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 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.

Well I haven't written for the last couple days because I feel like I have nothing to say. I am close to my period and not sleeping well, and of course I am hungrier than usual. Today I ate an ice cream cone with two scoops of ice cream and it was fantastic. I caught up with pretty much my only friend - PH, my old AA sponsor. She's recently separated from her husband has moved into a condo in Juanita, or is in the process of moving. I offered to help her but she said she might just invite me over as a guest, not to help her move. I told her that I'm not sober anymore and of course, she didn't judge me or try to change me, which is why we've always had such a good relationship. She just offered an ear if I ever need to talk to someone or if I am concerned about it and need someone to talk to. It's a pretty wierd thing, to go from having almost four years clean to drinking wine and smoking weed again. I can't say that I feel great about it, but I don't feel like shit either. So far it has had little to no impact on my life, and I think that's about as much space as those things should ever take up in a person's life. Before I got sober and went to AA, I let it run my life. All my decisions were based on drugs and alcohol and keeping my addiction going but under cover. The men I chose to date were always more fucked up than me, my friends were all more fucked up than me, my jobs always sucked so they were easy to just quit without warning and still feel justified in doing so. AA taught me how to be a decent human being, a productive member of society, how to care for someone other than myself without being totally codependent. It also taught me not to put all my eggs in one basket, meaning that, nothing in life can be the answer to all your problems, be it religion, drugs, a job, a person, or AA. For a while there, I let AA be the guiding force in my life, so when that stopped working, I felt like I'd lost a limb. It was extremely painful to be so let down by people I thought so highly of, especially when I needed them so desperately. It wasn't just the people that I needed - I needed structure, guidance, just help in general because I was sad and lost. I prayed more and it didn't help. I tried to get a new sponsor and one girl turned me down, another girl stood me up twice. I tried to make friends with people and they ended up rejecting me. I thought so much of the people in AA, I was brainwashed to believe they were the epitome of reformed derelicts, because I thought I was, too. I went from being a lying, stealing, cheating, selfish bitch, to volunteering every week rain or shine, not talking badly about anyone, helping anyone I could, praying every night, and following through on all my promises and commitments. Not to mention, I was as honest as I could be, wouldn't dream of cheating or stealing. I thought everyone else was as "good" as me. But I wasn't good, I was perfect, and perfect is 1) not sustainable and 2) impossible for anyone else to live up to. So I was just setting myself and everyone I encountered up to fail. And they did. And then I quit AA. But after I let go of AA, my life did start to improve. I stopped praying (something I always felt awkward doing anyway) and went back to being an agnostic with leanings toward karma and past lives. I continued to work out and develop my relationship with HAM. I had some bad habits, too, like the binge eating and the talking to ALL every once in a while, even though I had no intention of ever going back to him (which I made clear whenever I talked to him). But I don't know, all this shit went down with ALL and HAM, and me, and what I want out of life and a relationship, plus the antidepressants and the Ambien, the panic attacks and depression. All this shit just snowballed and reached a crescendo and then dissolved into nothingness and everything was peaceful and the way I always wanted it to be, and then we got high. I don't know if it was because we were trying to cover up some emotional pain, which is what they want you to believe in AA (and it definitely has validity), or if I have just changed. I certainly don't feel like the person I once was before I began AA, before I was sober. I have a great job with a super cool boss and a lot of responsibilty. I am totally trusted and never micromanaged, and I love it. It's perfect for me. And I'm in a relationship with a wonderful guy who always treats me with respect and supports my goals, and vice versa. He's smart and in college and we play scrabble together. I also go play scrabble with my grandma every week, which I love to do, but it's also kind of like volunteering (and I can't think of a better way to volunteer my time than to hang out with my sweet little grandma). My life is drama free and on track. I'm starting the memoir writing course at UW in October, last week I worked out six days in a row, I've been cooking a lot of really fabulous meals, and I like to have a glass of wine or a few hits off the weed pipe in the evening after all of my responsibilties are handled. And I never get drunk, don't even wanna get drunk. I like to sip one glass of excellent red wine over the period of a few hours, and that's all I desire. I don't know if I will switch over from this to being unmanageable and powerless, or if I will remain a casual, light enjoyer of these substances. Is it worth it? Another question I don't know the answer to just yet. Sometimes I think I must be out of my mind to drink or smoke anything, and other times I think, there's just nothing wrong with this, millions of people do the same thing as me with no guilt and no negative consequences. But we live in a guilt-driven society and I am product of it, AA being even more guilt-driven than regular society. But the fact is, I got sober because of ALL, and I'm thankful to him for shifting my life that way, but maybe my problem was more related to childhood pain that has since been worked through. I don't feel resentful or angry toward either of my parents or the other parental figures from my past. I am an adult now, I am responsible, and in a healthy relationship, working on my professional goals at work and with writing on my own time. Life is good, and playing scrabble stoned is a total blast. If shit gets out of hand, hopefully I'll have the the awareness that it's out of hand, and the respect for myself to cut it out.

Lately I don't even know what to write about. I feel like crap today because I drank three beers last night, which was way too much for me. I'm such a lightweight now. There was a time when three beers would've been an appetizer for me. I was drinking like cases of beer back in the day. Well, I don't know if it was really cases, but it was a shit ton of beer, just sucking them down like fruit punch. But now, three beers gets me pretty loopy and feeling like ass the next day. I still went to counseling this morning, then work, then the gym where I did personal training and cardio, and now back to work again. So I'm not fucking up as far as my responsibilities go, but as far as my general well-being, I'm fucking up. It's just not worth it. It's not that fun. For instance, last night, HAM and I were watching the first episode of Mad Men, and int this episode, one of the guys tells his fiancee, "Of course I love you, I'm giving up my life to be with you, aren't I?" This made HAM laugh, so I jumped on him immediately and gave him a hard time the rest of the night for laughing at this guy's joke about marriage being a trade-in for your life. HAM knows I want to get married. Ever since we first met and he asked me what I wanted, I said I wanted to get married. He said he didn't believe in marriage, and he explained to me that he didn't need the government interfering in his personal life. I understand that. I don't need that, either, but I still want to be married. It doesn't have to be legally bound, that's really not the point for me. I just want the commitment. I want him to declare his undying love for me and make a promise to stay with me no matter what. I don't need the court document, I just need the personal statement during a ceremony where I get to wear a pretty dress and there are witnesses, like his mother. So for me, when he jokes about marriage being the end of his life, I take it seriously. I'm a good girl. I'm pretty, funny, smart, and I'm a great cook. I mean, I have my flaws like anyone, but as far as girls go, there's lots of guys who would feel lucky to have me, and I think HAM should want to marry me before someone else tries to steal me away. There's these two guys who work in the same office park as my counselor, and every time I walk by, they always stare at me. Today, they finally decided to say hello to me and I found out that they work for an engineering recruiting firm that allows them to travel to several different countries. They are both young men, fine looking, with careers, and I know they think I'm cute. Of course, I'm not interested in these guys, I love HAM and only want to be with HAM, but the point is, it's not like I'm some loser that no one else would want. I'm attractive to people. And once they finally talk to me, they discover that I'm not a bimbo, I'm actually interesting to talk to and funny and not at all stuck up. I'm someone that guys want to get to know. And HAM is young. He's only 24 and I'm 31, so I worry he's not ready to commit to me, and I could spend years with him waiting for him to want to get married, and in the end he decides he wants more experience or I'm not right for him, and he leaves me when my expiration date has long since passed. In a lot of people's eyes, my expiration date already passed since I'm over 30 (for some men, 25 is the cut off). It's not that I believe in these expiration dates - I think they're offensive - but they're a reality for a lot of people. Women's stock goes down as steadily as men's stock goes up. As men progress throughout their lives, working their way up corporate ladders or what have you, they continue to increase their value to the opposite sex, meanwhile, women get older and accumulate more fat, wrinkles, and gray hair, making them less and less valuable with every passing day. It is sad, but it is a fact that cannot be denied and it is true in almost every culture. Men are visual creatures and they desire beautiful women. It may not be all that matters, but the fact is, it does matter. HAM loves the way I look today. He loves my big butt and small waist, he loves my makeup and hair and he loves my tan and nails. I can keep up a lot of this stuff, but there is the inevitable aging process that will change the shape of my body, turn my hair gray, and produce fine lines and wrinkles on my face. I want him to love me enough to love me when I'm old. I want him to look at me and not just see a hot chick with a nice ass, but I beautiful woman who he wants to grow old with, who he loves so much that I would be beautiful to him no matter how many years have passed or how many gray hairs I have. I have been with people who have said they felt that way about me before, and I don't really know if it was true or not, but I know there are some men out there who truly love their middle-aged or elderly wives, and I think I deserve a man that loves me that much, too. A man who doesn't see my gray hair or wrinkles, but sees the real me and thinks I'm amazing, stunning, and the only girl he'd ever want. That's how I see him. I imagine him twenty years from now, HAM the man instead of HAM the baby. I see him being just as sexy, if not more so. I see him always being the guy I want to be with more than anyone else in the world, no matter if he develops a gut or stays in perfect shape. Whether he loses his pretty blonde hair or keeps it. I don't care, because I love him as a person, not as a good-looking person. I've never even been with a good-looking guy before I met him. All my boyfriends were toothless, fat, or bald. Or all three. I don't care about looks on a man. I care more about their sense of humor than anything else. I need someone who makes me laugh, and who thinks I'm funny, too. HAM does that, too. He thinks men are always funnier than women, as I've mentioned before, but he does think I'm funny, and I think he's funny, too. But I do have this fear that he'll only love me as long as I'm pretty, and one day if I'm not pretty enough, he'll either stay with me out of obligation but long for someone younger and more attractive, or he'll just leave me. Because when I met him I was physically perfect and since then I've gained like seven pounds. My stomach isn't perfectly flat anymore and I've had months of being pale instead of tan, or I've been too poor to afford to get my nails done so they grow out and look ratty for a while. I'm just afraid how I look is extremely important to him because I looked perfect when he met me and he's really into physical appearance. He loves Katy Perry and he was totally into the idea of my getting breast implants (which didn't pan out partly because of cost, and partly because I read all of the literature that they give you when you go in for a consultation and it scared the crap out of me). Katy Perry has those giant milky globes and I have just slightly more than a twelve-year-old. I often joke that I should shop in the training bra section. So I don't know, maybe I'm just insecure, as my counselor says. I know I'm insecure, but I don't think it's all in my head, I think HAM really has an aversion to unattractive women and wouldn't want me if I was fat or ugly. And I can control fat, and I'm not ugly, but I can't stop time. I will get old, I have no say in the matter. I just hope he'll fall more in love with me and see me as beautiful as I get older instead of just old. I know I have an expiration date, I just hope he'll still want to drink me once I've gone sour.

I got home from the gym a little while ago and since then I have taken a shower, got dressed and did my makeup, took out the trash, recycling, and compost, done the dishes, wiped down the kitchen counters, and taken my vitamins. Not to mention that when I first got home I smoked a little weed and ate some waffles. Back when I was the old me, living in that nasty house on the highway in Nice, CA, I used to be one of those stoners who couldn't do shit. I'd just sit there and eat and surf the internet. Or drink and surf the internet. I couldn't exercise, pay a bill, make dinner, clean the house, or clean myself. I was a waste product. Needless to say, I felt like a loser. Today, I figure, if I smoke weed, it's okay, as long as I am still a functioning human being who is able to take care of business. I've found that I've actually become more productive stoned than I do just normally. I used to tell myself I couldn't write stoned, and it was probably just an excuse I told myself so I didn't have to write. Or exercise. Although I wouldn't exercise stoned because that would just be counterintuitive, I also wouldn't let it come before a work out. Nothing comes between me and the gym. I'm there rain or shine, heartache or bursting at the seems with love, whether I'm angry, depressed, way too full from over eating, sick, or in pain. I always go. I can't imagine anything other than HAM being as important as the gym. I guess school. School takes even more time than the gym and balancing the two is difficult. I don't know how HAM does everything that he does. He'll make a good marketing executive someday, or whatever he decides to do. I remember back in my senior year of college, I was newly married, in school full time, working part time, applying to grad schools, and smoking crack on the weekends. I mean, not every single weekend, but if it wasn't crack, I was getting drunk, popping Xanax and Oxycontin, snorting cocaine, or even dropping ectasy. Who knows how I made it through all of that with my degree and a 3.9 GPA. Of course I didn't get into grad school, and I'm sure it was because I was delusional from the drugs. But I still accomplished a lot while I was handling a million other things. So I wonder, was it not being accepted to grad school that really pushed me over the edge as far as "partying", or was it just the natural progression of addiction? In AA, they say that's what happens - you can never maintain. One is too many and a thousand is never enough. I guess I don't know yet. I do know the year before I quit drinking and getting high was the worst year of my life. I definitely don't want to end up back there again. So maybe that's why I become so overly productive, trying to prove to myself that It's different this time. But is it worth it? Because if I am truly an addict, this won't stay manageable. It will become unmanageable and I'll have to stop. If it turns out I was just misguided and had some impermanent dependency issues, then I guess I could go on forever feeling satisfied with a little evening weed smoking and one glass of wine. That would be fine. Honestly, I don't know why I ever liked getting drunk. It's much better to just slowly sip one glass of fabulous wine than "get fucked up". I don't like being out of control, doing and saying things I normally wouldn't do and say, and waking up feeling like shit, dehydrated and ashamed. No thank you. One is just right, actually. I don't ever feel like I'm stopping myself from having more. All I care for is one, and then I feel done. Damn, AA really fucks a person't head up, doesn't it? It's so weird, because AA helps so many people, but it's also a brainwashing cult. It's just that the brainwashing helps a lot of people. But it hurts people, too. It hurt me and I've heard stories about others. I guess I just don't have the answers on this. I guess I'll just have to watch and see what happens, and hope it's nothing I'll regret.

Today was good. I worked an extra hour than usual and I got my paycheck. I got my nails done for a pretty good price and I got dark green french tips. They look beautiful. But Thursday sucked. I've always wanted to be a nude model. Not a pornographic-style nude, but nude art - painting or photography, it's just something I've always wanted to do and do before I get too old. So I found a person on line who's local and his photographs are very artistic and beautiful. I emailed him about modeling and he said I could send some clothed photos of myself so he can see if he's interested. I mentioned all of this to HAM and he did what he always does when he's mad; nothing. He just turns silent and then I have to keep bugging him until he finally tells me what his problem is. This time, it was that he felt like I was doing something behind his back. Then he said that all those male photographers just want to sleep with their subjects.  He said, "You want some dude to take nude pictures of you?" as if I was going to some back alley motel so some dude with a camera could snap dirty pictures of me and sell them on a porn website. So we started fighting and the truth came out. It had little to do with nude modeling, and everything to do with the whole thing that recently happened with ALL. He hasn't said much about it since it happened, but it finally came out on thursday that he thinks about it frequently and it disgusts him and he doesn't know if he will ever forgive me. I tried to explain that my wanting to leave him for my abusive ex-fiance had much more to do with  medication that with my heart's desire. When I left ALL in February 2010, I knew I would NEVER be with him again. I wasn't attracted to him anymore and had no desire to try to fix his broken ass ever again. But then, a year later, I'm dealing with the worst insomnia of my life, as well as an awful binge-eating disorder. So first, I try every natural sleeping rememdy known to man and none of them work. Then I try Ambien, and it's like a miracle drug. The problem is, I don't actually have a prescription for it, I'm taking my Dad's Ambien (which he knew about - I wasn't stealing it from him). So I go to my doc and try to get a script for it since it's the only thing that works, and the doc tried about a zillion other sleep aids but refuses to give me Ambien. So I continue taking my Dad's supply, and start to become depressed. The binge eating gets worse, I'm having freaky nightmare almost every night, and still can only sleep for four hours at a time. So I get on anti-depressants and my initial reaction to them is anxiety, panic attacks, and worsening depression...but they stop the binge-eating, so I stick it out. Meanwhile, my ex gets a hold of me after we hadn't spoken in a long time, and he's telling me he loves me and would do anything for me, and I'm desperately trying to get HAM to say this to me. I want to know where the relationship is going and he keeps saying, "I can't predict the future." No "I love you and want to be with you forever," just, "I can't predict the future." So I get more wrapped up in ALL telling me what I want to hear, and even though I know I don't want to be with ALL, I feel attached to him because I want to hear, "I love you" from someone since I'm depressed, anxious, and crying nonstop every day. Then ALL disappears. His phone is disconnected, his Facebook page is deleted - he's just gone. And then I feel so alone, and HAM doesn't love me, and doesn't want to be with me, or isn't sure, and I start feeling desperate to get this attention from someone, so a month later when ALL reappears and says he still loves me and wants to be with me, I actually consider it. Then I confess all of this to HAM, he talks me out of going back to ALL, tells me he loves me and wants to marry me and have babies with me (one day) and then I feel hurt. I feel like, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me any of this before?" And I'd spent so much time talking myself out of loving him or imagining a future with him, that it became difficult for me to just change my mind. But I finally did change my mind. I adjusted to the antidepressants and got off Ambien FOREVER (thank god), but in the process, I hurt ALL, I hurt HAM, and I hurt myself. HAM and I fell madly in love, I cut ALL completely out of the picture, and everything was bliss and fun and love until thursday, when I found out that it wasn't all bliss and fun and love. There is still pain and uncertainty for HAM, and I don't blame him at all. So I spent the whole day crying and feeling like shit about what I terrible person I have been. But, to my credit, I have spent every day since HAM and I committed to eachother trying to be the best girlffriend I can be. I cook, I clean, I wear lingerie, I got my nails done with french tips (his favorite), I give him rides and pick him up whenever I can, I brought him lunch today, we have sex pretty much daily, and I spend as much time with him as I can. But apparently, all of that doesn't compare to being betrayed. And some of the things I said to him were so hurtful and I'm so embarrassed, but I swear it was the Ambien making me crazy! But even if it was the Ambien, the words were still hurtful, my actions were still hurtful, and I can't take any of it back. It happened and now I have to live with the consequences, which could end up meaning that I lose the man I love and hope to be with forever.  I hope he decides to forgive me and forget that part of our past, but if he doesn't, I have to somehow accept that and move on. God, I'm such a douchebag sometimes. In honor of my douchbaggedness, here is one of my favorite songs: