So my Dad has been in China the whole summer, and when he left, he only asked for a few simple things. One was to get the mail, another to water the plants, and the third was to make sure we didn't get any water on the wood pieces by the stairs because they are unfinished and will stain if any water gets on them. Well, we've been bringing in the mail, we've been watering the plants, and today we discovered that there are water marks all over the unfinished wood! I am just a little bit FREAKING THE FUCK OUT! After work today, we're going to Home Depot, and then Lowe's if necessary, to first see if there is a way to get the stains out, and if not, to have it replaced with identical pieces...I don't believe in God, but in situations such as this one, you better believe I'm praying that we can pull this off. If he comes home to that, it will just be one more reason not to trust me, one more reason that I couldn't possibly care for my own home. We are both totally confused by these stains, too, because, first of all, it's summer and has been relatively dry, and second, we have been extremely careful with the wood. We even moved the plants to the floor to avoid any possible spilling from the watering can. We don't set anything down on the wood. We are very careful to avoid setting anything down on the wood. So how could this happen? We're both at a loss for an explanation. But it sucks, that's the one thing we are both certain of. The other thing is that we are leaving on September 5th for our road trip, and he is getting home that same day, so whatever we do, it has to be done by then, and god, it better be good. If we can't fix this, I won't be able to sleep at night. I don't want to email him about it and have him pissed on his way home and pissed again when he gets home. We have to, I repeat, have to find a way to fix this situation without him ever finding out. My last resort is to take the cat, dip his feet in water, and press his paws into the wood over the water stains to make it look like he did it. My Dad would never get mad at the cat, the cat is his fucking golden child, the son he never had, Mr. Prrrrfect. The little shit. But whatever, it would piss him off, but not nearly as much as it would piss him off if he thought that HAM and I did it. And I'm not into animal abuse, like I wrote recently, I've gone vegan again, but don't put it past me to hold him against his will, dip his feet in water, and press his paws all over that damn wood until he is sure to be 100% framed for the staining of the wood. Of course, I hope it doesn't come to that, I hope there is a more humane resolution to our problem. It's not that my Dad would DO anything to me, it's just the disdain he would have for me, one more reason not to trust stupid, irresponsible BG. BG, always making bad decisions, BG, never able to follow through on her responsibilities, BG, a failure. Maybe this is more my own idea of myself than it is his, but where do you think I got it from? Years of being treated like a dumb girl, because girls are silly and don't really know anything and they can't take care of themselves, and they're certainly not as smart as men. And I don't just experience this with my Dad, but with most men, men in general (with a few exceptions of course). Whatever, they can kiss, my big, smart, responsible, ass.

It's getting harder for me to write lately. I guess because things are going fairly well so I have less to complain about. I still have this underlying fear that HAM is only with me for my money and a place to live, and as soon as he is financially able to move on, he'll go find a younger girl with a bigger butt. He says he loves me, and he says a lot of really sweet things to me, and he's mostly good to me with the occasional making fun of me, but it's never in a mean-spirited way - it's always just playing with me. Even though sometimes I don't like it. So what I mean is, my fear is probably irrational. But then I have this other fear that he really does love me right now, but he'll grow out of this relationship because he's so young and I'll be left close to middle-aged, childless, unmarried, and totally alone. I mean, I suppose it wouldn't be all bad - I could travel to different countries and see the world - something I've always wanted to do. I could move wherever I wanted and I wouldn't have to take anyone else into consideration. I'd probably lose weight because I always lose weight when I'm single. And there are plenty of age-defying tactics available to women these days like botox and whatnot, so I even if I am middle-aged, I don't have to look that way. And sometimes I don't feel 100% happy, because of the teasing. It's really subtle and I'm probably being oversensitive because of past relationships where I was outright abused by men and called horrible names. But I can't talk to him about my past, so if it does bother me, I can't say why. I got him to stop calling me a bird and to stop mimicking my laugh, but he still says other little things...and they are so little I can't even give an example, but I know I don't like how I feel when he says them. But still, that is minor, it's not something to question a relationship over. I love HAM and I want us to stay together. He is absolutely terrified of getting me pregnant. I know he's young and just starting college and it would be terrible timing, and I don't want to have a baby right now either, but I don't think it would be the MOST horrible thing to happen. It would be better than getting Cancer or Aids. Haha, having a baby would be better than contracting AIDS. That's a pretty sad comparison, isn't it? Well, I'm still not sure if I even want to have babies. Part of me thinks, yes, I want kids, a couple, maybe a few, so I have cool adults in my life one day, and someone to take care of me when I'm old. But all that in between time? Like, the baby part would be okay, but then they start to grow and start to develop a personality of their own and then it becomes a neverending battle of wills. Did you go potty? I don't have to go potty. Put your shoes on. I can't find them. You need to wear a coat. I don't want to wear a coat. And then when they get older: You need to be home by eleven. Mom, everyone else's parents let them stay out until midnight! You think you're going out dressed like that? Mom, all the other kids dress like this! You're grounded! I hate you, I wish I was never born! And so on...so basically, I would be okay with a baby, and okay with an adult who lives separately from me, but I don't want a toddler or a teenager or a bitter, resentful 20-something. Can't I just skip all that and just have the good parts of child-rearing? I guess parents think there are more good times than bad, though, and maybe there is something to be said for that. I've never had kids so how would I know how terrible or wonderful it can be? I mean, when I had my dog, he puked every time he went in the car (which was several times a week because of my husband's job), he attacked anything that wasn't human, he was terrified of his own shadow, he was the pickiest eater on the planet, he had horrendous smelling farts, he snored, his breath smelled like rotten poop, and he frequently tried to dry-hump his little sister, but you know what? I loved him no matter what he did, no matter how he smelled or what he ate (he once dug up me and my husband's poop and ate it), no matter how many dogs he attacked, no matter how many times he ran and hid when he heard loud noises, and no matter how many times he puked in the car. I loved him with all my heart. And when he was murdered, my heart broke into a million pieces, never to be fully repaired. So I got his name tattooed on my neck. I loved that dog. I still love that dog. I have a picture of him in my wallet to this day. He was like a child to me, the closest thing I've ever had to a child. So if having children is anything like my relationship with that dog, then I get it. I guess I do get it. Unconditional love.

Shit, I haven't written much this week. And it's not because I don't have anything to say, it's just that HAM is on his break so we're together more, and my boss has given me several projects at work so I haven't had time. I am sad to report that I am once again experiencing allergic reactions to foods. So far the two culprits are dairy and soy. I already cut out dairy and since then my eyelid has stopped twitching, but when I cut out dairy, my soy consumption increased, and now I have been breaking out in hives on my arms and chest. So I am cutting out soy again, too. It's okay, I've done it before, and before I also had cut out gluten, so this won't be nearly as bad. There are a lot more soy alternative, meat alternative "meat" products available now, such as Quorn, and this other veggie patty I found that's really yummy (and gluten free, too). Plus, there are a lot of protein/energy bars that are raw, vegan, and soy free. My new fav is Lydia's Organics Cacao Crunch Bar. While it is more difficult to eat this way because my choices are a bit more limited, I actually consider it a blessing in a way. It's my body's way of telling me to get it together and pay attention to my health. I mean, you can't have any more obvious symptoms than eyelid twitching and hives. It's plain as day that I have to give up these mass-produced, Monsanto bred, hormone filled trash that's only hurting my body and truly crushing my spirit. I've definitely noticed a decine in my attitude and happiness when I eat soy on a daily basis, not to mention the bloating and weight gain around my stomach. And dairy? Shit, dairy is basically glue. I don't know anyone who would willingly ingest glue, but when you eat dairy, that's basically what you're doing. I just don't need it in my body or in my life. My quality of life is not damaged by my lack of cheesecake or ice cream. And my soy consumption consists mainly of my triple medium soy latte in the morning, which, this morning I replaced with almond milk and it's fine. Not as good as soy, but it's fine, and I'll get used to it. I'm happy to have to readjust my diet towards more healthful choices. I've been eating steamed vegetables of every color every night, along with a potato (sweet potatoes usually, but the other night we had these amazing dark purple potatoes). I usually have salad or lentils and grilled veggies at lunch, and oatmeal with walnuts and half a banana for breakfast. I've cut out eggs, too. So I guess I'm a vegan now. I was a vegan once many years ago, but I was still drinking and smoking then, so I don't think it was as effective to me personally (although it was still better for animals and the environment). Now, I don't drink, don't smoke, don't do drugs, I exercise regularly, and I'm vegan! I'm fucking happy about this. It's still brand new, so we'll see if I can stick with it, but I just don't care that much about the products I'm not eating. I was already vegetarian, and I've gone without dairy several times in the past. Eggs were always the hardest thing for me to give up, but lately I haven't even really wanted eggs. I've just lost my desire to eat them for some reason. And that's great since they are so high in cholesterol and oly have six grams of protein, which is easy to get from vegetables and meat alternatives. Yes, I'm still on antidepressants, and as of right now, I feel like I may have to stay on them forever because every time I stop, I slowly fall apart, but at least I'm doing the best I can for my body and the planet. I know antidepressants are tested on animals and I don't like that I am contributing to that, but what else can I do? One thing I am going to try is natural progesterone from yams. I used to take it for almost two years but I was prescribed too high of a dose and it made my periods stop. It's when I stopped taking the progesterone that all my problems began. I was already having digestive issues while I was on progesterone, but when I stopped, the binge eating disorder, weight gain, allergies, extreme digestive discomfort, insomnia and depression began. It's because I have estrogen dominance. I'm not just self-diagnosing either. I have had my hormones checked several times, and every time my progesterone shows as practically nonexistent. My estogen has fluxuated between extremely low and normal, but my progesterone has always been almost off the radar. So I know this will help me. No one that eats as healthy and works out as much as I do is this fat without there being an underlying cause. I am 99% sure it will help me lose weight and feel less irritable, and I've heard it helps insomnia, too. I do remember sleeping really well when I used to take it, so I hope it will help. My insomnia has improved immensely, but there are nights (like last night) where I wake up in the middle of the night and then just lie awake for hours, thinking about irrelevant things. Well, I guess I'm off to the gym now. We're doing back today, my least favorite of all the muscle groups, however, I am especially cut in that area. I scare people with my traps. Once I lose this estrogen fat, I'll be back to my "rock hard to the core" body that I used to have, that is what I deserve to have for all my hard work.

Haha, how funny that I was writing about moving on yesterday and today I'm feeling a bit stuck. I realize that I have a huge amount of guilt for the stuff I did and said to HAM when we almost broke up. He said that he forgives me, but, damn, I don't forgive myself. I feel like such a terrible person, so ashamed of that whole scene. I wish it wasn't the only way to find out his true feelings for me. I wish he would have just told me when I asked him. I don't blame him for what happened - it was all my choice, but I know I wouldn't have wanted to run back to my ex if I knew that HAM wanted to be with me. All I wanted for months and months was for HAM to say "I love you". I kept thinking it was going to happen, like at certain moments when we were lying next to each other, looking in one another's eyes, being close and I felt love, but I know the rules: a girl can never be the one to say "I love you" first. It's a relationship death sentence. The guy HAS to say it first. And he wasn't saying it, even when I was sure he felt it. And after a while, I decided he must not love me, and that really hurt. And then I figured if he didn't love me, he didn't want to be with me in the future. So I asked him, and all he said was, "I can't predict the future." And that just hurt even more, because I was 30 at the time and feeling worried about my future. I wanted (and still want) a partner in life, a marriage, a lasting one. I want one man to love, who loves me, and I don't want to end up single again at 35. But he is a lot younger than me, smart, funny, good-looking, likeable, and I started feeling horribly insecure. And then I've got this crazy person, my ex, who is madly in love me, starting asking me to marry him after less than a week. He took me to meet his mom the day I met him. He is much older than me and ready to be married and have a family. But even though he had those aspects, he is still a crazy, abusive liar and when I left I knew I would never go back. My therapist says I was scared and attempting to rub back to something emotionally (albeit not physically) safe. That makes sense logically, but realistically, it's still just stupid. I never wanted to be with him again, I was just afraid of being old and alone and having no one to love me. I always wanted the person to love me to be HAM, not my ex, not at all! But HAM started to seem like someone I couldn't count on for the future, because he didn't seem very enthusiastic about it, he didn't hardly seem to have an opinion at all. I know that no one can predict the future, anything can happen, plans change, people change, and nothing is set in stone, but even if all that is true, plans still mean something. They represent things. Planning on a future with someone means something to me. HAM saying that he can't predict the future felt like he didn't want to commit to  or our relationship. HAM never saying "I love you" made that lack of commitment feel even worse. And as much as I liked him, loved him, wished he loved me, I didn't want to feel like I was just in another boyfriend/girlfriend relationship because those things have always ended for me, usually in a very painful way. But HAM is the first guy I've ever been with who is worthy of my love, and of my desire to marry him, be with him forever, treat him as well as I possibly can, he is the only one deserving of all that I have to offer to a relationship, so it's that much more important to me that he loves and wants to be with me. He said that one day we would get married, but it was not a proposal. He has not proposed to me, he's still getting over that stuff with my ex, and I have to be patient. But I'm constantly beating myself up about it and again, feeling like I don't deserve his love and like he might not ever ask me to marry him now because I'm too terrible of a person to deserve all he has to offer to a relationship, his love, his commitment. Like I blew it, and the dumbest part is I blew it because of how badly I wanted it. I hope that ends up not being true, but like HAM said, you can't predict the future. Anything could happen. I'm just tired of being disappointed and hurt. I want us to be together, be happy, exercise, and eat organic, vegan diets.

Which is a whole other topic. I'm reading one of my favorite authors, John Robbins, book Food Revolution. I read Diet for a New America years and years ago, and it was so inspiring to me as a vegetarian. I have lost my way a bit recently, but I'm trying to get back to my veg roots lately. One of the things in my life that I have been the most proud of is eating vegetarian, but I realize that just isn't enough. I really need to go all the way and eat only a plant-based diet with no animal products whatsoever. Before I only did it for the animals (which is reason enough) but in Food Revolution, I am realizing just how imperative it is to my health. Heart disease and obesity run in my family, and the number one cause of heart disease is a diet high in saturated fat and cholesterol. I can't get away with eating eggs (or chicken, which I was eating during a terrible allergy boubt where I couldn't eat soy, dairy, or gluten) because they are just as high in cholesterol as beef. And that's not made up, that's a fact. In fact, a serving of chicken breast actually has more cholesterol than a serving of lean ground beef. And one egg beats both of them by over 100 grams of cholesterol! I just don't need anything contributing to the detriment of my health. Both of my grandfathers died of heart disease, as well as suffering from heart disease for many years before their deaths. My grandmother died of heart disease, too. Gotta go, more later!

It's so weird how some people never change. They have some bad childhood and just stay stuck in the past forever. They never get over the bad shit that happened to them as children so they keep doing self-sabotaging, self-defeating behaviors over and over again. Every once in a while, I do a web search for my ex-boyfriend from when I was 19, Evil. As you can imagine, someone named Evil might have some issues. He was a short, tan, blue-eyed white guy who affiliated with Mexican gang members. He had all the Mexican gang tattoos, like the comedy/tragedy masks, girls with big boobs and clown faces, the teardrop tattoo under the corner of his eye (which apparently is only given in prison for murdering someone), and "Evil One" in Olde English tattooed across his swollen junkie stomach. He was addicted to meth and used to shoot it up into his dick because he had a good vein there. He was a meth cook (at least that's what he claimed, although even with a meth lab, I never saw him produce anything usable). Our relationship was all about drugs, sex, and fighting. We would fight, fuck, and get high, and that was all we did. Our relationship was chaotic and dangerous and he was one of the most abusive, frightening people I have ever been with. He would hold me in places against my will and threaten to kill me, he would force me to spend money on my credit card to get him motel rooms, he once gave my car keys to a mentally retarded meth addict who called himself "God" (the guy was seriously mentally retarded - the state gave him money and an apartment because he was too stupid to work). He cheated on me with God's girlfriend, a heroin whore, some other prostitute named Freedom who I never met, and I'm sure countless others. He kidnapped me, he choked me, hit my head against walls, and punched me in the face so hard that I had two black eyes, a fat lip, a bloody nose, and a concussion that sent me to the ER. We were together for nine months, although I left him several times during that nine months. The day I finally left for good was the day he punched me in the face. I was on the phone with my mom, telling her I wanted to leave, and he cut the fucking phone cord! Then I tried to run out the sliding glass door and he grabbed me, so I dug my long fingernails into his sides. That's when he beat me up. I moved into a domestic violence shelter for a couple months and met a girl there who I became fast friends with named JM. I had been there only a few hours, and she arrived a little later on the same day. She and I and several other girls were sitting out at the smoking table and the first thing she said was, "So, who else got dragged through the front yard this weekend?" It was so fucked up that I had to laugh, and from that moment forward, she and I were inseparable, just cracking each other up all day, every day. Unfortunately, one day she was on the phone with her abuser (the father of their two children) and the conversation was really upsetting. That night she got drunk and started hopping from picnic table to picnic table, telling one of the female counselors that she had a crush on her. The next day she got kicked out. I left a few days later because it just wasn't the same without her. I moved in with JM, her abuser, and their two young children, a boy, 4, and a girl, just barely 2 years old. That's a whole other story, though, and I'm not trying to write my memoir right this second. My point is Evil, and how some people never change. See, when Evil was a child, his father sexually abused him in the most horrific ways. He forced him to peform oral sex, and raped him repeatedly, I think for several years. His uncle's did, too. His mom married this scumbag when she was only 15 years old, and I'm sure she came from a fucked up family as well. So she knew that this stuff was going on and did nothing about it. In my opinion, little is worse than that. No one I know has ever told me such horrific stories of childhood abuse. Evil's was the worst story I ever heard and probably ever will hear (because I don't hang with people like that anymore). So he grew up, became a male stripper, and got addicted to meth, went to prison, and joined a Mexican gang. When I met him, he was 31 years old. It's been over ten years since I left that relationship (thank god), and I have since quit doing drugs, quit hanging out on the streets with dope fiends and whores, quit being an irresponsible loser, fucking whoever, snorting and smoking whatever, and generally not giving a fuck about myself. Granted, no one raped me as a child, no one (as far as I remember) ever molested me, so I can't say that I know what's that feels like because I don't. But what I do know is, I had traumatic shit happen to me when I was young, and before I knew any better, I coped with it by hurting myself, doing things to numb the pain of a fucked up childhood. But at some point, I feel like you really have to stop feeling sorry for yourself and move on. Drugs are actually quite lame, and life is far more of a high. Prison, from what I've heard, is not a good time, and being homeless blows for sure. At some point, you have to realize that you're continuing to make life such far past the point that it needs to suck. As soon as you're able to start making your own decisions for your life, as soon as you're old enough to make your own money and get your own place to live and food to eat, you have the option to move on. I didn't move on right away. It took me several more years of punishing myself with bad relationships and chemicals before I finally got it that I don't have to, and don't want to, live that way. But some people just go on like that 'til their early death. Evil is 42, and just booked again in July of this year for a felony. I saw his mugshot (which I could create a link to, but I won't because I'm too embarrassed) and he has the meth lesions all over his face and neck, he's all sucked up, his eyes are shut, and he's just fucked! 42 years old and still up to the same old tricks, never to be happy, never to move on, stuck in the pain forever. I wonder if he even knows he has a choice? Maybe he doesn't. Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about at all. Maybe being raped by your dad really is something that you can never get over. Maybe karma is a real thing, and in his past life he was Hitler, or some other horrible dictator, and his current life is his punishment for his last life. I don't know. I just feel like it's such a waste of a life, a waste of space on the planet to live an entire life in misery. I think he's also turned into a pedophile, but like I said, there's little information on the crimes committed, since he's only been booked and not charged. But I know he's attracted to young children...there were little signs here and there that I ignored at the time, but I just know. God, that gives me the shivers just thinking about it. Anyway, I have this uncanny ability to forgive, and maybe that's why I'm able to move on and so many addicts aren't. But I forgive him for what he did to me, and I forgive everyone else, too. Life is too short to stay mad. Staying mad doesn't do anything to the people I'm mad at, it only does something to me, and that is, make my life suck. And since I forgive him, I hope he finds some peace. I hope everyone finds peace. I believe everyone deserves it.

One of the great things I've decided over the last week or so is that I really don't care for drinking alcohol or smoking weed anymore. I don't enjoy getting drunk, and having just one glass of wine would be nice, but it always gives me a headache and a mild hangover the next day. It's just not worth it. And I thought I liked weed, but I don't know, I just changed my mind. It makes me feel dehydrated when I wake up the next day and I just hate feeling dehydrated. I'm not saying these things are off limits - I don't think it's good to be all or nothing about anything, but as a regular activity? I don't think so. This actually makes me really happy, because AA taught me that "one is too many and a thousand is never enough", but as it turns out, one is okay, but I could take it or leave it. Maybe I'm not a drug addict or alcoholic, maybe I am, all I know is, as of today, it doesn't do it for me like it once did. I'd rather have lots of energy at the gym, the desire to eat wholesome foods, and the hydration to do hot yoga (which we're doing tonight, btw). I feel better physically and mentally when I am free of those things. To me, those things seem to be the opposite of health. Healthy people don't inhale ANYTHING. It's disgusting and it's bad for you and it dehydrates you. I don't like anything that contributes to my dehydration except for coffee. And even that I have cut back to once a day. The rest of the day I drink water, water, water with lemon in it. It keeps my lips from feeling rough, it makes my skin look and feel smoother, it makes my hair shinier, my workouts better, and it keeps UTIs at bay. I have had recurrent UTIs for years and staying hydrated is the only thing that stops them. For years when I was drinking, and even after I quit and started living on coffee, I had UTIs and painful sex. I have had a million tests, been tested for STDs several times a year, even underwent surgery, and as it turns out, I just needed more water. Water has changed my life. Of course I forgot my water bottle today, like a dumbass, which is really bad since we're doing hot yoga tonight, which requires extra hydration. I'll have to start drinking like a maniac on my lunch break to prepare. Anyway, I haven't written much of anything for entertainment purposes in a while now, pretty much every time I write on this blog these days, it's just journal ramblings, which I guess is fine, but I do like to entertain. I guess I'm just lacking much social commentary. I'm totally obsessed with the idea of owning a place and all my thought are consumed by it, so there's no time to focus on sociological complaints. I'm just happy the economy is in the toilet so I can get a good deal on a condo. I was looking in Capitol Hill for a while because that's where I would love to live as far as Washington State goes, but I guess we're going to get a place in Bellevue. That's okay. I'm a Bellevue Girl, I have to accept it. I get my hair done at Gene Juarez in the Galleria, I work out at LA Fitness in the Galleria, I buy groceries at Whole Foods on 116th, HAM and I both work in Bellevue and HAM goes to Bellevue College. My life is here whether I like it or not, so I might as well just suck it up and get a place here. I'm at least hoping that we'll be able to afford a nice place in West Bellevue or Wilburton. Fuck Crossroads, fuck 148th. I refuse to live there unless it's beautiful and private and I'm not surrounded stinky cooking or lots of children or thugs. I don't want to live in "New Belhi", so nowhere near Microsoft, thank you. And I'm not trying to live in little Me-hi-co either, so Crossroads is probably out. I want a nice, quiet area near downtown and near some nice parks/ trails so I can walk the dogs I will be getting. I don't mean to sound like a racist, because I'm not a racist. I just don't like lots of wild children or the smell of boiled cabbage or cops in my parking lot every night. I experienced that as a child/ teenager living in Bellevue Manor on 148th, and it was a nightmare, I hated that place, just pulling up to the place made my throat close on me. I'm allergic to that place. I will never go back. I deserve better than that. I've lived in enough ghettos over the years, I've been around plenty of out of control children, even lived with a couple for a while (white children, btw) and I don't wanna do it again. I'd rather just have my own house, but I can't afford a house in this area, so I have to get a condo, and if I'm getting a condo, it's gonna be somewhere nice or I'll just keep living with my dad. I don't want to be constantly annoyed by my neighbors and their obnoxious children and their domestic disputes or their thug teenagers. I'll be the only one with a Pit Bull, blaring Yeezy in my condo complex. THE ONLY ONE! And I hope my neighbors like the smell of steamed vegetables and veggie burgers, 'cause BG's coming and she's bringing her electric steamer with her!

I'm starting to feel a bit more optimistic and a lot less angry now that my period is toward the end. HAM and I got into a huge fight the night before last and wrapped it up sometime before he went t work yesterday. He has been holding on to a lot of resentment about my talking to and considering going back to ALL. For good reason, but the part that really hurt me was that he was bringing up every relationship I've ever had and how they were all such losers and how I've made so many bad decisions and that makes me untrustworthy. He even said, "I can't imagine being your dad at your wedding and having to give you away to some toothless loser. No wonder he got wasted." I don't know why, but at the time, I thought that was the most painful thing he could say to me. It really hurt. It hurt so much that I was just bawling uncontrollably and had to leave the room so I could go email my dad an apology. I'm not mad at my dad anymore. That's always just a PMS thing and I do it every month. I actually really love my dad and don't want anything bad to happen to him or DL. I want them to be happy. I don't want to disappoint him or make him ashamed of me by my poor decisions. He wrote me a really nice email back, accepting my apology and telling me that he's not ashamed of me and that we're all human. He said some things about his faults as a parent, and his own father's faults as a parent, and that while we're all responsible for our own choices, our upbringing can affect those choices. He said he was too lax with me, didn't enforce any rules, didn't teach me how to manage/ save money, or how to clean up after myself. He always did those things, he just never taught me. But whatever, live and learn, I suppose. But anyway, I asked HAM if he could just say whatever other hurtful things he needed to say because I couldn't go through the pain of it a third time or more. He finally decided to just forget about it, move on and forgive me. He wants me to get my tattoos covered up. That's fine, I've wanted to for a long time, just haven't had the funds or any good ideas on what to cover them up with. I have an E on my ankle and I thought maybe I could change it to Evolve...but the E is in Olde English and that particular font doesn't really convey evolution. So I don't know, I guess I could get a stupid flower. The little girl who I babysit at work sometimes thinks I should get a dragonfly over my ex-husband's name. I'm not really a big fan of dragonflies, so that probably won't happen. I'd like to get another lotus flower. And he also wants me to delete all the pictures of my ex that are on my external hard drive. That's fine, too. It's not that I need them really, except for maybe describing his features in my memoir. That's the other sad thing - he won't read anything I write in my memoir class because he doesn't want to think of me ever being with someone other than him. The rest of it is all fine, but I'm sad I won't be able to get his opinion about my writing because he's such an avid reader that I can trust his feedback. I guess I'll just have to rely on my fellow writers and the instructor. And my mom, of course. Also, my dad says when he gets back from China that he'll talk to his financial advisor to see if it's possible for me to purchase a modest condo. I've been obsessively searching the MLS for condos ever since. What a dream come true, to have my own place - not an apartment or rental of any kind, not even in my dad's name, but really, really MINE. My own little chunk of space on the planet. Fuck. I'm already seeing it my head, imagining the hand made wall mosaic, blown glass chandeliers from HAM's friend, JF, who is a professional glass blower and sells his larger chandeliers for 15k. Of course, we would get a much, much smaller one and hopefully he'd give us a discount. I imagine huge framed painting, maybe even a mural. HAM has an artist friend, who I guess is a heroin addict, but that means he'd probably do it for cheap if he's not too strung out. We want a big, soft, comfortable couch and a Vitamix blender and two dogs. Or one dog to start and then another one, but at least one dog. I think about it day and night. I look at the same places over and over again, waiting for something new to get listed. Although there are several places I want to look at. I can't do anything yet because it's not a guarantee that it will happen, but DEAR GOD, I pray it does! My dad said something about giving us his study so we would have two rooms upstairs and then he could rent out the apartment. That's definitely better than just my bedroom, but still, I don't want to live with my dad anymore or be right next to his bedroom. He's retired - when would we have sex? We certainly couldn't just rip eachother's clothes off in the middle of the kitchen like we have been. Also, when my dad is here, it always feels ike the kitchen is his. I never cook food when he's here because he's always cooking and taking up all the space and I just feel crowded out. Basically, this house ain't big enough for the both of us. If it wasn't for the prospect of owning my own place, I would've moved out long ago. The other exciting news is that we have tickets to see Jay-Z and Kanye's Watch the Throne tour. It's not until December, but it's gonna be AMAZING! The new album is interesting, lots of stuff going on, but some great lyrics and beats, and it seems like they had a lot of fun makng the album. I've been listening to it on repeat since it came out a few days ago. They have a song called HAM, which, in their case, stands for Hard As a Motherfucker. My HAM has had a tattoo on the back of his arm for years that says HAM and recently someone asked him if it stood for Hard As a Motherfucker. I love it. He is pretty hard, I have to say. Damn, I just love that guy. I hope he asks me to marry him one day. I just realized I'm wearing my sunglasses inside, and I've worn them the whole time I've been writing. Damn, I'm more gangsta than I thought.

I guess I need to think of something to write. I just really haven't felt inspired lately. I'm not so angry anymore now that I have my period, but I don't have a whole lot to report either. I've been telling my uncle for months now that I'm going to join his band and all he needs from me are a list of songs to learn, but for some reason, I never end up doing it. I've been trying to do it today, but it's just not going very well. I want to sing, and to get paid for it would be awesome, but I just always end up slacking for some reason. I don't even know why, really. Maybe it's because the last few times I tried to be in my uncle's band, I had bad experiences, so I'm nervous about trying it again. But he assures me he's got a good group of guys now and I would like the vibe. But he doesn't want any rock songs, just jazz, R & B, and blues. I love the blues, but I really don't know any jazz and R & B is usually hard to sing, at least current R & B. I'd love to sing Beyoncé, but I'm not Beyoncé. Okay, so I just took a little break to try singing "Irreplaceable" by Beyoncé, and now my vocal chords are shot. I feel like I've been screaming for an hour and all I did was sing it three times. Okay, I've come up with seven songs. Corrine Bailey Rae - Put Your Records On, Alicia Keys - If I Ain't Got You, Amy Winehouse - Back to Black, Adele - Chasing Pavements, Adele - Right As Rain, The Animals - Bring it on Home to Me, Etta James - At Last. I can't sing any of them right now because of that damn Beyoncé, but hopefully by the time my uncle's band is ready to play them my voice will have recovered. Damn that Beyoncé.

I am work and nearing my period. In fact, according to MyMonthlyCycles.com, I should have started it yesterday. I feel tired and, of course, fat. I finally got enough sleep last night after not being able to sleep for two nights because I was so mad about this thing with my dad and DL. But I may end up being able to purchase a place anyway. It will only be for half the amount that I would've had, but whatever, at least I will have a piece of property in my name and the value will actually be increasing instead of decreasing like it is right now in the stock market. But I have to say, I think it's ridiculous that she's getting half of my inheritance when she's going to die a few years after him anyway. I should get at least 60%. My grandparents didn't leave me anything directly, it all went into a family trust, which means my dad gets to wield his power and control me because he knows I want a house. And he has all these rules on what the money can be used for. Like, I can't use it to pay for grad school or get breast implants. I can only use it to buy a house and only on his terms. I wish I could just move out of his fucking house and stop having this dictator tell me how selfish I am and how I think everything is about "me, me,me". What a cock-sucking sonofabitch! Seriously - we're all selfish, our own world always revolves around ourselves, even if we don't want to admit it. We spend more time thinking about ourselves than we do anyone else and that's just plain fact. He's just as selfish as anyone else, and I know because he's hoarding all that money pretending like it's all his when I was my grandparents ONLY grandchild and they loved me and I'm sure they meant for some of that money to go to me. So really, my dad is the selfish one, not me. God, it just gets me riled up thinking about it. Usually writing makes me feel better, but I'm just getting more and more angry as I write this. And the worst part is, I can't move out. HAM has a criminal record and I have toilet credit, and together we are the anti-rent poster children. But now my dad doesn't even want HAM living in the MIL apartment in the basement because he could get more rent from someone else, so that means that we'd have to live upstairs in my childhood bedroom, right next to my dad's bedroom. Fuck that noise. I don't know what's going to happen. All I know is I am sick of living with my dad and dealing with him taking pain pills and drinking every day and I hate his attitude toward me as being some incompetent little woman who can't handle money or responsibility. For a long time, he said I could ONLY get a condo because I wouldn't be able to take care of a house. That's also bullshit. I'm just so tired of him knowing everything about my life so he can always give me his opinion. I just want to separate from him and his bitchy, whiny cat and maybe not talk to him for a while so I can make decisions for myself without being clouded by his thoughts on my decisions, or his "suggestions" that seep into my subconscious so deeply that I always end up doing what he wants. He is the number one controller in my life and I've been nice for a long time, always telling him he's right and smart and knows how everything works and I'll just listen to him and do what he says but you know what? It's not me! I can't ever do any goddamn thing without his opinion finding it's way into my brain. I want out of this relationship! I want my money and my freedom, everything else will be up to me, mistakes and all.

I couldn't sleep last night. See, my dad was supposed to move to China in about a year, and before he moved, he and I were going to go in on a house. This way I would have a place to live and he would have a US address, which you apparently need if you are an ex-pat in China. Then his wife got a VISA and came here to visit. Of course she realized that the US is about a zillion times better than China, so now she wants to move here after she retires. And my dad is now saying that he may not move to China at all, but instead will just continue to visit her two months at a time. You know, I went my whole life never thinking that I would own a house. Twenty-nine years I spent thinking I would just rent and that was all I knew, so it was OK. But then my dad tells me this and I've been dreaming about it ever since. I've spent days searching the internet for real estate. I think about it daily, it's one of the things that makes me the happiest. And now what? The bitch is already getting HALF of my inheritance, and now she's ruining my chance to own my own house? She'll probably only outlive him by a few years, and then what? A million dollars goes to her family? Who the fuck are they and why do they deserve my money? Chinese people don't need a million dollars; they live in China. I live in the US and I need that money. I hate this stupid bitch. It's all just some dumb fantasy anyway. My dad always wanted an Asian, and now he's got one and he treats her like a piece of property, like a fucking trophy. It's all just bullshit. I hate them both. I hope she dies first so I'll get all my money.