Update?

                Well it has been a little bit since I have been in here to write anything. I have been pretty busy between work and school. I have been wanting to write for some time now, just never seem to have the time.  Right now I should be writing one of two papers but I just can’t seem to get the creative juices flowing.  I’ll write it when I get home 😉

                Frank and I are doing good. We’re getting along so good, and we seem so happy,  and he has been so affectionate the past few months,  aside from our distance, it really feels like the perfect relationship. Though I guess I have been saying that all along. We really do get along nicely.  We’re planning to see eachother again soon, we’re also talking about taking a big trip somewhere. He has been talking about Petra in Jordan and now I’ve been looking it up and it looks pretty exciting. It is the middle east but that’s okay. I have an adventurous spirit. I hope we start making the plans soon. I really want to have something like that to look forward to. It has been a little over a year since Prague and we’re both getting very antsy!

                I decided to look up some old friends on Myspace a few months ago. Primarily my “God Father” who decided to stop contact with me when I was about 14 or 15. Then when I wrote him a letter (which expressed how I felt about him just stopping all contact with my  mom and I, like we could so easily be forgotten) I pretty much heard the rumor that he hated me. I thought that after so many years had passed if I contacted him now he would have changed his mind, or his heart and realize he missed out on a lot and respond. But he hasn’t.  I am trying not to let it bother me, but it does. We were really close before my mom moved us out of California, and I just hate that I never get any closure from these people who just walk out you know?  I know even if he didn reply to my message, things would never be like they once were. We’re both different, I’m not 12, and he’s not the same guy, and I am not the same little girl…But I wish I could go back, to when those times were good and maybe things could have ended up a little differently in the future. It’s true what they say though, you can’t change the past.

                I went to Chicago over Easter to visit my uncle and to take him a cat. He has been wanting one for a while now, but he never takes the time to do it on his own. So I thought I would just find the perfect one for him and take it up there. He’s all alone and has no one or nothing to come home to.  So, I did some searching, wanted to adopt a cat but no shelter would let me adopt a cat as a gift for some one else. I understand their thinking, but at the same time it’s not like I am adopting the cat for a stranger, it’s for my uncle. I know where the cat is going and I am willing to still stay responsible for it. No one would work with me though. So I did it under my name anyway and just took him a cat. His a polydactyl (meaning he  has seven claws on his front paws) and his name is Earnie. He is a breed of cats Ernest Hemingway brought over to the US. Earnie is definitely a man’s cat, very boyish and still young enough to be trained but old enough not to be stepped on because you can’t see him! Lol. My uncle fell inlove instantly with him, and they seem to be a match made in heaven. My uncle (who usually calls my mom like everyday) had begun to call less and less now that he has a little companion. It’s pretty funny actually. But I am glad the two boys are happy together. Earnie needed a home and my uncle needed a friend.

                While I was up in Chicago we both got a little drunk.  During our stupor my uncle some how brings up my father, and you know what happens when people have been drinking and bring up a traumatic event. Uhg, I  started facing things I am not ready to face and feeling things that I have done a good job of keeping buried deep inside. I put a tap on it as soon as I could and decided it was time I hit the sack.  I remember crying, which I hate to do, which I don’t do, and I did it. And I hated myself for it. I hate crying over my father, over what he did. The whole situation doesn’t deserve my pain and yet I guess it’s there.  A friend of mine is seeing a therpaist that our work pays for incase you need some one to talk to, and I am wondering if maybe it’s something I need to do.  Because obiviously writing about it in here for myself isn’t helping. I still feel obsessed with it, and I still feel myself trying to bury the feelings and thoughts the obsession brings. I am not sure what the right course of action is. I remember the police officer in Michigan when I was up there  telling me that I needed to see some one. That it’s the best advice he could give me. Maybe I should have taken his advice huh?

I have put on a little more weight.  I can see myself turning into my mom if I don’t make some changes SOON. And anytime I try and make changes, the harder I try to lose the weight, the harder she tries to prevent it. I think part of her wants me to be like her, so she doesn’t have to be heavy alone.  She’d never admit it, and probably doesn’t realize she feels that w

ay, but if she didn’t, she would respect my trying to lose the weight . But she’ll come home with sodas and candy, and muffins and chocolate and breaded stuff. Everywhere I turn there it is, and I’ll tell her to not have it around me, but she does it anyway. If I try and be strict the worse it gets.  If I tell her this though her feelings get hurt and then I feel guilty for hurting my mom. The financial stress, the school stress, and life just make it so hard to avoid the things she has around the house all the time. I don’t have to be rail thin, but I would like to get down to where I was when I met Frank…which was probably 30 pounds ago. Sigh….

It’s still the same life for me….Things never change do they?