A Warm Gun

Today is my stupid blog's fourth birthday.  When I took her in for her Year Four Well-Blog Check-up, they told me she should be doing many of the following:

  • Using sentences with 5 or more words not including bygones, yo, gigglegiggle, tee hee or dawg.

  • Using pronouns (my blog is abstaining until marriage; it better not be using those things)

  • Beginning to understand cause and effect, such as, “If you write about your insanity, people will start hate blogs dedicated to you”.

  • Most words and sentences in posts are understood by others.  (Now that's just funny.)

  • Socializes with other blogs well.  (But not as funny as this one.)

  • Develops friendships independent of you, such as following new people on Twitter.

  • Expresses a wide range of emotions.  Takes medications for each.

  • May stay dry most nights.  MAY.

Um, yeah.  Whatever.  I've failed worse tests.

Liz found a meme I've never done before and tagged me for it.  Like aliens and the Templar Knights and chocolate cheesecake that actually tastes good, I wasn't sure that existed.  I'm supposed to tell you what makes me happy, and I'm only telling you four things, one for each year of this blog's life.  But I will tell you four things I have gone to great lengths to conceal from you on this blog. Because I had a little bit to drink tonight, that's why.

I do this on the condition that you will leave me a comment telling me who the hell you are and ONE thing that makes you happy.  Because all my blog wants for its birthday is to know who's reading her.  All of you, if you please.  It would make us very, very happy indeed.

  1. My life with the Thrill Kill Cult.

  2. Still a heathen
    Washing of the water
    Just like that, I was all saved and shit, yo.
    I am totally happy that I was raised as a Jehovah's Witness. There is a great deal of contention as to whether or not it actually qualifies as a cult, but until you are born into a group that isolates you completely from the world around you, brainwashes you with a bunch of jargon and some pretty heavy apocalyptic doomsday scenarios and then convinces you to give yourself up wholly, physically and mentally, your entire life, ambitions, dreams and visions of oral sex to said group, well, you don't really get to say what is or isn't a cult.  That's just the rules.

    So there you have it, the biggie, the ONE thing I never wanted any of you to know. The thing I certainly don't want Google to notice, so let's not mention it again, okay? I have enough trouble reconciling it within myself without every newly freed witness kid banging my blog doors down. (If you must mock me for it, refer to it as "Jay Dub", okay? Our Google overlords are watching.)

    But still, I can say without reservation that I am totally at peace with it, and oddly grateful for it. A lot of my friends are still really angry, or still really revolting from it, but in the end, the shit I was dealing with was so much worse than No Christmas and No Outside Friendships that my little sect of Christianity was actually able to do me some good, offer me some structure and sanity and a belief that it would get better. I can't say I would have made it without them.  And they taught me to study, to seek knowledge, to learn.  Learning so makes me happy.
  3. This picture make me happy.

  4. My mother, 1980 ish
    I love my mother. I will never repeat that in a public setting, ever, so don't try me, but I love her. I miss her so bad it hurts sometimes. The woman she is today is not that woman in the picture, and that's why I love it so. Because she was there, and I can still hold her in my hand whenever I choose.
  5. My Alice in Wonderland collection makes me very happy.

  6. alice in storageland
    It usually lives in a box in the basement and on the bad spot on the bookshelves where you can't see the books anymore, but I love it. Because it makes no sense. Because it's unlike me in every way, and still it is totally me. And because Alice was one Fucked. Up. Chick.
  7. This makes me the happiest of all.

  8. She's way more lethal than she looks in print.
    That is Our Lady of Perpetual Hors d'œuvres. You try growing up in a cult and see if you walk away without a penchant for irreverant Christian artifacts.

The 1,000th Post Recap

Well, I can finally shut the hell up about it because this here is my 1,000th post. I thought I'd write something profound, but then I thought I'd go sit in the sun for 34 million hours straight yesterday and sunburn through a layer of sunscreen that could probably effectively shield satellites.

So, yeah, nothing deep. No manifesto, no Pulitzer stuff here. But I have to mark the occasion in some way, right?

I started this blog 3 1/2 years ago. I was still in my twenties. I had two kids. I have a rocky-ish marriage. I had a job, and I lived in America. Since that day, I have survived another pregnancy (barely) and have kept a new child alive (also barely) through infancy, through toddler-hood, and well into sassy pants years. I have moved in and out of countries 3 times.  I have watched my marriage completely fall apart from under me. I have been a totally single mother.  I have seen friends fight to bring a child home from overseas. I have lost a few friends, human and canine alike, I have fallen head over heels in love with a girl and her family, and I have rebuilt that totalled marriage, and I have done all of that right here.

This was the best thing I have ever done for myself, starting this blog. I've tried to quit it a few times, but I just can't. I think we're attached to each other now, after having shared so many major life thingamajigs. I have revealed WAY too much in these pages. I imagine I have pissed off my share of people on occasion, (and yeah, totally sorry) and I have made some friends that I think will be around for the rest of my life, blog or not.

I love keeping this website. I love that I can be something I am not at all in real life. In real life, you see, I have MANNERS. I am shy. Like, really badly shy. I am not Captain Mom, or Captain Wife, I am not too terribly funny, and I am certainly not hot. But you don't know any of that, do you? Except fuck, now you do.

Anyway, here's to 1,000 posts. And here's to 1,000 more. I really hope at least 3 of you are willing to stay around for that. I hope the next 1,000 doesn't take me so damn long to kick out, but I imagine it will, because these things tend to go in cycles and I am well past time to burn out.

I thought that in closing I would leave you with my favorite posts I've read over the past 3 1/2 years. I've spent a while now just thinking. I tried really hard to remember something someone had written, and remember how it moved me, either to laugh or to cry or to hurl. There were a few that really stood out in my mind, but almost none of them as much as Anne's Baby Jesus Posts, and certainly none more than my BFF, I dare say my soulmate Molly's post on parenting her son and her post on giving him medications, and I add this one with the disclaimer that she has fought an amazing, hard, massive uphill battle to get The Kid's diagnosis of BiPolar overturned, and that it the smartest, bravest thing I think she and The Kid have EVER done, and I strongly caution anyone with a child who is leaning in that direction to read Molly's entire blog start to finish, but it doesn't change the fact that this post made my cry for, oh, days. Really, just go read them now.

So, thank you to all of you, every one of you that has shared this crazy thing called parenting with me. Thanks to the ones who have no real reason to read it, and you know who you are, but you do anyway. Thanks to the moms who have traveled this road with me. Thanks to the readers who have turned into real life friends. Thanks to the real life friends and family who have never given me shit in person for writing such trite things on the internet, to the amazing men and women I have met, thanks for your stories and your comments and your bits of you that you share. Thanks to all of you for holding me up when I'm down, for being a part of my life, for sticking with me through thick and thin. Because it means more than you'll ever know.

(PS: 1000 seems like a good time to update the old blogroll. If you click that Rolling With My Homies page up there, and don't see your link, leave a comment and I'll fix that this week)