Time Out

I took a time out for myself. I’m not used to doing that. I’m used to masking my need for time alone and immersing it with time with others. I used to think my “down time” was going out with friends, and just having a great movie night, or drinking and talking and gushing and communicating, and sharing…


And I’m exhausted.


Once again, inspiration has sprung from a movie – a movie I’ve quoted on here before…. The Divine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood.




Right before Ashley Judd’s character (she’s the young mother) falls off the deep end, she goes away – and stays in a hotel – all by herself. (See the video via - around 6min 40 secs) I remembered thinking – how sad. How depressing an existence that is to do that. To be away from your children, to be away from your husband, to be away from friends and family? How sad that must be, and how sad the person must be to do it.


With all the things that are going on in my life right now – I called a time out for myself, and said, “self – if you were to go somewhere and be alone, where would you want to be.” At first I yelled at myself, berated myself. Alone? Are you insane? Why would I EVER want to be alone? Why would I EVER want to be away from that adorable beautiful wonderful family that I have? Calmly, a voice replied, because you are sinking. And you need a timeout.


You have two choices, you can either have a timeout and try to get yourself back on your two feet, or you’re going to sink and drown, and you’re going to drag that beautiful wonderful amazing family down with you.


What are you going to do?


My reply was simply – the ocean. When I am alone, the happiest I am, ever will be, ever was, was when I was by the ocean water. I inherited that from my mother. She loved the ocean Whenever she was sad, she said – she’d go to the ocean and hash things out. Not necessariy with anyone, just with herself.


So – here I am. In front of an ocean, trying to hash things out inside, and all I can think about is – what am I going to have for dinner… when am I going to shower… It’s definitely getting cold.. yada yada yada. I suppose it very much an “eat pray love – trying to meditate” moment.


It’s beautiful here. The surf is only about 50 feet away – and I’m at the furthest point on the beach that I can be away from the waves. My room is right above me. I can technically write this up there – rather than here – on the beach – where I think the sand is messing with my keyboard. But – there’s something amazing about being able to type your blog, hash out your feelings, and get connected to yourself, on the beach – with a huge electronic toy. (wink.)


I’m all alone.


There are other people here – but they don’t know me from a hole in the wall. (never did get that saying). I’ve been sitting here on the beach since about 2:30ish. It’s 6:12. And the blaring question on my mind is – where am I going to eat. Out – or in?


But it shouldn’t be right? It should be the deeper questions – like – why am I here… what do I need to make me happy – what am I going to do about all the heavy?

And I’ve decided. No. It’s not.


An adult time out is about you. Whatever you want it to be to jolt you out of the same mundane thought pattern, to rejuvenate you. It could be going away (something drastic like me) – or a simple something by yourself. But – effeciely – the only one rule I suppose I have in my own head which I will impose on no one is – you have to be alone. Timeouts are for you. All for you. To be alone. And still…


And see if you can stand yourself. Because then – and only then – will you start listening to yourself. Not – focusing on yourself – because – let’s be honest – you focus on yourself all the time. You are probably 100% consumed with yourself. But – how often do you actually ask and answer the question, “what do I need?” much less – “what do I want?”


People are often telling themselves what they SHOULD need and what they SHOULD want. Which is why – it’s not a good idea to have anyone around when you’re in timeout mode. Because other people have this annoying little tendency to want to socialize and talk. I know – I know. I am a very BIG offender of that myself. But – when you need to put yourself in a timeout, you need to hear yourself. And that means, no chitty chatty talky socialize time. Other than that – no rules.


I spent a lot of time putzing around myself. For frick’s sake – it took me a whole 4 hours to get here. Then there was that whole eat lunch thing. Then I was on the beach – reading smutty magazines (a very guilty pleasure… right up there with surfing porn (hey – don’t judge me. If you say you’ve never done it – you’re probably lying – or worse – oppressed!…)) then I think I fell asleep. Then – I started writing. I’m freezing by the way. It’s a balmy 70 degrees where I am – with a wind chill factor of winds off the Atlantic at a warm 68 degrees – or thereabouts – (insert your local weather person’s name here) I am not.


And now – the question is – what do I want.


WHAT!?


The rest is between you and your timeout session.


Boy – there is nothing like crashing waves, and salt in the air to clear a mind.

It’s nice.

Nine Eleven

Today is 9/11. I'm a New Yorker by birth. Not upstate New York, not New York State - a New Yawkah. Born in St. Vincents (recently closed - thank you Board of Directors for mismanaging funds) - lived my first three years in the boro of Manhattan (Yes - it is technically one of the five boros - Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, the Bronx and Manhattan). Born in 1976, there is a bit of a connection between myself and the Trade, because - the Trades were created in the 70's - and so was I. Prior to the 70's, the skyline was completely different, than when I was older and when I used to watch them from my father's station w as we drove over the Brooklyn Promenade part of the BQE (Brooklyn/Queens Expressway). I fell in love with the Towers. It was a 25 year love affair.

Like any lost love in your life, there is a mourning period. For me - I was in mourning over what happened. The worse part of it was that I had already moved away from the city by then, but I felt such a strong connection. So many of my friends worked near the towers, across the street, in the towers. I lost a friend in the Towers... I know friends of friends who witnessed horrific things, I know other who lost loved ones. But I was disconnected from them - because I was not in the city to mourn with them. I've always regretted that. I was THAT person who tried to find any connection they could to what happened. I was the one who said that if I took a 5:00am train from Smallbany - which I never do - and took the A to the Trade Center - for whatever reason - I would have been there. I just wanted to be a part of it. I know that sounds terrible - but I wanted to be connected to the city I grew up in, and had coursing through my veins. I wanted to have more reason to cry with them and be angry.. But I was miles north- and unable to share anything...

So - I went through the frustration, anger, denial etc... myself.. in order to come to terms with how I felt about this tragedy. You would think that after each sobering year, everyone would be further and further away from those broken feelings and that things would get easier. Unfortunately - it doesn't for me. Nor - as I can see from media coverage, Facebook posts, twitters - it doesn't for others either.

In my own life, I’m experiencing a lot of change. You see things through different and new perspectives. I’m seeing the World Trade Center tragedy through different eyes this year. Pensive, yes, sad, absolutely – but different.

What has happened since the Trade Center. Has anything good come from it? Over 2,000 people – dead. Fighting over a mosque’s location near the center and the threatening of burning the Koran in Florida - war amongst ourselves, war with other people. Do I dare say that the tragedy had accomplished its goal of fracturing this country more than it has to uniting it? So much so that when the memory of the tragedy started to fade in the eyes of the public, the wives of the 9/11 tragedies were accused of doing all they were doing for monetary gain. We still haven’t found Bin Laden. We have lost thousands more in our young service men and women. And are we any better than we were pre 9/11.

My girlfriend had a bumper sticker on her car. It was always very significant to me. It was simply the word ‘COEXIST’ using the various religious symbols.

It means more to me today than it did before 9/11. In the words of Rodney King – “Can’t we all just get along?”

(see video via)

We need to remember 9/11. We need to remember the lives that were lost – the people we loved, the city that was devastated. But more than that – we have to make sure that they didn’t die in vain. That there was something good and beautiful that came out of their sacrifice for us. That we will be resolved to look into the eyes of terrorism and say – I will continue to live my life, and love those different around me. I may even dare to love you too.

It makes me see things with a bit of perspective. You’re supposed to appreciate the things in your life the most during trying times like these. You’re supposed to remember why you cannot do without your family – close friends. Help this bring us all closer together… let it help us to coexist with those who have differing beliefs. Let the sadness in our heart not be about who was right, or who was wrong, and why.

Let THAT be the way we honor those who have fallen. Let never forgetting spring us into the action of living… and coexisting… happily.

No more war. No more. Within, without. It’s over.


Coexist.

Inner Strength in outer toesies.

I’m gazing at my daughter shoving a big handful of rice into her already filled mouth, chipmunk cheeks growing. She’s sitting lazily in her high chair, and I’m being an AWESOME mom by letting her watch TV and eat her lunch at the same time. I know – I know – bad habits. I keep thinking/saying that it’ll be different when this next one arrives. Probably not, but that’s what’s getting me through the guilt.

As you’ve already read, I’m going through some tough times. It would be unbearable given my current state of hormonal-ness. For pete’s sake – the toilet didn’t flush correctly last week – and I asked God why my life was so hard… I’m serious.

But – my heightened sense of “my life sucks right now” is tempered by this little chipmunk eating right next to me. She’s so full of life, laughter and joy. Living vicariously through her has lightened my “woe is me” attitude.

I used to watch movies and kinda scoff at the women who, while making their children struggle their entire lives about whether or not they love them (i.e., The Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood) – they end up telling them 30 something years later that it is their mere existence that has made all the difference in their lives.

(watch the scene via (at around 4:50))

When I wasn’t a mom yet, I used to think I could handle anything. It was definitely easier. No tantrums to deal with, no one constantly bombarding you with needs and wants. I was able to maneuver through my life without much effort, and drown my sorrows in tequila laden nights and friends who would be so inclined to help me with that mission. For the most part, I was happily masking my pain with the busy-ness of a single/childless person’s life. I thought that was the ticket, and I thought I was doing well. I had full control over my life, and the mere thought of having to share that control with an uncontrollable infant/toddler was unthinkable. After all, I am number one in my own life.

Then I had her. Life hadn’t gotten easier. There were more stresses with a baby. She had demands and needs that sometimes I felt that I couldn’t address. I had demands and needs that had to suddenly take a back seat to the needs of this kid. My body changed, I lost a bit of my youth and beauty – and for a while – I thought it was too hard. On top of the underlying issues in my life, this little one added more, and took away the only way I understood how to deal with these problems… the freedom to do whatever I wanted.

But – begrudgingly, I started noticing other things. My life hadn’t gotten easier, but I was laughing more. I was delighted by the pitter batter of little fat fingers and toes on the floor that soon became little padded feet. I found happiness in a smile, or a successful bathroom run. The pride of seeing similarities between the two of us was mixed with the want to see her become a better version of me. But through it all – I was happy-happier than when I was just ‘managing’ my own unhappiness as a single/childless woman. Everything about her made me happy. Sometimes I was exhausted when she didn’t nap – but once asleep – the way the breathe came in and out between her puckered lazy lips made me smile in my heart.

Therein lies the difference. When I was dealing with my own pain and struggles on my own, there was no smile in my heart. After this one came, no matter how difficult things were, or how often I cried myself to sleep – there she was every morning, with a bright smile on her face, ready to discover the world all over again. And so bewitched was I that I started to want to rediscover the world again through her. It became beautiful to me again through her eyes, through her discovery. Fascinating, beautiful, radiant… that was the way she is, the way I am when I see her, and the way the world around us is…

So – as she sings the theme song to “Super Why” I’m reminded, I have untapped strength hidden. I want her to fly on her own one day – and not be encumbered by the idea that I find this inner strength through her…. But now that it’s been untapped and unleashed, I know it’s there and hopefully, I won’t always need her to be the one to release it for me.

But that’s a completely different blog.

Spread your wings butterfly.. and fly.....

I haven't been posting anything for a while because I've been going through some tough times.. There's been a lot of setbacks, but a lot of breakthroughs too. Usually -I find that I hash things out on my blog - but I've also realized that I am also this side of private to share all the nitty gritty details of my life – with or without anonymizing the people in my life.. (sorry – I just Sarah Palin’d that word – but it seemed appropriate..)

In all the roughness of the past month or two – I find that for the most part – I’m doing alright. I’m getting by – and more importantly – I’m learning a lot about myself….

I’m not sure if I wrote this in another blog – maybe my previous one – but I love this story – because I seem to be able to apply it to my own life – all the time,,

The story goes like this:

“There was once a man who found a butterfly’s cocoon on the ground. He had noticed a slight hole in it – and that the butterfly within was STILL IN THERE and ALIVE. He saw how it was struggling to get out – and decided that he had to help the butterfly. He poked at the hole – and soon – opened a gap in it big enough for the butterfly to easily climb out. The butterfly climbed out of the cocoon and tried in vain to spread its withered looking wings. Soon thereafter it died. The man was confused. What happened? Why hadn’t the butterfly spread its wings to fly?! Turns out – the butterfly needed to use its own efforts to get out of the cocoon – because that effort would pump the blood it needed into its wings so that the wings gained enough strength once it was able to get out of the cocoon, and fly away.”

The moral of the story is – the guy was a freakin jerk.

Okay – just kidding. The moral of the story is (for this blog – I kid you not – I use this story in a lot of contexts.. You may see it again) – some suffering may be good – because in the end – the struggle make us stronger.

I’m finding that especially true for me right now.

Sometimes it feels better to just sit and rot in our cocoons. I mean – why not? It’s nice and warm. We’re protected from the outside world. We’re dry, and for the most part, we’ve got the food we need to eat. We have no idea what’s out there.. Why bother even venturing outside at all?

Some people don’t venture outside their own cocoons, and they are ever happy about it. It’s not a big deal to them at all. I don’t judge these people. I think the world is tough enough – and everyone’s got to find their own happiness – no matter what. I know a number of these people – and I adore them. I’m also sure that in their own ways – they’ve encountered these small little cocoons of change and have triumphed.

And – there’s nothing to say that the world we venture into IS guaranteed to be better than the one we left. Sometimes our eyes are opened, and we DO wish we chose the BLUE pill.

(Matrix reference… sorry about that – but I love that movie!! But - see the clip - via)

But – if you’re unhappy about where you are – then where’s the loss? I think the mind and body always try to seek a balance within. Not just ancient Chinese juju I’m talking about – but you know when you’re off a little-both in happiness and sickness. When you’re unhappy – you feel it. You may not be able to recognize the origin of that unhappiness, but it’s there. And – when it is to the extent that it throws you off balance (which is when you start to notice it to the point where you actually ARE unhappy.. because – let’s face it – there are moments of the day where you might feel a little uhappy – but for the most part – they’re fleeting moments and have no true impact on your overall psyche..) there has to be enough of it for you to move into action.

Being generally unhappy is not good enough. I know a number of people whose personalities err on the side of unhappy, and they’re perfectly okay with that… Some people find happiness in their unhappiness. I’m not going to judge these people either. Like I said – everyone’s gotta find their own way.. Just don’t rain on my parade is MY motto.

But when you’re unhappy enough to the point where you need to find that balance again – a lot of times, you venture out of the cocoon – because the cocoon is not feng shuied enough. Not enough to balance your new needs. It worked at one point, but now you must move on.

Then – the work begins.

It’s not easy – change. Change is hard work. A lot of times, it opens up the closets in the house we call our brain, and skeletons come pouring out. Skeletons we spent many painstaking years trying to conceal. The difficulty with change comes in trying to deal with these skeletons, because you need to confront your skeletons, before you can get past it and get to the real change. For the most part, we don’t have to deal with ALL of them… just enough of them to effectuate some real change.

Sometimes we fail.. because it’s just too hard. But – other times, when we are able to get through it – it is brilliant.

I’m not there yet. I’m still struggling to get through it. I’m so focused on this right now – that everything else takes second seat. But – I’m emerging somewhat for air… and when I do – I see a glimpse of the shoreline of my destination – and it is beautiful.

I’m going to spread my wings… because I just screamed at the guy that was trying to help me – and said – I gotta do this all by myself man!! I’m gonna spread these wings, even if it kills me.

Laissez Love-A-Faire

I've been thinking about love. MCSquared and I have a very interesting love affair. I am an emoter. He is not. I show people that I love them when I do. He does not.

It got me to thinking about how I was supposed to teach my daughter about love and what to do with love.

Love is a bit like a moving target in my opinion. There are two types of love. The love that you feel - and you alone can feel it, and then the love that you share - active love. We'll call it selfish love vs. active love. I compartmentalize because I think it's easier to understand love when you split love into these two categories.

The idea of selfish love - I must admit - did not come from me. It came from.... dare I say it... a chick flick. Yes - I said it. I do get all my wonderful inspiration from chick flick movie writers (thank you people!! You are invaluable to my creative juices!!)

A scene from the movie "The Last Kiss"

(couldn't get an actual clip of the specific scene...)

I love this scene. If you want to watch this movie - SPOILER ALERT!! SPOILER ALERT! Read the next paragraph!! Otherwise, read on... In this specific scene, Zach Braff is trying to win his girlfriend back after he cheated on her. He's trying to appeal to the girl's father - played so well by Tom Wilkinson. After he makes his plea - Tom Wilkinson's character says the following:

"Stop talking about love. Every asshole in the world says he loves somebody. It means nothing. It still doesn't mean anything. What you feel only matters to you. It's what you do to the people you say you love, that's what matters. It's the only thing that counts."

I started wondering about that... thinking to myself - is it the only thing that counts? Should that be what I teach my child?

People love in different ways - that's absolutely true. MCSquared is a selfish lover. I'm an active lover. But does that necessarily mean that my love is unrequited? I know that MCSquared loves me. He doesn't show it the way I'd like him to all the time, but I'm not "unloved."

In the end, however, it feels that way. In the end, when someone doesn't actively love you the way you need them to - then it feels like rejection - and unrequited love. I think it's because we are taught that if someone loves you enough - then they will.... You see it in a lot of movies. A person loves someone - so they sacrifice and do something they otherwise would NEVER do. I think there's folly in assuming that someone doesn't love you because they don't do that. But more importantly, I think it doesn't matter what the other person will or will not do for you.

What matters is what you are or aren't willing to take.

Whether or not what you're doing is enough for them is for them to convey - and you cannot have ownership over that (like - "doing things" for your loved one so that they love you... I find that a lot of active lovers try to do this - but that's an entirely different blog...) you have to detach from that.... If they don't think they're getting enough - then they have to be able to ask you for more.

But in the end, I want to teach my little one that what matters is whether or not you believe there is enough of both kinds of love. Do you think there's enough selfish love to sustain the the kind of active love you need from them.... The trick is the balance. No one wants to be with someone that showers them with active love, PDA, flowers, attention - but feels nothing for them. Eventually - a relationship like that will deteriorate from the inside. There is only so much active love that can be sustained without selfish love to fuel it. But - even if you KNOW there's A LOT of selfish love there (selfish to your partner, because they feel it all - and you feel nothing)- it's the active love that is the one that matters. Whether a lot or a little... you need to figure out for yourself - if it is enough.

It's not something easy. In fact, MCSquared and I are still working through that one. Sometimes our perception is off, sometimes the active loving is off.. But one thing is for certain, there's enough selfish love on both our parts that we keep trying...

Maybe- even THAT is enough.

A woman's worth

"Cause a real man knows a real woman when he sees her

And a real woman knows a real man ain't fraid to please her..."

I was wondering. Isn't it fascinating that women are fascinated with their value? A woman's worth. I've heard that in a context of a song, in a book, Cosmopolitan magazine articles, endless discussions from girlfriends, from mothers to daughters... But I've never heard men write songs about a man's worth, or hear men talking to other men about their value and what they deserve.

I wonder why that is.

Do we women inherently not know how much we are worth - and have to constantly remind ourselves about how much that is? I'm really curious to know.

We hear it all the time. A stay at home mom would make six figures if she was in the workplace. Women are harder working than men, and more diligent, and do not reap the same benefits. A woman who has children retains 50-80% of the household duties and chores, and about the same percentage of childrearing. There seems to be a barrage of "how we women are so strong, dare I say even stronger than men" comparisons in the media. But I don't hear how there are endless stories about how men measure up.

Then - there is the area of "being treated right." Or "you're worth more than that." That argument can be made often for both sexes, depending on the type of person and the type of relationship - but more often than not it isn't. Yet, why is this mantra used over and over with women, and not men?

What is it about us that inherently needs to be reminded how much we are worth? What make us settle? Love? Money? Security?

I suppose you can argue that society has done it to women. Women have been inherently devalued and had to "prove" themselves capable of producing an heir (even though - we all know who really holds the reigns on that one now...)... As a chinese woman, I know that there is a stigma of having girls over boys - so much that there was a period of time of mass gendercide of the female sex, and to a limited extent, today as well. That has inherently told us that we weren't worth as much. In addition, women in china were often sold off to the highest bidder. Not in sex trade, but into families so that they may produce heirs for that family. All in all - treated as commodities. I'd argue that there are similar stories throughout different races. Not that I'm doing any sort of research, but a search of mine own limited brain produces a scene from "Sense and Sensibility" to which all scholars turn to for historical reference, and there is a particular telling scene where Elinor argues with Edward that she cannot improve her rank through her own, but must marry to gain it. Once again, inferiority in it's ugliest form.

But then to make it inherent in all women, even those who didn't go through it?

The argument can also be made that not all women feel that way. That can be said about all generalizations - I suppose. But it must be common enough that articles and books, and songs touch some deep chord in women that these could produce some sort of profit for the creator... I don't hear a man saying, "wow! I really related to that song by Alicia Keys!!" - even though there WAS a line in there that referenced how real women knew real men came first.

One line is true however in this song, at the end of the day...

"She will if she can find a man who knows her worth...."

Blogging fascination

I'm truly not this frequent a blogger. I usually blog once a week or every two weeks at best. I'm just preparing you for the hiatus that might come up after this week. I'm blogging more because I find it cathartic (sp?) and I took this week off for one last vacation before the little one arrives.


Which made me think. Why exactly AM I blogging so much right now? What is it about my sudden need to blog..


When I first got involved in blogging, I thought I was the first. Seriously. Naiive? Stupid? But - absolutely. I thought I was one of a kind, and that no one else was like me. Then, I started noticing that other people were blogging (many of whom were recent first time Moms who were out of work with their small children trying to make sense of them). Other, more interesting, much more articulate people were blogging. You'd have thought that would have been the end of my blogging career.



So did I.



But then - I couldn't stop. I started to work through my blogs. Sometimes I'd write about an actual issue - other times, it was just an unimportant anecdote I used to de-stress, cracking myself up at the same time.



I find myself in a similar position now. Some people blog to solicit conversation. A great blog acts that way - I think. It creates conversation. But - my blog has evolved into something I realized was purely for myself. IS purely for myself. I find myself blogging - and not really caring who else reads it (But when someone reads it - it does make me happy).. but really enjoying the process.



No life lesson here.. except.. if you're stressed about anything - consider blogging.

Facebook Frenzy.

I've finally accepted that I'm addicted to facebook.

I went through a period where I thought that I was done. I put the kaibash on Facebook - I said - I'm only going to check you once, and that's it...

For a while - it worked.. Totally worked. Afterall, I'm a busy mom of a young child, baby in the belly, high maintenance friends (you know who you are) at work, at home, at the local bar (which I attend only to remind myself that one day - one day I might give up my facebook addiction for a REAL addiction...) the gym, etc...

Then the nagging thoughts came. What if a friend of mine found something on Farmville I missed?! Or someone kicked my butt in MafiaWars, and I didn't retaliate?! What if someone posted something that I liked, and I didn't "like" it - and then I missed the 38 other likes and/or benign comments about how awesome the post was?

At the end of the day, however, I have to admit. It has nothing to do with the applications or games, endless posts about the weather or how tired people are. It's more about the stalking factor. I now know you more and better than I've ever known you before - like it or not. Because - I cannot turn the gossip button off in my head, and therefore, I cannot turn off the secret stalking need in me to read your wall in the most stealth way never really commenting, but reading and studying everything like your wall was the material I needed to pass the LSATs. It's gotten that bad ladies and gentlemen...

I now know all about one of my co-worker's sisters, brothers, bffs, little idiosyncracies... and I don't even really talk to them at work!!

I even dared to be offended, because a friend of mine posted, "Is facebook just a vehicle to avoid conversation?" I'm like - dude.. if you know anything about me - I DO NOT avoid conversation...

And then - I really thought about it..

I don't have a lot of friends.. Not compared to 15 year old hormonally driven kids in high school. I'm pretty picky still with my selection of friends...but - of the some-odd number of friends that I do have, I can count the number of people I actually talk to candidly on both hands. Beyond that - I'm simply involved in a lot of cyberstalking...

I think there's an upcoming show that discusses how a kid goes out and tries to meet the three hundred and something friends that she's facebooked, and it highlights how little we really know about the people we friend, and how much we reveal to them.

Not that I'm going to stop any bad habits as it relates to Facebook - I figure this mea culpa is a beginning to getting to recognizing that I may (or may not) have a Facebook addiction problem...

I suppose I just might message a "friend" and get to know them.. and actually let them know - that I'm getting to know them...

Next step, phone call.

Next next step.. actually meeting for coffee....

Hack away! I'm back!!

Okay - so you might have been a bit concerned that I've been away - and that I have a completely different blog page, and that I'm no longer able to blog on my other page..

I'll tell you why.

Hackers.



Freakin hackers...

It happened about the end of may.. My two existing email accounts, that I've basically had for a million years, were hacked into. As a result, I lost my facebook account, my blog account, ON TOP of the ONLY two email accounts that I had. Needless to say - I was ingenious in making each one the recovery email for the other.. So - I was SOL...

There you have my tale of woe. Now - I'm settled, I have 15 different email accounts, none of which I remember the password to - and am constantly updating and changing them.

The interesting thing is - when I was trying to log onto one of my email accounts to figure out why it was acting so crazy (I'm so technologically tuned in! I had the accounts connected to my BB (baby for me - Black berry for others) and so I knew when something changed on my account) - the bugger kept trying to change the account WHEN I WAS ON WITH THE YAHOO REP!! It was amazing that I was able to even FIND a rep to talk to for Yahoo - gmail had no one.. no offense, but gmail customer service stinks like a big pile of poo...

But - this blog - is a long short way of saying, I may look different, but I'm back with a vengeance...

(well - that was just to schnazz it up.. I'm back..)

BTW - if you've never read me before - I WAS previously known as "A Case of Dyang."