Damn you Nicholas Sparks...

Damn you to hell and back and then damn you to make the trip again and again.

I just watched Safe Harbor and at the current I am bawling like an effing baby because... well shit. I can't give the plot away to anyone that might read thi that hasn't seen the movie but damn you Nicholas Sparks!!

You did this to me in The Notebook. Why did I think my emotions were going to fare any better at the end of this movie?  Silly stupid me!

How does a man write a story like that?  I need him to help me with my current story.  I need him to write the part of the man because honestly, I'm afraid that the man in my story is coming off as girly although I have already described him as looking like Eric Bana.

Damn you Nicholas Spark, I need you.  When you finish with the trips to hell and back that I've condemned you to, I need your help to make the man in my story the kind of man that's going to make women everywhere fall in love with.  Hell I need you to wave your magic pen and make him real.

I'm so tired of being alone.  I'm going to admit it.  The great big truth behind me leaving Facebook.  It had very little to do with my days getting more productive.  You wanna know the real reason I left?  Because every single day, every hour, every five minutes, I'm there to check to see if he has posted something new. To see if he is online right now.  To see what he is posting anywhere.  Hoping he will message me or comment on one of my asinine statuses.

And the simple solution would be to delete him from my friends list but to tell you the gut wrenching truth, the easier option was to take myself away from Facebook.  I could no more delete him from my Facebook than I could hack off my arm with a butter knife.

I'm not a religious person but for the last month of Sundays I have asked God each and every night why I feel the way I do about him.  He doesn't want me.  He doesn't like me.  So why do I feel like he is my destiny and that if I just wait patiently the same lightning bolt that apparently knocked me on my ass months ago hits him.

This shit hurts.  I have basically turned my back on a whole bunch of friends because I'm trying to stop myself from stalking someone.  What the hell kind of shit is that?

And if I log on and reactivate that stupid page, the very first thing I'm going to do is go to his page.  I can swear up and down an electric mile on a stack of bibles that I won't do it, but within ten minutes I will have done it.  And sat here and cried.  That's just how pathetic I am.

Damn you Nicholas Sparks.  Damn you to hell and back over and over and over again.  You did this!  You caused the band-aid over that part of my heart to rip itself off.  It was healing quite nicely.  It only needed a few more weeks and I wouldn't need the damn band-aid.  But I had to go and watch one of your movies and feel all romantic and shit.

Damn you.  Damn you.

Damn me.

So there may or may not be any posts for the next couple of days.  I may blog via my phone but I seriously doubt it as I hate typing on my phone.  I'll have my tablet but IDK how much I'll type.  We'll see.

Oh fuck it, I'm going to watch another movie...

Night...

So there was no blog last night

And that wan not an intentional thing.  I went up to see a friend of mine and one conversation led to another conversation and before I knew it it was like seven o'clock and I needed to get home.  For half a minute there I forgot that I was Mom and had to get home to dictate bedtimes and whatnot.  It was awesome.  I so rarely get to converse with other adults.

I made it home in record time but that was not without getting lost.  I always get lost at least once but I see new and wonderful things while trying to figure out where I am and it's all good.  So I got home and had a bowl and a half of cereal for dinner and I was done.  I was so drained of energy that I could barely look at my computer.  I didn't even write anymore on the story I'm currently penning.

So no, my non blogging last night was not intentional.

This morning the girls woke me up as usual for school and I sat and listened to the icy rain falling and decided to let them start their Thanksgiving break early.  I mean, the rain was icy and their bus drivers tend to round the corners so fast you half expect the kids in the back of the bus to go flying out of the windows.  I couldn't have them standing in the icy rain waiting for the bus and I couldn't let them ride the bus today and on the same flip of the coin I could not see me getting up, de-icing the car and letting it warm up enough to take two kids to two different schools.  That was, and forgive me for sounded lazy as hell, way too much work with no gratification.  My bed was too warm for me to contemplate getting out of it this morning.

Kayla is having bully problems again.  I finally got her to understand the last time that if you just stand up to them and show them what you're made of they won't mess with you two months ago.  In that case, she hauled off and punched the kid in the nose and we didn't hear anything else from him ever.  Now it's a new girl who's attacking Kay the only way uppity girls know how... looks.  She's saying that Kay need hair extensions and eye surgery.  Is this really what bullies are going for these days?  I mean really?  That little girl wouldn't have survived a day when I was a teen.  To say I was a bully would be going a little too far.  I only effed with those that messed with me or my friends.  This girl would have busted some ish on me about needing hair extensions and eyes surgery and I would have put on my glasses combed my short hair and showed her exactly WHY long hair can be a burden...  Kay is way to passive.  I suppose this is my Karmic punishment for being a badass in middle school.  What I wouldn't give for a set of Freaky Friday fortune cookies right now.  Please God on Monday Let me wake up in my daughters body...

I'm currently looking for a publisher for my book... again.  The one I submitted to asked for the manuscript even after i said that my story was 160k+ words and then wrote me back a month later telling me that they only look at stories 100K words and less.  My question to them is if they knew it was over 100K words at the time of my summary proposal, why did they ask me to send in the manuscript?  I swear if i see a truncated version of my story on the shelves somewhere I am going to sue them for everything they are worth.

I am going to write now.  Maybe that will take some of the sting out of feeling like I'm being taken for a ride.

Ciao Bloggers!