I'm Not Sorry!

So last nights wine fest got me thinking, why do I feel so guilty? And for the sake of sweet Jesus, is it a coincidence that just yesterday I changed my song to Buckcherry? I am not sorry!I haven't done anything wrong! Lately. Ok, nothing horrendously, disasterously wrong. And if I had, aren't we all entitled to the occassional delicacy better known as sin? Why do I have the feeling I've used mine all up and must be forever punished now in exchange? God doesn't work like that. And neither do I. I'm a christian. I pride myself in my ability to forgive. To forget, blindly even, on most occasions. I dish out kind words of encouragement to anyone I meet on the street with a spoon too heavy for most to carry. And I do so with a smile. You'd think I could spare a little for myself. I'm relatively sure I have plenty a critics out there without adding my name to the list. And if I've hurt you, well you probably hurt me first. Looks like were even. So, instead of listing all thirty billion things I've been carrying for years on my back like a hypocritical martyr and burning the list symbolically (if not originally) I write this. Good riddance guilt! So long heavy load and accomplissing hunch back. Farewell unspoken apologies. I am so not sorry!

Advice to a friend

You can borrow my kid if itll make you feel more accomplished. LOL. But seriously girl, sometimes when you finally get the life you always longed for, you realize its not everything you imagined. Everyday is full of blessings (some more disguised than others) and anti blessings. You just have to decide what part of today youre gonna pay attention to. No guy...as I am still learning (slowly) can make your problems go away and "complete you" as the song goes. Its a lie, theyve force fed it to us since birth, we have to kick the shit out of that weasly fucker before it can spawn little evil lie babies to make the cycle even more deadly! I too want the whole soccer mom thing. But I dont believe its gonna fall into my lap like a pile of cinnimon scented peaches and cream. And if MR Wonderful never comes calling, I'll get to travel alone and with my son, eat tubs of ice cream watching chick flicks, and hog the entire bed. Imagine never having to clean up after a man. No more pubes and piss on the toilet. No more beard shavings all over the sink. And if some sweet, slightly nerdy guy comes along who makes me laugh (even if he cant sweep my fat ass off my feet) than maybe Ill let him hang around for awhile. If we get to my dream of being married (happily) for 50 years, or if we don't...I'll live and die along with the rest of ya.