To each his own. To me my own.



I came home the other day to a flyer stuck halfway through my front door. It was a friendly reminder of how my lease is up for renewal – again. It’s really hard for me to believe that I’ve been living here for two years now.

Before I moved here, I was a frequent visitor of this little town surrounded by a lake. Somehow, I always ended up here when I found myself in the midst of turmoil. It was the first and only place I would mindlessly drive to. It quickly became as natural as a mother’s love, pure instinct – to drive several miles down the road to the lake. I’ve always been drawn to water, and that’s the only explanation I have for it.

I’ve sat in front of this lake in each of the four seasons. Sometimes only wearing a tank and shorts, barefoot – other times heavily clad in my winter garb, scarf wrapped tightly around my numb face. Just about all of the weather events have seen me there as well, with the exception of snow.

This lake.

I’ve dreamt in front of it, cried in front of it, and slept in front of it. I’ve been approached by cops who likely thought I was a parked drunk, who when faced with my puffy mascara-stained eyes, chose to leave me alone for bigger and better subjects. I used to wish so hard that someone would come after me; pull up beside me, park and knock on the window… get in and speak softly, talk things out reasonably. Even though that someone was well aware of the place I went, eventually it became clear that wish would never even once come true.

It’s no wonder that I ended up here. For one last final time, this little lake town was the first and only place I came to when faced with starting a new life – the place where I was destined to start over. My very own little treehouse in the sky. No, it doesn’t overlook the lake, but I can walk to it down a trail through the woods. At night on my balcony, I can hear the soft hum of boats cruising it. And maybe one day, God willing, I’ll be lucky enough to captain a boat of my very own across it.

Yes, I’ll be resigning another lease. My little third floor condo that backs up to the forest suits me perfectly, and I’m nowhere near ready to give it up just yet. If and when the time ever comes to move again, I already know my emotions will flow like the ocean. Because this is, and was, my first and only pick. And, it was the right one – imagine that. 🙂

The Sure Thing

About a week ago a local channel aired an 80’s movie I hadn’t seen in a long time called The Sure Thing. The plot: an unlikely pair of college students that end up falling for each other during a roadtrip to California.

So the name got me thinking – The Sure Thing. How many sure things are there in life? Not many. How can we ever be completely certain of a sure thing? The dictionary describes a sure thing as “An outcome that is assured; a certainty; something that is guaranteed to be successful”.

The only one sure thing I’ve ever had in life personally is that beautiful and shining Promise of eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. That is itthough that is certainly more than we could ever hope for.

So back to what I was leading up to… is it ever possible to have a sure thing in a human being? To actually put your complete trust, love and confidence into a person, and see and feel that trust, love and confidence returned back to you? Moreso, is it smart to do this? Maybe not. What I do know is the more times you’ve been burned in your life, the more difficult it becomes to trust again. Maybe it’s just me, but I think that in order to acquire a sure thing – if there is a human version of a sure thing out there – you have to be willing to take some risks. To not only remain open, but actually be okay with the possibility of failure.

I’ve always wanted that complete trust factor in my life. Always always. Undivided, unequivocal, undiminished trust. Trust that’s so concrete there’s never any room for questions. A two-way trust that is so openly confident that it illuminates the darkness.

I believe I’ve found it – of this I feel more sure than I’ve felt about anything in my entire life.

A private hell

Seems like we hear more and more about cheating and abusive husbands. Now, more often than ever, we see these type of relationships coming to violent and tragic endings. Believe me, I’m very much aware of the fact that women cheat too, and some are abusive. When it comes to physical abuse though, the majority of the victims are women. Sadly, of the two issues, one often precipitates the other. While cheating and abuse both make me shudder, the two in combination are enough to take a person’s sanity.

I’ve written enough about infidelity enough to last me a lifetime. I am not nor am I trying to be an expert on the subject of abuse, mental or physical – the fact is that I am just very empathetic when it comes to these issues. The cold and heartless ‘I don’t feel a bit sorry for her – she could leave and get the hell out, but she chooses to stay’ never ceases to amaze me. Yeah, right. Unfortunately, more often than not, it isn’t that simple.

Fear prevails. Not only fear of her mate, but perhaps fear of sheer survival on her own. A woman may stay for her kids. Some women think and are made to believe ‘I must’ve done something to push his buttons’, and continually strive to avoid it happening in the future. They learn what not to bring up. They’re made well aware that their feelings are not meant to be shared, and that doing so will anger him. When she’s repeatedly told things like ‘no one else will put up with your sorry ass’ it eventually makes her believe that she’s worthless and unlovable to others. After so much time has passed living this life, she’s left with this shell of what used to be a whole person – just waiting to be led through yet another day. Week. Month. Year.

The next thing you know, half a lifetime has passed.

Anyone who reads this that is identifying with it in any way, shape or form – I beg you to seek help. There are places out there to help you. If you don’t have family to turn to, there are agencies and non-profit organizations out there who do care. Please don’t ‘stay’ and become a statistic. Read the news – the statistics are growing.

Here are a few signs of possibly being in an abusive relationship. If you find yourself identifying with even just a few of them, please take a step back and think about it…

You may be in an abusive relationship if he or she:

  • is jealous or possessive toward you (jealousy is the primary symptom of abusive relationships) this can include constant accusations of you cheating or running around on him/her
  • tries to control you by being very bossy or demanding
  • tries to isolate you by demanding you cut off social contacts, friendships, or even family ties
  • is violent and/or loses temper quickly
  • abuses drugs or alcohol
  • claims you are responsible for his/her emotional state (‘you sure know how to push my buttons’)
  • blames YOU when he/she mistreats you.
  • has a history of bad relationships
  • you frequently worry about how he/she will react to things you say or do
  • makes ‘jokes’ that shame, humiliate, demean or embarrass you, whether privately or around family/friends
  • your partner grew up witnessing an abusive parental relationship, or was abused themselves as a child
  • your partner frequently ‘rages’ when they feel hurt, shame, fear or loss of control
  • you leave your partner frequently, only to return – against the advice of your friends, family and loved ones
  • you have trouble ending the relationship even though inside you know it’s the right thing to do

Does the person you love:

  • constantly keep track of your time?
  • act jealous and possessive?
  • accuse you of being unfaithful or flirting?
  • discourage your relationships with friends and family?
  • prevent or discourage you from working, interacting with friends or attending school?
  • constantly criticize or belittle you?
  • insist on control of all the finances and force you to account for every bit you spend? (except for reasonable cooperative budgeting)
  • humiliate you in front of others? (including ‘jokes’ at your expense)
  • take your personal property or sentimental items?
  • keep daily mail from you, including taking it back to his work to store?
  • have affairs?
  • threaten to hurt you, your children or your pets? threaten to use a weapon?
  • push, hit, slap, punch, kick or bite you or your children?
  • force you to have sex against your will, or demand sexual acts you are uncomfortable with?

The National Domestic Violence Hotline can be accessed from 50 states. Go ahead, launch the link below. It’ll truly break your heart to see what’s on top of the front webpage. They call it a ‘quick escape’ button that you can push to quickly exit the page if your abusive partner were to walk in and see what you’re looking at. If this is not a true jolt of reality, nothing is – it’s real, it’s thriving, and it’s growing. Continuing to keep quiet about it is continuing to feed it. Help get the word out that we no longer have to tolerate this type of behavior from a partner. God bless.

National Domestic Violence Hotline website:

National Domestic Violence Hotline phone:  1-800-799-SAFE(7233) or TTY 1-800-787-3224

That’s Amore

Oh I’ve got it badddd, I admit it. Probably bad enough to sicken the average person, really. So I don’t write about my love life much at all – I’ve kept it to myself for some time now. At long last, I believe I’ve earned the right to spill my guts.

There is no formula or logic to love. Being in love is like an anchor of reason and romance living in balance. Real love is a complete acceptance of the other person, and of oneself. It resides in the knowledge of one another – what our strengths are, what our weaknesses are, and what our potential is.

So just how DO you know when you’re really in love, that head-over-heels all-consuming kind of love? Now before you judge my own personal reasons below, let me first say that this is not a new relationship. The admittedly amateurish things I’m about to write might lead one to the conclusion this is a brand new infatuation of sorts.

It’s not.

When I receive an email or text I jump right to it, thinking it’s him. Same thing with a phone call. When I notice it’s not from him, I get the same sinking disappointing feeling every time (sorry, friends and family). When it is from him, my stomach suddenly takes on the role of Flipper. He’s on my mind every waking minute of the day. At night, he’s the one I dream of.

I miss him so much when we’re apart, that it almost can be described as an aching type of longing. When we’re together, it just feels right. Everything. All the integers of a successful relationship are present. The level of respect we have for one another is astounding, as well as the appreciation we both have for what we’ve finally found.

I have visions. Not the prediction type – more like daydreams of the life that I imagine for the future. I go off into my own little world with these visions of bliss and happiness. On the other hand – sometimes these visions take a dark u-turn when I have one about losing him. That’s the thing about visions, they build themselves – so oftentimes your worst fears manifest within one.

The way he looks at me makes me melt. His beautiful eyes often tell me a story – it’s difficult to explain. When he looks at me, I can all but see into his soul… I can feel how he is feeling, what he is feeling. His deep voice is both seductive and consuming – it makes me feel safe in a way that I never have before. I can hear his voice even when he’s not around.

I know it’s that kind of love because I can no longer imagine my life without him in it. The mere thought of losing him makes my eyes well up every time… Simply knowing the kind of man he is makes me strive to be a better woman.

And that, my friends, is mi Amore.♥

Is it really worth the risk? Seriously?

Here we are, Monday. Another day, another .50¢.

The weekend was great. And beautiful. And warm. Need I say more? Other than I’d like to have it back.

So here’s yet another statistic I feel the need to talk about. Shit.

I have a friend who has had some less than desirable information recently come to light about her guy and the woman he’s apparently been talking to on the sly for some time now. This isn’t just any woman – the fact is that she is a well-known skank. Yeah, you probably remember my blog about skanks. Ole’ Bon holds the utmost disrespect for these lower-than-low chunks o’ sewer trash. My friend had a gut instinct about it and asked him point blank. Thing is, he chose to lie to her face when confronted.

That was reason enough for her to end the relationship.

Which leads to my next question. Will ALL guys, if bait is dangled in front of them, bite? Because I’m seriously starting to consider this possibility. In not all of the instances, but a very disturbing majority – the skank they’re cheating with/contemplating cheating with is much less attractive than his current woman. Now I’m not just saying this because she’s my friend – but this woman is absolutely gorgeous, a true knockout – as well as being a kind and decent person and loyal as the day is long. Any guy out there would think Heaven’s gates had opened if they scored her as their girl. So why would her current guy risk it?

Guys?!? Why ya gonna risk it? I’m seriously at the point where I need some answers.

**jic any of you out there are in the dark about what a skank is… lemmie help ya out a little.

1. Skank:

Derogatory term for a (usually younger) female, implying trashiness or tackiness, lower-class status, poor hygiene, flakiness, and a scrawny, pockmarked sort of ugliness. Used to describe un-hygienic habits, very little clothing and usually hints at that they are “easy”.

And as if I haven’t already, I gotta throw another of my two cents in there…this is MY definition of one. Skank: a female that knowingly and purposefully goes after or persues a man that is married, taken, or otherwise already in a relationship.

Thanks, Urban Dictionary. 😉

A Fallen Survivor

Those who know me know that I’m a lifelong fan of the reality show Survivor. Never missed an episode of the entire 19 seasons, 10 years, that it’s ran.

Jenn Lyon is the first ever loss of a Survivor family member.

This lovely strong lady came in an impressive fourth position on the show’s 10th season, Survivor Palau. She was diagnosed with breast cancer just two short months after the show’s finale. She underwent chemotherapy and a double mastectomy, however two years later, the cancer returned in her bones. Jenn fought long and hard – but lost her battle on January 19, 2010.

It’s shocking. And untimely. She really was a beautiful soul, both inside and out.

Below is a short video arrangement made by a Survivor fan that commemorates Jenn’s time on Survivor Palau. Although the audio consists of music only, this is one awesome video. It not only features the time when she got to swim and play with the dolphins, but provides a visual of her general strength – both physically and characteristically.
Jenn’s Time on Survivor

She refused to succumb to the perils of chemotherapy, instead choosing to host as many fundraisers as possible to help find a cure for breast cancer. This past December, she had been given a final three weeks to live. Instead of retreating to her deathbed, she opened a Christmas Tree lot in Los Angeles with proceeds to benefit breast cancer research. She opted to spend what was to be her last Christmas, and bit of time left on earth, giving of herself to help find a cure.
Jenn’s Christmas Tree Lot

So it appears that our Heavens will shine a little brighter now, since our Lord has chosen a beautiful bright new Angel to reside with Him above. RIP, sweet Lady.


This is all I have today. What can I say, I love Miss Silverstone… and I very simply adore Steven Tyler and Aerosmith. If you decide to watch – make sure you watch ’til the end. So Worth It. TGIF everyone.