Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?

**We now return to our regularly scheduled programming**

I am the type of superstitious person who believes that this topic alone tempts fate. So, my best friend. A few people fall privilege to that title with me. For this one we shall go with the best friend I refer to as 'my wife'. Jackie and I have known each other since Kindergarten. We've always been close, but drifted for a while there. We've seen it all together. Birth, death, marriages, divorces.

We rarely fight. If anything they're small disagreements that are easily resolved and quickly forgotten. We have an agreement worked out between us. If, God forbid, we were ever actually in this position, where we've been seriously injured, had a health complication or otherwise that lands us in a hospital on life support - we pull the plug for each other. It's that type of friendship. If she had ever been in an accident and we had gotten into a fight - I'd do exactly what I'm supposed to. I'd know damn well it was forgiven and forgotten and then I'd kick the plug outta the wall.

Easy peasy :)

Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol

Chances are if you're reading this post, you read my post about a hero that has let me down as well. You can guess from that alone and the topic of this post where this is going.

I have never in my life ever done drugs. I've never smoked weed. I've never even considered any other recreational drug. I get sick off of prescription pain killers. I have never spent any lengthy amount of time around anyone who chose that as the lifestyle they wish to lead. I don't know if its more that I was raised by my Mother to know what drugs do to you and that the consequences aren't worth it, or if it was the fine example set by my father that have led me to never ever want to even consider it. My father was a drunk. A nasty one at that. He also had a very expensive drug problem. His rages were usually spurned by an equal conbination of both, but his worst was always after drugs. If you were raised in that house I assure you, you'd feel the same damn way. It's hard for me to have any respect for people who spend their days in a smoke induced haze because getting fucked up is more fun than having a job and being a functional member of society. Those people are usually the ones who are a drain on society. Not all of them, but many of them. It's simply not something that is an option for me. If it is for you - more power to you. Just don't expect me to support it or be around it.

I didn't get fully drunk until I was 19 years old. I had friends who had been drinking for years before that. In retrospect, and especially as a parent now, I wonder what the hell their parents thought they were up if they were drunk at 15. I spent that first night on the floor of my friends basement swearing up and down I'd never ever drink again if I didn't end up throwing up. Of course this wasn't the first or last time I'd drank myself into a stupor. I spent every single Wednesday for a few years there at the Junkyard drinking and dancing. I spent many weekends out and about. Hell, there was this one time a man named Jesus bought me drinks until I couldn't stand. True story. I've spent more time on my knees in front of a toilet than I have doing much more productive things on my knees. You do the math and take that as you will. I suppose I essentially did the typical early 20's thing and enjoyed the hell out of it. It all stopped when I was 26 and found out I was pregnant again. Game over, plain and simple. Now I have zero tolerance again. 2 drinks and it's game time. Shots and I'm essentially on the floor. I spent the end of my 30th birthday party sick as all hell. Worth it on occasion? You betcha.

But as the daughter of an alcoholic, I am now very careful about how much I drink and how often. They say that alcoholism is typically a genetic trait and I have it on both sides of my family. I don't ever want to tempt fate and drink daily to 'cope' It's not coping, its copping out when you do that. Find a better way to handle stress. Drinking on occasion and getting trashed is fun. Drinking to deal with life isn't. Everything in moderation, and the world is a better place.

Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?

The age old debates. Politics and religion. These are the two things I do not discuss in large groups or in public places. It's simply never worth the battle that ensues. Not everyone will agree no matter what, so here's my take on them.

Religion. It's something I was raised around. I went to a small Catholic school for 9 years. We had daily religion classes. I was actively involved in my church youth group for 11 years. I was the Youth Minister for a while. I believe what I believe, and it's not exactly what the church teaches. Everyone has their own spin on religion. Some people think its a crock and something not worth wasting your time on. Some people are so strongly religious I think that they give the word cult new meaning. Born again Christians scare the bejesus outta me. Mormons confuse me. Polygamy is a concept I understand but don't quite follow. Catholicism is constantly under fire. Muslims are persecuted because of extremists. Jews are still harping on the Holocost - which may I add killed hundreds of thousands of non Jewish Polocks too. No religion is the right religion, and no book is gonna give you all the answers. I believe in God. I know he exists. I know that someday I'll see him. Religion is up to every individual to figure out.

Politics. I loathe politics. It's a matter of who's willing to suck the most dick to get to the top. I'm not a Republican at all. I could never be conservative. I'm not a Democrat. I lean much more on towards the Liberal side of things. I will NEVER understand Politics. It's all a crock. This one pays that one and this one knows that one and hence their rise to the top. I won't ever understand how politics have any say in abortion. I'll never understand why they try to stop Stem cell research - which could cure thousands of diseases! I'll never understand so much of it. It's a big game, with a lot of players, and unfortunately only the bad guys ever win.

Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.

One of my best friends is a gay man. Over the years, many of my friends have either come in or gone out of the closet. Several of them have tried many things that would make you blush. Hell, I've tried things that would make you second guess how well you truly know me.

That all being said, what are my views on gay marriage? I'm all for it. 100% on board. I will never understand how this is a political issue. I will never understand how this is a problem for so many people. No one is asking YOU to become gay and marry the same sex. Gay people are no different than you or me, with the exception of the obvious. They deserve the rights that everyone else has when it comes to marriage. Why shouldn't they be allowed to get married, have a legally binding union that entitled them to the same damn things every straight person in the world has? It's not anyone's business who anyone else marries. If I wanted to marry Scott, no one would object. But if I wanted to marry a woman, people would stand up and scream. It makes NO sense.

I also believe very firmly that if the Catholic church allowed gay people to be married, they'd have a lot less lawsuits on their hands involving priests. Many priests are straight, but many are gay. If they allowed them to marry, and not only marry but marry whomever they want, we'd have a lot of very happy priests.

No gay or straight person wants you all up in their business. No one has the right to judge anyone elses decisions and personal choices. If it were up to me, everyone could get married. I'd loev nothing more than to see a man walk down the aisle to another man and have not one person on this planet object. Being gay isn't an epidemic that suddenly hit. It's not a choice. It's not a lifestyle. It's who they are. And that deserves respect and the same damn rights as I have. Someday I hope that this is more widely accepted and that everyone can share this planet happily without being so damn involved in everyone elses' shit.

Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.

I love to read. I could spend hours sitting on my couch with my face buried in a book instead of laying around watching tv. If I find a book I really love, I will blow through it and finish it in a matter of hours. I'll read anything - fiction, biographies, autobiographies, cheesy romance novels, self help - I've tried them all.

I was raised Catholic. I attended Catholic school for 9 years. I have my own spin on my faith now. I believe some of it, and I don't believe much of it. It's a matter of one's own perception. I've read several books that are based off true historical facts about the Catholic church. Several of them are what has made me do my own research, and take the time to figure out what I truly believe and what parts I think are simply stories that were made up when the Bible was written to scare people into believing what the church wanted you to believe.

I'm currently reading a book that has me reassessing everything I once thought to be true yet again. I sat here last night reading, and now think that a lot of what I've been raised to believe has been based upon lies and things that the church never wants their parishoners to hear or see. They sugar coat things, to make them more friendly and not as harsh as its true historical roots are. The Catholic church has much to hide, and apparently if you really dig you find out a lot of things you now aren't sure you ever wanted to hear or read.

Religion is such a hot toic as it is. It causes wars, it causes fights. It causes outrages and sometimes I think it does more harm than good. I'm still Catholic, I still believe what *I* believe. I just wish it was more open and honest, and that I could still attend church and love it as much as I did as a child.

Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.

Everyone has someone or something in their lives they could do without. Some people have more than one. I've bitched about enough people during this much longer than 30 days of blogging. I have already said more than once that no one in my life is a regret. They all have taught me something, or left me with plenty to learn once they were gone. I'm grateful for everyone in my life, honestly.

As for something I could do without, I have plenty of those. Things like bills could sure as hell go and I wouldn't miss them. Or migraines. Oh what I wouldn't give to have someone finally send those away for good. I woke up with one this morning, and it's killing my day. I could do without people insisting upon talking shit about me while I go through some problems with my other half. Which for the record have been resolved.

There's just a lot of things I could do without, but not one particular thing that chaps my ass so badly that I need to sit here and write about it. Life is too short to be anything but happy with what and who you have around you.

Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.

Whomever reads this is going to think I'm a complete idiot, and quite frankly, I'm ok with that. There are two objects I simply cannot live without. It's not my cell phone or an ipod. It's not photos or a book. It's 2 things that have sentimental value to me. So much so, that if God forbid anything ever happened to them, I'd be crushed.

The first is a blanket. Not JUST a blanket, but a blanket that my Grandmother hand crocheted for me when I was a child. Not a baby blanket. It's a full size blanket, and one of the warmest things in the world. She spent hours upon hours working on this blanket. My mother claims that it was being made for her, but I fell in love with it and so it became mine. My Mother never even got near it. My Grandmother finished it and handed it over to me. My Grandmother died many years ago, when I was just 9. That blanket has more meaning to me than any other object I've ever owned. I'm very possesive over that blanket, may I add. No one else is allowed to use it. Scott can't even consider touching it, or he gets his ass reamed out. I won't even allow my daughter to use it, unless she's laying with me. Ridiculous? Perhaps. But that blanket means more to me than I can say.

The other object I can't seem to live without, or rather, sleep without, is a stuffed Winnie the Pooh. Now we're not talking a small bear here. We're talking a large bear. I've been sleeping with that bear as a pillow for the past 13 years. I sleep with it every single night. It travels with me. Hell it was a carry on during a flight a few years ago. It's the most comfortable pillow in the entire world. It was a gift from someone a long time ago, and while it holds some sentimental value, it means more to me because I cannot get comfortable without it.

Every one has something, whether it be from child hood or present time, that they cherish and can't be without. I really wouldn't know what to do without either and I hope I never have to find out.

Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)

Dear Daddy,

On September 20, 1980 at 8:26 pm I came bursting into this world. You were 28 years old, and already the father of one other child. I was the first for you and my mother. I openly admit I was a difficult baby. I've heard the stories. I cried nonstop and was very clingy. I didn't sleep, and I didn't eat well either. But you were never the one to stop the crying, to feed me, to make any attempt at making me happy. Even at that innocent young age, you couldn't be bothered.

Your marriage to my mother was terrible. She was miserable, and trapped by your abuse. Before she could leave you, she found out she was pregnant again, this time with my baby sister. You couldn't be bothered to care about the 3 of us. You were too busy doing lines of blow and drinking til you couldn't stand. On the nights that you were able to stand, you used your fists to communicate. Words never were your weapon of choice, why use words when you had fists and legs to hit and kick with?

The older I got the more and more I realized that what our version of 'normal' was, wasn't normal at all. Other kids didn't have to hide bruises, or pretend that their homes were happy. They truly were happy. Teachers never picked up on what was going on behind closed doors. I'm still to this day not sure how. Other relatives knew exactly what was going on, but they weren't bold enough to dare question it or try to help us. It was 1 against 3, and you most definitely had the upper hand.

When I was 14 I had finally had enough. You threw me down a flight of stairs, and I landed hard, twisted in the railing and the open space in the wall. That was my final straw. I decided, at that young teen age, that I was done with you and your abuse. The next time you attempted to hurt me, I was making dinner. I had a knife in my hand, and I told you that if you came one step closer to me I'd slit your throat and leave you to die in our kitchen. That was the first time in my life I had ever stood up to you, and the look of shock on your face was worth it. You didn't touch me that night, you simply walked out the back door muttering that I'd be sorry. I went to my mother that night, with my 12 year old sister backing me, and told her that she had a decision to make. It was either him, or it was us. But if she chose him, I'd be calling DYFS myself. If it was us, he had to go, immediately if not sooner. She was backed into a corner. Pick and choose who means more to you. The man who's been beating you emotionally and physically for 20 years or the kids who you swear you live for. She chose us.

The next 8 years of our lives were a struggle. You lied on documents, you stole from us. You made us sell the house I grew up in, the one my mother COULD afford to pay for. You essentially put us on the streets. We were forced to rent an apartment in the ghetto, literally. We were in a horrible neighborhood, where crime was high. In fact, our apartment was broken into once and we had a problem with a peeping tom. My mother was working 3 jobs to make ends meet, while you were constantly dodging child support. When I turned 16 you fought her legally to emancipate yourself from me, so you wouldn't be legally bound to care for me. You won. She had half the child support she needed, 2 kids in school to clothe, feed and care for. She put you in jail once after months of you not paying for us. She had to file for bankruptcy, losing her credit history completely. We had nothing. Literally. You didn't care, did you Daddy? You were too busy living your life with the woman you'd been having an affair with for years. Taking care of her 3 miscreant children who to this day have amounted to nothing but a drain on society.

My mother eventually gained back her financial stability, and a small sense of worth and accomplishment as her kids grew into people she could be proud of. But the emotional damage you left her with is undeniable. She is permanently scarred. Hating men and not trusting them on a level your simple mind cannot even begin to fathom. You're married to that woman now. You moved on unscathed. You claim her horrific disasters as your own children now. Claiming her grandchildren are also your grandchildren. Hell 2 of them live with you and 2 of her grandkids as well. You never make much of an effort with Alexa. You never make much of an effort with me or Melissa. You STILL to this day refuse to apologize. You claim you never laid a hand on us. You swear my mother brainwashed us into believing these things. You lie, constantly. You claim everything my mother has said is lies. From the stealing, to the selling of the house to us being flat broke and poor and you having nothing to do with it.

They say karma is a bitch, and that everyone gets theirs in the end. I'm still waiting for yours. Somehow you always get away with it all. You never get in trouble for anything you do. I don't understand how.

I want to know why WE weren't ever good enough for you. WHY you felt it necessary to hit me so hard so many times over? WHY you felt it was ok to belittle Melissa into thinking she was stupid and worthless. WHY you felt my mother deserved what she got. YOU deserve to pay for what you did to our little family. YOU deserve to be beaten down, emotionally and physically. YOU deserve that and thensome, but sadly, justice has never been served. I honestly don't think it ever will. You not only let my mother, who is a saint may I add, down, but you let me down. You let my sister down. You never deserved us. You were never worthy of what you were given, a wife who loved you and 2 children who cared no matter what you did. You've had chance after chance to fix this mess, and you choose not to. Someday, YOU will be sorry and by then, it'll be too late.

Love,
Your Daughter.

Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)

***Just for the record I am NOT a fan of this topic, I think it's stupid.***

I've sat and thought about this topic for days. Literally, days. I wish I were making that up. A lot of people can say that a band or group has helped shape them and helped them work through either their teen years, a parents' divorce, or some other awful event. I cannot say the same. I almost wish I could. But the last thing I leaned on during my awful teen years, my tremendous amount of therapy, and my parents' awful divorce was music. Sure there were songs, but never just ONE band or group or artist who's music made me feel better.

The most I can say about music getting me through tough times, is that I played music. I played the piano for many years. I could sit at that piano and get lost for hours. It was a welcome distraction from the yelling and screaming and threats of beatings. It was my escape. Eventually I stopped playing, and now I'm so rusty it's almost as if I never played. It's sad. I'd love to start taking lessons to refresh my memory so I can teach Alexa how to play. She loves music, and we've picked out a keyboard for her to start with, that she'll be getting for her birthday in a few weeks.

I guess everyone had their band, and I had Bach and Beethoven to work through my issues with.

Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.

I'm not like the average girl. I swear, a lot. I speak sarcasm fluently, as if it were my first language. I love crude humor. I would much rather be around a group of guys and drinking beer than out with the girls. Don't get me wrong - much needed girls nights with martinis are a welcomed change here and there. I speak my mind, often. I don't hesitate to hand you your ass if you do something wrong and it affects me. I have a pair of brass balls on me and can be quite defensive about myself and those I love. Don't even get me started on how defensive I get over Alexa.

Yet, no one ever compliments me on taking charge. For being the stand up girl who fights to the death for those she loves. Who calls complete strangers out for being rude to others. Who won't take shit from anyone. Considering how far women have come, clearly they've yet to hit a level where this is acceptable behavior. I'm often told I'm the rude one. So be it. I'm ok with people thinking me giving a shit equates rudeness.

So who wants to be the first to compliment me on being me?? No one? That's what I thought.

Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.

Everyone has at least one physical feature that they get compliments on. In my case it happens to be these gorgeous green eyes of mine. I've also been told that no one would even remotely think I ever had a child with the body I currently have. That's one compliment I'll take any day.

Neither of those things matter, though. The one thing I get compliments on that flatter me the most is my parenting. I am very lucky with Alexa. She's a very laid back, easy child. I can take her anywhere. I can say no and she listens. All I have to do is give her a look and it'll stop her dead in her tracks. She knows that actions have consequences, even at the age of just about 3. Time outs are rarely used in my house, because there is simply no need. My child behaves like a saint, and me being a hard ass is paying off. I don't want a child who runs around shrieking like an animal threw stores and resturaunts. I want the child who everyone fawns over because she is so well behaved, and it's exactly what I got.

I am a damn good parent, and I love it when other people take the time to compliment me and recognize how well behaved my Lexi is. It means much more to me than any compliment on my physical self.

Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.

Most people can sit down and say that they truly hate at least one person. They can pinpoint the exact moment in their lives when that one person screwed everything up for them in a bad way and they place the blame on the guilty party. Most people can let you know exactly whom they shouldn't have in their lives, but its like a guilty pleasure, they just can't help it and this person stays around.

I am not most people. I have the ability to cut people out. No questions asked. I simply stop speaking to them. Sometimes an explanation is given, other times they know damn well what they did and why I no longer have any contact with them. I don't know if it's a flaw or a blessing, but I don't NEED people in my life. Do I want people there? Sure, who doesn't. But I can easily live with or without your friendship. People put themselves up far too high on pedestals and think that someone needs them to survive. A lot of people can't survive without their friends.

Before I had a child, I had a lot of 'friends'. I had a lot of people in my life in general. I also was out bar hopping every week, making 'friends' left and right and having a great time. However, when I got pregnant and more so after I had Alexa, my 'friends' disappeared. Just like that. Poof - gone. I could no longer go out when I pleased, could no longer be the life of the so called party. And believe me, I was quite happy staying home. I can now count on both hands how many people are truly there for me, and how many people really matter in the end. Truth is your family are the ones who matter and you can only ever really count on yourself.

I also have no one that I wish I didn't know. Every single person who has come into and out of my life has taught me something about myself or about people in general. 99% of the time people will only disappoint you anyway. I think that more people need to learn to stand up for themselves, and cut people out before they have a detrimental effect on their lives. Believe me, you'll be a hell of a lot happier if you do.

Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.

Everyone has so many people come in and out of their lives. Childhood friends, acquaintances, best friends, family, co-workers. The list goes on and on. Some of them we're happy to see leave our lives, because they either drag us down or stopped serving a purpose. Some people we're sad to see go because they enriched our lives or helped us become a better person. Out of everyone that has come and gone in my life, I only genuinely miss a few.

I went to a small Catholic school from Kindergarten to 8Th grade. I had the same 21 kids in my class from the time I was 4 til I was 13. We weren't always super close. We were just like every other group of kids, but in such a smaller group it's hard to not consider them your best friends no matter how much you do or do not get along. By the time 8Th grade rolled around, there was a group of 10 of us that were inseparable. Come graduation time, we all were going our separate ways. Several of them were going to private high schools, while some of us were being dropped into the hell that is Clifton High. I never have adapted well to change and quite literally cried til I couldn't cry anymore at the prospect of not being with these same kids every single day. I was afraid of high school. Shit scared would be more accurate. I knew going into it that the 21 kids I grew up with, and the 6 of us that were going to Clifton wouldn't be anywhere near each other. I'd have no one and I wasn't good with not having my hand held when major changes hit.

We spent the entire summer together before high school started. Every single day, literally. One of us was moving out of state before September. Some of us were just moving on period. Once high school started, everyone met and made new friends. Hanging out with new people was easier than calling the old. We slowly all grew and drifted apart, having our own lives outside of the small classrooms we spent 9 years in. I was sad to see them all fade out of my life, but people and things change.

13 years after we graduated 8Th grade we had a reunion. 10 of us spent the day together, laughing, drinking, meeting each others' spouses, girlfriends, boyfriends and kids. Reminiscing about childhood, looking through old pictures and talking about our futures. Since that day 2 summers ago, I stay in touch with all of them. Some of us decided it was too much and while the reunion was fun, thy didn't have room in their lives for all this. I talk to some of them every day now. Some every few weeks. We plan get togethers and really enjoy meeting up. Our kids play so well together and its nice to have them back in my life.

We all have to grow up. We all lose touch with people over the years. Friendships that helped you through that awkward phase in life fade too. But years later you can always find a way back. Some of those kids know me better than I know myself, and just because we drifted apart, doesn't mean its forever.