on being "Just Friends". It kind of hit home...and I wanted to share it.

That's all, cupcakes.


Letters are easier


I've been writting letters a lot lately. They are quicker, to the point (and usually the cowards way out...).  I can write, in letters, what I don't have to balls to say to someone's face...and most of the time I know they read them. I'm usually quite passive agressive in my letters...of course, as we all know, I'm the queen of passive agressive. *insert eyeroll here*

I generally have no problem being inappropriate, either. It's my shit...if it bothers you, don't read it. It's that simple. However...some people choose to read and be offended, or get pissy...or hate me (rightfully so, in some cases)...and they continue to read it. Come on! Get a grip! Ignorance is bliss...or some shit like that.

This time, however, I can't bring myself to write the letters I want to write. I want to say something that puts everything into perspective, and makes all the answers clear and obvious...but I realize, from experience, that you can only help those that want to be helped. Until they make up their minds to do what needs to be done, for themselves and their well-being, they aren't going to do it. It is what it is, and that's all it is.

I still find myself a little heartbroken for you, though. I know how you feel. Some people have no problems being the asshole. Some people just can't do it and, instead, continue to be miserable...even though it's slowly killing them.

Sometimes, I think distance is the best thing. Distance and time...usually they will straighten a skewed perspective. If someone asks for space, and you love them as you say you do, the least you can do is give it to them. It's instinct, perhaps from childhood, that when we think something is going to be taken away from us, we cling to it even harder...never stopping to think of what the consequence might be.

It saddens me when I notice the difference in behavior...depending who is or is not around. I wonder if anyone ever saw that change in me. I was conscious of it, but I wonder how well I put on around others... Apparently, pretty good, judging by the shock on people's faces when they find out.

I dunno...today is a weird day, and I'm in a weird place...

This is why you shouldn't kiss me like that...

Cupcakes would probably make me feel better.



Today, when I went to pick up my lunch, I saw the pastor that married my ex and I. I've been trying to avoid him since I left because I didn't want to disappoint him...I dunno.

At this point, we have been separated for a few months shy of a year, and completely divorced since January. Chris even has a new girlfriend that he takes around town.

So...we kind of both assumed that by now, the pastor would know about us. If for no other reason than that this is a small town and people love to talk.

Him: Hey, girl!
Me: Hey, Mr. Larry.
Him: What you doin' with that ol' red headed boy?
Me: Uh...sir?
Him: What you doin' with that ol' red headed boy?
Me: *awkward pause & and nervous giggle* I'm not doing anything. See you later!

So...I sent Chris a message telling him what had just happened, and told him that I thought Mr. Larry already knew. Chris said that he thought he knew, too, because Mr. Larry had seen him and his girlfriend out somewhere one day. (Someone said the girlfriend reminded them of me...perhaps more than one person thinks that? Weird.)

I'm not sure why I have such a problem telling him that we aren't together anymore. Anyone else, if they ask, I'm just like, "We're divorced." or "He's not my husband anymore." or whatever...sometimes, I like to see the awkward look on their face. That's mean...I know.

Sometimes, I wonder if preachers feel like they have failed when someone they married gets divorced. Perhaps I don't want him to think it was his fault...

Who knows, cupcakes.


Bittersweet Victories

So...if you recall, I was trying to by a car last week...

This was my first time purchasing a car on my own. Researching, shopping, dealing, & signing. I knew I had a budget. I knew I had to stick to it. I found the car I was interested in, even though I never thought I had a shot in a million years. The way I figured it, however, was that it couldn't hurt anything to try (other than my feelings).

So, I laid awake every night for about a week, figuring and calculating trying to come up with what I could afford. Finally, I got in touch with a few dealerships, and some of them were quick to tell me I'd never get it. I would tell them, "Okay. Thank you for your time. I'll try somewhere else." And that would be that.

I made an appointment at Atwood Chevrolet. I went in, drove the car that had been keeping me up at night, and threw some numbers back and forth. When I left there, I was so confused, which I know is what they bank on. However, I stood my ground and didn't make a decision that day. I told them that I was planning on purchasing a car before the end of the month, but that I had someone else I was going to see the next day. (Apparently it's good to let them know you have options. Kinda puts the pressure on.)

Big mistake!

The second guy...wow...I'll let the letter I wrote him here explain that story.

Needless (I'm sure) to say, I had already made up my mind that I would not be purchasing from him. So I called back my contact at Atwood, gave her the scoop, and told her to see if she could do better. If she couldn't, I just would have to wait, re-group, and try again later. After all, it's not as if I need a new car...I just want one.

The next day, she told me the best she could do was $428 on the notes. I was not paying that much. I told her I appreciated everything, but that was too high. So she tried again. Came back right under $400. I told her that was still too high, that I would just resign my new car hunt, and figure something else out, but that I would definitely let her know when I got ready to try again.

She apologized, saying that if there was any way they could do any better on it, they would, definitely.

I let it ride the rest of the week, holding out hope that she would call me back. (but not much...)

Finally, on Monday, I sent her a message asking if she had sold my car. She told me that it was still waiting on me.  I informed her that they only needed to come down about $30 on the note. She, again told me that if they could, they would...but they just couldn't....and added that if I gave up only 2 cokes a day, it could be mine! (I don't even drink cokes...I told her as much.)  I told her, though, if it got to the end of the month, and they still hadn't sold it and wanted to come down, to let me know.

Tuesday morning, I got a message from her telling me if I could come up with just a little more to put down, they could get my notes to what I was wanting. I told her I had what I had, and that's what I had. So she was like, "Okay...well she's working on it, I'll let you know."

Miraculously, 2 days before the end of the month, they've managed to finagle things and pull some strings and get my notes right where I want them.

I'm, now (along with the bank...), the proud (so proud I can't stand myself) new owner of this:

This is not your grandmother's Cadi.

I think I might still be dreaming..

Leather interior with wood grain accents.

It's pretty much a spaceship.

If you're in the area, go to Atwood's Chevrolet!

You win some. You lose some. I won! I stuck to my guns, and got what I wanted! I'm so proud of myself just for not caving and trying to make it work with the higher notes, just because I wanted a new car.

This was a bittersweet victory, because I'm really going to miss my little G6...at first...

You were a good little car! Thank you for your service! *hugs*

Happiness & Cupcakes, my loves!


Age of Names

Is it just me, or are there certain names that are meant for old people and certain names meant for young people?

For example...I know a lady who's 85, and her name is Doris Lacy _____. Today, I was imagining that when she was younger, perhaps she went by "Lacy" because, to me, that sounds like a young name.  If that was, in fact, the case...at what point did she decide, "I'm too old for 'Lacy'. I think I'll start going by 'Doris'." She goes by "Doris", now, and I just don't think that "Doris" is a young person name.

Okay...and my name. Kimberly, Kim, Kimmie...all of those sound young...and I don't even have an older sounding name to switch too! Unless...I go by "Kay" when I get older...which...I guess would work...but at what point do I start using that?!

Am I insane? Why would I even give it that much thought?



Where you been?

Sometimes, you win. Sometimes, you lose.

I didn't get the car I was looking at. I'm rather bummed. I had managed to let myself get super psyched up about it. I was so close. They couldn't get my notes where I wanted them. I could have paid what they were putting me at, but...I simply didn't want to. Whereas it wouldn't cause a problem now, in the future, anything could happen, and I'd be screwed.

Oh well.

I have weird dreams. Sometimes, they're all over the place, don't make sense, full of mystery and faces that you can never see. Other times, they are cohesive, sensible, and seem like real life. I'll open my eyes, confused for a moment because I'm convinced, for a moment, that I was just somewhere else.

I have a couple of books on dream psychology, by Freud, on my Kindle. I've been looking at them a little (but honestly, I haven't had much time, even for reading.)

Some friends and I kind of discussed dreams and such a few weekends ago. A brother/sister duo said that they have both had dreams about stuff before, only to have it happen in real life later. When it does happen later, they experience that feeling of deja vu and then remember having the dream. That sounds like some psychic shit to me.

Deja vu...This is my theory. Deja vu is proof of reincarnation. Mhmm...What else could possibly explain the familiar feeling of being somewhere, doing something, that you know for a fact that you have never done? (At least in this life...)

I'm distracted. *sad face* I promised a cohesive post, and I have failed horribly. If this post isn't all over the place, I dunno what is... Ugh...

I'll try again...



Insert Lame Excuse Here.

So...hi...I'm coming back. I've actually started several cohesive posts, but...I got sidetracked. You see..I'm in the process of wheeling and dealing for a new-er car. I will know whether or not I'm getting it by the end of the day tomorrow. After that, I promise a worthwhile post.

I love you cuppy cakes, and I am still reading some!


Control Yo'self.

Psst...Hi. *waves*

It's Ash Wednesday. Now, I'm not a Cat-lick (well...all the time...), but one of my supervisors is. Today, we were discussing what he was going to give up for Lent. He said he thought he'd give up work. Forty days without work?! Hell yes! I'm in!

No...really...you can't give up work... You have to give up something you love. (Okay. So, perhaps some people could give up work. Not this girl.) For example...if you were Lorraine, you'd give up Zebra Cakes! (That'd be dreadful!)

As I stated previously, I'm not Catholic; however, Buddy decided we should all give up something for Lent. Catholic or not, to exercise our self-control.

Oy. (O.o)

Buddy gave up soft drinks. I guess he's just gonna drink the hard stuff for 40+ (The other girls are saying 47, supposedly they counted.) I can't give up soft drinks because I don't drink them as it is. Perhaps I should have given up Tequila... >.<

Tammy's giving up chocolate. I'm not sure this is technically fair because she's been cutting back anyway at the "suggestion" of her doctor. I would give up chocolate, but I'm not terribly addicted to the stuff. I mean...I like chocolate, but I can either take it or leave it. I need to go more broad spectrum.

I gave up sweets altogether. I need to do this, and the way I see it, if I make it the full 40(+?) days...I'm good to go. However...this means (dun dun dunnnnn!!!) cupcakes too. :( I love cupcakes, as you well know.  

All kinds. ;)

So, I've been trying to figure out a way around this. The way I see it, I can make cupcakes for other people, they just can't make them for me. Oddly enough, I'm totes okay with this. So...the world can be at peace. Heh!

When did I start saying "totes"?!

In other news:

There's a cupcake shop, somewhat near me, called Gigi's. There's this cupcake that looks just like one I saw in a dream a few days ago. No shit! It's called "Grasshopper". And it looks d-e-l-i-c-i-o-u-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s!!! Of course...I love chocolate and mint together. Apparently not a lot of people do? (Not sure what's wrong with these yahoos....)

As soon as Lent is over with, I'm going to get some of these! Cupcake road trip!!!! I wish I could order them and have them shipped here, but I can't. They don't ship out, as of yet. Booo...

I'm going car shopping...you know...to take my mind off of cupcakes.
I love you, little sprinkles!


Missing in Action

I haven't really been around much. I've also notice that my friend Stacia has been missing in action, as well. I hope she's doing okay.

Truthfully, I haven't been on the internet much lately, except for at work. I check my blog feeds every morning, so I'm still reading...just not writing. Also, I've recently become obsessed with the game Words with Friends, and so...I play it alot. It's like Scrabble. Super fun. Look me up if you're on there.

Username: kbamburg  ^.^

And! I got my new Kindle. I've been reading like crazy. I love it!

I want to write about something. But my mind is everywhere. I can't organize my thoughts long enough to make one cohesive post.

Bleh. I need to work on it.

Hopefully...cupcakes this weekend! ;)

P.S. My loves...I've been writing letters. Just random bits. Very little censorship. Quick, dirty, & fun! (You have been warned.)

Looove, Kimmie.



Around these parts (i.e. in my social circle) "cupcake" has become a euphamism...for oral sex. (We are just classy like that.)

A "new" guy in our circle sat in my lap this weekend and complimented me on my excellent cupcakes. I informed him that he had no idea how excellent my cupcakes were...and he informs me that he's looking right at them and they are awesome, (as he's looking down my shirt).

So... now..."cupcakes" is a euphamism for boobs...and is, apparently, my new nickname as this kid called me "Cupcakes" the remainder of the weekend.

By the way...my cupcakes are fabulous.

All of them.

Love and Cupcakes! ;)

Out of reach.

Why do I find myself attracted to people I can't have? I almost feel like it goes back to childhood...you know, that kid has an awesome toy, and you want it...but I'm not sure.

There's someone I'm so incredibly attracted to...more than just sexually. He's smart, funny, and talented. Don't get me wrong...there is sexual chemistry like "whoa". At the same time, though, we are so comfortable together. It's not awkward or strained. We can flirt, bicker, have intelligent conversations, or just sit in silence. We "mesh".

He has a girlfriend... I don't want to take him away from her. Seriously. I don't want him to leave her for me. I just can't stop thinking about him for days after I see him, and I fear I give myself away because I talk about him a lot.

I really like him...and I kinda hate it because I'm going to be that girl that sits back and does nothing about it. For all my laughing and joking...I'm not going to be a "homewrecker".

I just wish I wasn't so attracted to him.



Look here, Ladybug!

There are ladybugs taking over my room. I don't know what it is about this cold weather, but they will not go away! Hrmph. Granted...they aren't really ladybugs...just those orange-colored, polka-spotted bugs...Chinese something something beetles...or something...All the same...they are annoying me.

I've been having some relatively quiet weekends lately...which I suppose is the reason I haven't been around. Been soaking up books like they are going out of style. Love love love my Kindle app on my phone. Makes those slow days, when I'm filling in at other branches, not seem so bad.

I've slowly gotten back in touch with someone I had kind of "written off"...Things are still playful, but I'm more confident this time around. And I'm happy to have them, somewhat, back in my life. I'm hoping I'll get to see them soon and have a long over-due visit.

I did something I swore I wouldn't do...swore to myself and others. I'm participating in an art project. I'm kind of excited about it even though I was so scared I thought I might throw-up at first.  Because of the sensitive nature of this project, and the people that I know are reading this or have easy access to read it, should they choose, I'm probably not going to say much more about it...at least not yet. Baby steps, folks...remember. I'm still learning to live by my mantra, "Love life. Be brave."

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. This is the first time in 8 years that I've been single for this holiday. I think I'm okay with it. It's been years since I've gotten flowers or anything else to celebrate this holiday, anyway. Hell...last year, I got a snowball to the face.  I haven't thought about it much, but we'll see how it goes, I s'pose. I'm not going to play the broken-hearted girl. I'm happy. <3

I'm taking a short breather on cleaning up this rat's nest that is my room. I live in a small (maybe 10' x 12') room that I kind of share with my nephew's toys...and it takes no time for it to look like a nuclear disaster area...It's no secret that I'm not a very good housekeeper, anyhow...but it's gotten a bit ridiculous.

While I've been cleaning, I found my 30 Days of Truth list. So...this week, while I have the house to myself, I'm going to attempt to finish those (finally).

I guess I should cut this off because it's all over the place anyway...and there's more cleaning to be done!

Cupcakes & Ladybugs!


The end.

Well...it's official.

As of the 25th of January, I'm divorced.

It's kind of bittersweet...like chocolate.

Not-so-random thought...

Sometimes, we are so miserable that we search frantically for a reason to leave. When we fail to find one, we make one--faulting the other person--so that we still look like the "good guy".

"Sometimes I wish you cheated on me. Then leaving here would be so easy.--'Better Sorry than Safe'-Halestorm"

At some point, we have to man-(or woman-)up. We are responsible for our own happiness.
I, too, have been guilty of doing just that. However, I stepped up and took responsibility for my own happiness. It's time for some others to do the same.

Grow up. You have children to think about.

Cupcake for your thoughts?


Oh what a tangled web...

What on earth have I gotten myself into?!

Sit tight, y'all. I'm coming back!



Moving the fuck on...?

I think I'm doing considerably well...but sometimes...on shitty days like today...I miss my friend. So bad that it hurts. And I cry. And I hate myself.

...just a little...
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These boots were made for ridin'...

I have fallen...

My decent into "redneckery" all began...well...truthfully a few months back...but I got a nice shove Saturday morning when I went boot shopping with Moe & Cara. I wasn't going to buy any...I was just there for moral support and to try on for fun.

I found a pair of Ariat ProBaby's in my size, and tried one on. Limping around with one boot and one converse sneaker on, my sister tells me, "You can't really get a feel unless you put both on and walk in them." Thanks alot, Cara. Thank you... I put them on...and didn't take them off until it was time to take a shower.

And then I put them on with shorts. Haha!

I justify my purchase with: Everyone should own at least one pair of boots. & They were on sale! Never you mind the fact that I bought a pair of pink camo boots.

Riding boots. ;) "I'm not a cowgirl, but you know I know how to hold on and ride like the rodeo." Love me some Colt Ford!

So, of course...now that Moe & I had new boots, we decided we had to "go out with our boots on".  The original plan was to go eat at Fat Mama's and then go back to The Dock on Lake St. John. Then we decided to go to Bowie's instead of The Dock because Framing the Red was playing, and we know some of the guys in the band.

We loaded 7 people into my brother's truck and headed out...only to barely make it down the gravel road before he realized he didn't have his wallet....so back we go. Forty-five minutes later, I find the wallet underneath the pillows on his bed....I have no idea.

By the time we make it to Vidalia, we go through the McDonald's drive-thru and order 14 double cheese burgers and 3 drinks. While we were waiting on our food, they decided we'd go to a party out in Kingston (i.e. BFE). Moe & I were the only ones that had never been to a "Kingston Party" and they were building it way up. We were both very disappointed.

After everyone else was mildly drunk, we loaded up and went to "the club"....which is this backwoods bar out in the middle of fuh-reaking no where, Mississippi. Once there, we pretty much had to get our drink on the be able to tolerate it. My brother entertained us with karaoke most of the night, and we all danced to our little hearts' content...except JC...who took an intermission...at the bar. L-O-S-E-R!! (but at least he's a cute loser...I love his drunk eyes.)

About 2AM, we headed home, slaughtered a deer with Ray's truck, went back and got said deer, stopped at Dodge's for chicken & corndogs, and made it home about 3:30. At which time, Ray & JC had to gut our roadkill deer and coax the dog inside so she wouldn't drag it off before they could get it skinned and cleaned up.

"We do it different around here, that's right, but we sho' do it good and we do it all night."

I think we probably all finally passed out a little after 4, and nobody stirred until I woke up at around 11:30.

Crazy nights & lazy days with my little family.

I'm a pretty happy girl.



New Year. New Rules.

Remember how I said I was gearing up for this huge post about something that's been on my mind?

I was going to write about this 13+ year friendship that managed to dissolve into nothing after I left my husband and said friend decided to be more "loyal" to him. Perhaps loyal isn't the correct word...I dunno...They were friends. They're still friends. We were friends. Now we are not.

Please understand...I have no problems with them being friends. I might have at one time, but by the time I made up my mind that I was leaving, I had long since been over it. Even the day I left, I sent him to talk to her because he hadn't had anyone to talk to, and I didn't think that was fair. I really can be a nice girl.

I'm just going to say this much: If the tables were turned...I would have made an attempt to contact you and see how you were doing...before I knocked on the door and spent the night at your husband's house, a week after you moved out.

I'm just sayin'...

I've decided to take Tupac's advice and "Move the fuck on." Really, I already have...people just keep asking me about our friendship lately for some reason. Those people don't read this blog (that I know of), so addressing it here really has no point.

As I've stated before, this is the year for living...not in the past, but in the moment. I'm ready for new mistakes...I know I'll make them...chalk it up to life experience and "move the fuck on".

Honesty was my resolution...Let's see how many feelings I can step on.

Happy New Year! I hope all my sweet little sprinkles are ticking along quite nicely!