Not That Kind of Coke

About a year ago, my blog was discovered by the VP or SVP...something like that...of my organization through a random link on fucking Facebook.  I hate fucking Facebook. 

I'll pause here for the shock and awe that comes with such blasphemy.

He thought it might send the "wrong message" to some key partners and "highly suggested" that I remove the filthiness that it contained forever.  So, I pulled it offline but never had the heart to delete the file.  It was a year of my life.  A hard year of working through some serious shit, and it was my safe-place...my outlet...my place to let it all out and no longer hide my shame.  So, here I am a year later (or something like that) in need of some serious sharing...and screaming.  I have uploaded my old posts and will begin writing again.  

So much has happened since my last post, but I don't think I will spend my time tonight reliving what has been; instead, I need to share some news that I received today.  My brother is in jail.  Not the I got caught with a little pot over-night stay kind of jail...but the I got caught selling cocaine within 1000 ft of a school Class 'A' felony kind of jail.  From what I understand this carries a minimum of 20 years.  He just turned 26 on October 11.  He will miss his son's school years, he will miss the birth of my first child, he will miss the funeral of my Papaw. He will miss so much.

I forgot to call him on his birthday.  Now I can't call him at all.  He is alone, and there is nothing I can do to help him.  To those of you who say, "he got what he deserved", I say go fuck yourself!  This life was chosen for him by parents long ago.  He made a mistake...he has made many...and he will pay dearly with his life and the loss of his child.  This is not justice.  Justice would be my father being in jail for using my brother as his cover.  Justice would be finally getting my brother the counseling and rehab he needs.  Justice would be a fresh start.  But the world is not just my friends.  My heart is aching for him.  I know he is scared, confused, ashamed, and so many other things I probably cannot comprehend.  Please pray for him.  Please ask God to show him mercy...to give him an opportunity to truly live his life...to be a father...to be my brother.  I need him in my life.  I raised him and protected him until he was 13.  I feel so very helpless.  It makes me hate my father.  I want the guilt to rot his insides, but it won't.  The only thing making him squirm is the thought that my brother might tell them where the "main office" of his business really is.  Michigan Street anyone?  My father will throw him under the bus so fast and not think twice.  Why am I not a lawyer?  Why don't I have a single lawyer friend?  I've got an eye doctor and lots of teacher buddies but what in the hell can they do but hand me a tissue when I cry.  Honestly, they don't really seem to have the compassion to even fucking do that.  I'M JUST SO FUCKING PISSED OFF! I need someone to blame and someone to fix it. Anyone want to take the lead here?

MAY?! I can't believe my last post was in May. I guess I have been a little busy...

• I lived at the University of Houston for 8 weeks.
• I moved...twice.
• I turned 30.
• I got married.
• I had my name changed.
• I went on my honeymoon...1 week in beautiful Hawaii.

and now...nothing. Life is still. In some ways I am grateful for the calm, but I don't seem to do too well with too much time on my hands.

In Memory of Our Dirty-Word Poetry Magnets

Emily and I have decided that since we are getting married it is time to move on to the next phase of our lives...you know the one...the more mature phase where we go to bed at 9pm, start wearing granny-panties, and get rid of the dirty-word poetry magnets on our fridge. Ahhh...how I will miss the endless hours spent staring at the fridge in my thong, late at night, writing filthy poetry. Here are just a few of my favorites.

ODE TO EMILY

YOU SAY PENIS - I SAY VAJAY-JAY

THE HOO-HOO

THE ORAL EXAM

STRAPPING IT ON

Oh...dirty-word poetry magnets....

Random Bits and Favors

My mom's surgeon called this morning at 7:00 am...no cancer. With those words my chest got a little lighter. Today is a really good day. I feel a little more free to continue and enjoy my life and more prepared to get things back on track. Trust me, there is a lot to get back on track..

Wedding preparations

Packing for our move on May 28

Facilitation of a new staff training

Conference calls

Checking-in with my staff members

Getting ready to leave for and help run the 8 week 24/7 training that I have worked all year to prepare for

Working out with my trainer

My health, diet, and weight (so tired of bitching about this one)

Hunting the lizard in our apartment

Getting my tan on...

The list goes on, but even at this point I am bored with myself. Anyways...speaking of the wedding, we finally landed on a favor for the the guests. Beautiful glass wine stoppers from http://www.beau-coup.com/. I really think they will be the perfect gift given that my future mother-in-love will be preparing a 5 course dinner w/ wine pairings. I know...she is super-fabulous.

Hide & Seek

I am still in hiding. Today I am hiding from the doctor...oh and my personal trainer. I am supposed to call his office today for my mom's test results (the doctor's...not the personal trainer's.) I totally do not feel ready. Not that my readiness has any impact at all on the cancer that may or may not be inside of my mother.

I am not ready to hear that it is in fact cancer, but I'm also not prepared to hear that it is not. No...I do not wish for my mother to have cancer, but what I do want is an answer for her deterioration that goes beyond the drug use. I need for her suffering and my mourning to stop...I need an ending. I am constantly mourning the loss of my mother, and the reality is that I lost her a long time ago. I need to stop hiding in this dark mourning dress. When I finally do make it through the layers of black silk and french netting what will I find? According to my personal trainer a pretty hot bod...that is, if I'd stop hiding from him. But beyond the string bikini....will I find relief...happiness...comfort...myself?

The Day After Mother's Day

When things get too difficult, I tend to hide...even from my blog it seems. My mom is really sick again. She is down to 80 lbs, so frail and had surgery on Tuesday. An ulcer ruptured on her esophagus causing bacteria to leak into her chest cavity. In short, she had to have her esophagus removed, and we are waiting to here if it is cancer. Em and I spent last week in Indiana with my mom in the hospital. Today is our first day back to work, which is difficult. It was so hard to leave her behind. She was so scared and still confused about what was going on. So that's the update. Didn't this blog used to be funny...or a least a little bit funny?

In the spirit of funny...this always makes me laugh.

Drowning in Velveeta

The depression can be so consuming. It is thick like Velveeta only it's getting thicker. Somehow I manage to pretend that everything is alright. She knows it's not. She hasn't "seen me laugh" in days....I am distant. I say that I am fine and continue to find mundane things to bitch about. The wedding decorations, the favors, the guy who cut me off in traffic, my job, my weight...the list goes on and on. Richard likes to say, "What it's about aint what it's about." So what in the hell is it about?!

Laying in bed the tears force their way through the dam that I have so carefully constructed. They come spilling over, forcing me cry out in ways I never want to hear again. Em's hearing aids are out for the night, so if I am careful she won't know. I sit in the bathroom in the dark...muffled sobs.

Begging God...for what I don't know...just begging.

Then a more sensible Amanda comes forward to "clean up this mess. You don't have time for all of this. You have work tomorrow. Plus you are being overly dramatic." So I did, then back to bed. But damn-it! The tears are back and in full force. The pain is overwhelming, the anxiety...I am on the verge of a panic attack. So now what do I do?! My mind is racing for a solution. Burning myself, cutting myself, gorging my face until I am sick...all are reliable options for making the tears and all of the emotions that go along with it disappear. I don't want to cut, so I settle for nail clippers...cutting my nails so short until they hurt...cutting cuticles. It's not working. Tonight I have two options; a razor or the cold mac-n-cheese in the fridge.

The brutal hiccups that I have as I type this should help you determine which path I chose. And I am at peace. The feelings have been stuffed. I will survive one more night. But this can't go on. In the last 2 months I have gained 20 lbs from all of the food-stuffing I have been doing. It's like I am trying to destroy myself, but if I am destroying myself who will save me? No one. I have no one. My mother, father, and brother are no longer capable of being there for me...I'm not sure they ever were. I was the mama there.

I am so scared that my wedding day is going to come and I won't be able to feel the love and excitement that the day will most definitely be filled with. I will be stuck in this fog, crying for my mother...wishing she could be there healthy and sober to help me choose my dress, and to tell me how beautiful I look, and how happy she is for me that I found someone to love me unconditionally who takes care of me the way my dad wasn't able to take care of here. She will cry a tear at our beautiful ceremony and dance to "We Are Family" by Sister Sledge. Smiling...happy...healthy. But that will not be. So as I work to plan this wedding into perfection with the hopes that it all will be just enough to distract me from the one thing that will be missing. My mother...my Mom. My family has ruined so many things in my life and have taken and taken until I have nothing to give...how do I keep them from taking this too?

Sorry for the somber entry, but it truly feels like sumo wrestler has be lifted from my chest. Until next time friends.

Love-

The Sparkly Queen