Horatio says he loves you all, and it’s been so much fun. Also, due to this fun fluke, my email address is also no longer valid.  If you wish to say hello, check up on me, or see if I’ve moved on to greener bloggy pastures, feel free to email me at the following:

0oj6sh302@sneakemail.com

Like I wouldn’t mask my address, heh.  But rest assured, I will get anything you send to that address, and more than likely respond.

Anyway, keep it real, people.  I will be. Because that’s how I roll… in a very real fashion.  Yes.

This time last year I was unemployed, and rather depressed about it.  Patrick and I had only been together for a little under four months.  We were living in Beltsville, Maryland, which is Spanish for “Liz was wasting away in the suburbs, and about to die!”  Our little Horatio had only been with us for about two weeks.

Since then, quite a bit has happened.

1. Patrick and I got engaged two weeks after the blog started.
2. We moved to Washington DC.
3. I worked for an adult kickball league, but their disorganized antics scared me off.  Even the lovely salary and the ability to work from home couldn’t keep me there.
4. I started working at my current position in August, and have been here for the past happy eight months.
5. Patrick and I celebrated our first BIG family Christmas together.  For Christmas 2007, we had been together for a total of 20 days, I believe?  It wasn’t a big to do.  This past Christmas we traveled from DC to the Eastern Shore of Maryland to Alexandria, VA, with Horatio in tow.
6. I started back to school, pursuing a Bachelor’s in Communications, because apparently working full time and wedding planning wasn’t enough for my plate.  I like a challenge.
7. We moved again, from our hellhole in Capitol Hill (it’s sad how nice apartments can be ruined by bad management) to our glorious apartment in Glover Park.  Can we say lots of natural light and a kitchen island?  Yes we can! 
8. Survived a rather scary layoff at work.
9. We expanded our family with another dog.  This time a rescue.  A miniature dachshund, named Clover.  
10. Repaired a friendship.
11. I Made new friends.

I’m sure this year will be no different, as we have quite a bit on the horizon.  I remember when I moved back home at the end of 2007 thinking to myself that I was going to take 2008 to relax and restore my energy.  2007 was quite the bear.  Obviously that did not happen.  Then I remember thinking after 2008, with all the moving around and upheaval (most of it positive!), that I would instead try to make 2009 a year to recuperate.  Well, as mentioned, we kicked off this year with me going back to school and us moving again.  

Oh well. 

I feel that while this year has been a year of new beginnings, it is also a year of atoning for sins of the past.  Whether it’s attempting to mend badly burned bridges, or returning to school to finally get the degree I failed at the first (second, and third) time around, I’ve finally stopped running, which is what I have spent the past several years doing.

The thing is though, when you actually stop, some of the things you have ignored catch up.  It’s not a bad thing, although it can be a bit overwhelming.

I’ve finally started paying off some rather embarrassing debts.  I’ve made some long overdue apologies, which is very tough.

I think one of the major issues I had in my younger years was an inability to take responsiblity.  I was an ostrich, burying my head in the sand, hoping whatever crisis loomed above would soon pass.  

Even better, I would be the one to set a house on fire, and then complain incessantly about how hot it was.

I could displace blame and responsiblity like it was my job, and unfortunately, for a number of years, I basically acted like it was my job.  

Now I’m 26 years old, paying for the mistakes of my idiotic 19 through 25 year old self.  While experiencing a timewarp that is mapped out by previous mistakes biting me in the proverbial ass is a rather cringe-inducing, it’s been satisfying to slowly tick off things I have accomplished.

Paid off $600?  Check!

Apologized for being a self-involved pity-partying douchette? Ugh, check.

Even though some items are not always fun, I think it’s really helped to face things head on.  Even if some apologies are not accepted, or the time I spend waiting for a response is filled with agitation and anxiety, I think it’s worth it to finally be honest with myself and others.

My father said something that has always stuck with me, and I’m sure he was quoting something, but I have no idea where it’s from: “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”  Now, that is not to imply that my father was a religious fanactic.  Quite the contrary.  The moral of his story was that, for example, you may have had the best intentions to pay your rent on time, and you may be a good person, but does your landlord care?  Not really.

You may have the saddest sob story in the whole world, but the real world does not care about your problems.  Think of the world like a really large DMV office.  You can cry and cry and cry about how you SWORE you had the right form with you today, and you promise it IS filled out!  You swear!  

Doesn’t matter!  They might even express compassion and sympathy, but you still have to come back tomorrow to wait for another 3 hours.  You should have remembered your paperwork.

This wasn’t a concept I was very good at up until… it’s sad to say, probably only the last year and a half or so.  Even if the first six months of my “transformation to good!” phase was marked by significant trial and error.  

Whoops.

My only fear is that, with some people, I have practically drowned them in a sea of apologies andd declarations of reformations in my character and/or way of life.  I would spout off all the life lessons I thought I had learned (and hadn’t) in long emails that bordered on pedantic.  

While I know deep down that this time things are very different, I cannot expect that everyone will draw the same conclusion.  That’s something else I’ve come to peace with: consequences of my actions.  To many, in spite of my own personal evolutions, I still may still sound like Same Old Liz.

One can only say sorry so many times, right?

In the end, though, I feel good.  The nerves, the anxiety, and the rather demoralizing calls to some collectors are worth it, because for once I feel in control of my own life.  Instead of complaining about how life was happening to me, I’m actually taking charge.

What’s amazed me the most, because my irresponsible ass of yore didn’t seem to get this concept, is the more I take control of, the easier things get.

Okay, I’m bordering on self-help book language here, so I’m going to move on.

This year?  I’m getting married.  This year?  I’m trying to right the wrongs of the past, no matter what the reception may be.  This year?  I’m probably going to have to endure putting my mother in a home.  I’ve spent the past year pretending that some parts of her had changed, but they hadn’t.  She isn’t taking care of herself, and I’m bracing for the resentment and subsequent fallout, which are sadly inevitable.  That’s a post for another time, however.

Who knows what else.  Every time I go into a year thinking I know what’s going to happen, I’m either wrong, or there’s a lot more down the pike that I never bargained for.  I guess we’ll see a year from now what I’ll be recapping, aside from an awesome Old Town wedding.

No way of telling now, but I’m very excited.

Who knew a blog anniversary could be so deep?  Or maybe the better question is, “Wow, does Liz really buy her own b.s.?”

Global Playground’s Night Under the Stars 2009, a charity event. Went with the lovely Lexi (plus her beau) and Christine.

Clover likes helping me in the kitchen.

Homemade pigs in a blanket, with from scratch dough. (Hence some of the prep above.) I practice elevated and sophisticated cuisine, obviously.

Horatio and Clover, playing tug of war.  For those of you who know Horatio, aka the Furry Monster, you know he’s not the largest dog in the world.  He may be about 30 pounds, but he’s merely small and stocky.  Clover, by contrast, is tiny. But they’re cute. Aren’t they?

Other than the outing on Friday evening (which was just out of this world), it was a very lazy weekend.  Patrick and I started out our weekend with our weekly brunch.  We’re complete brunch junkies, and every week we try out a new place in DC for lunch, and then we judge. Harshly.  So far Nathan’s in Georgetown is the favorite, although the view at Sequoia (Washington Harbor) is insane.

This week we went to J. Paul’s in Georgetown.

Eggs Maryland. Basically an Eggs Benedict with crabmeat.

The verdict?  Alright, but bland overall.  I’m not the pickiest eater, but seriously I felt that, at the end of the meal, I was full for absolutely no good reason.  The whole thing felt really creamy and rather tastless, although they seem to know how to poach eggs better than the chefs at Sequoia, so points there.  (At Sequoia, one of my eggs was perfect, and the other was pretty much cooked through and solid.)  Another highlight was their J. Paul’s Ale, their house beer. Really good.  Two thumbs up.

After that, we retreated to the apartment.  It was a soggy windy day, so we stayed in, watched movies, and played with the pooches.  Sunday was much of the same, but due to the beautiful weather, we threw open the windows, turned up some spring-y/summer-y music (hello, “Summertime” by Kenny Chesney), cleaned the apartment, and I cooked.

* * * *

This past Friday, I also finished a really great book:

For those of you unfamiliar with Christopher Buckley, (A) he’s my favorite author, and (B) he’s a political satirist and humorist, whose novels are as smart as they are hilarious.  He also used to be a speechwriter for former President Bush Senior, back in the days of yore, hence his “finger on the pulse of DC” tone, at times.

The book is actually a “walking tour” of Washington DC, which is not what I expected when I opened it up.  I love him so much that I literally bought this book without any knowledge as to what the book was about.

I live dangerously.

The author, from the first person narrative, takes us around DC on various “walks” while imparting historical facts, ranging from the interesting to the even more interesting to the “Wow! You’ve got to be kidding me!”, all while maintaining his usual off the cuff smugness, which he can get away with because he’s funny, and he’s Christopher Buckley.  He’s allowed, because he’s engaging.

While I did grow up in and around Washington DC, I am aware that there are many things I do not know about the city, but I was surprised at how much I learned from this book.  It’s worth the read, just on that account.

What I didn’t expect, however, was during one the last “walks” (how the book was divided up) to be left rather teary.  The author, while many things, isn’t one who generally tugs at the heart strings.

One of the stops on this walk was the Arlington National Cemetery, where he imparted how not only brave men, but also brave women made this their final resting place.

In Section 8 [of the Arlington National Cemetery] you’ll find the gave of Marie Therese Rossi, Major, US Army.  Her stone reads:

FIRST FEMALE COMBAT COMMANDER TO FLY INTO BATTLE
OPERATION DESERT STORM

Below that it says: “In memory of my sweet little wife, whose beauty could only be outlived by my love for her.”

Cue the waterworks, right?

Either way, a surprisingly good read.  It’s not that I wasn’t expecting a great book, but it was just a surprising gem.  Highly recommended.

1.  Quitting smoking is one of the best things I’ve done for myself as of late.  Getting glasses and updating my wardrobe was great and all, but becoming a quitter is just tops.  The only thing that really makes me crazy (and they don’t tell you this) is that I get the same bad “side effects” of smoking WITHOUT smoking, and it’s worse.  I have the coughs and the painful chest.  My throat sometimes, like today, feels raw, like when I used to go on my pack a day benders while living in Ft. Lauderdale.  Thankfully this all passes, and I know it’s worth it.  In the interim, however, I am not pleased.

2.  I saw the neatest book while cruising around a bookstore in Dupont Circle this past weekend.  The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood.  It’s the story of The Odyssey told from the perspective of Penelope, Odysseus’ wife.  Neat, right?  Sadly I cannot justify the purchase, as my “to read” pile is getting higher and higher by the day.

3. So, in the summer of 2007, I had glasses.  In the summer of 2007, I also had a puppy with The Ex, who literally thought these specs were not, in fact, optical aids for yours truly.  No, no! They were The Best Chew Toy Ever (TM).  This past weekend, I finally went for an eye exam, and on Tuesday, I received my new pair of glasses.  They’re a bit on the chunky black glasses for emo kids side, but I love them.  Not only that, I love being able to see.

4. As a result of my newfound vision, I finally get what the big deal is about HD television.  I’m not speaking in hyperbole.  Pre-being able to see, I could see the television alright, but I couldn’t see the difference between HD and non-HD. Now that I can, my whole world is changed.  I also learned that Obama has very large pores. (His press conference was the first thing I watched with glasses.)

5. Right now, I’m in the midst of my Adult Developmental Psychology class.  Ironically I thought this would be a class that I love.  I kind of do, but I also kind of hate it with a fiery passion that could heat 1000 suns.  I always thought I would be very into psychology, and while the theory is nice, I find a lot of it to be common sense.  In addition, I’m not a huge fan of how I have to delve into all the not so fun facts about my history for my papers.  Granted, I could gloss over some things or outright lie, but then I wouldn’t be doing the assignments properly.  Whatever, I only have a week left of these shenanigans, and then it’s back to stuff that makes sense: writing!  I think I’ll be sticking with concrete things like writing, history, and literature.

6.  So, in the past few weeks, I have joined the 20th century.  (No, that’s not a typo.)  I got a Netflix account, a paypal account, and even an eBay account.  I’m so hip and now, I know.  This whole Netflix thing is great, though, in case you didn’t know.  Their WATCH INSTANTLY option has made my CSI: NY addiction return like gangbusters. I spent most of yesterday dying on the couch, watching CSI: NY Season Three, when I wasn’t passed out, and probably drooling on myself.

7. In other embarrassing news, I ordered Legally Blonde the other day.  It will be arriving soon.  When it does, I will relive my senior year of high school, and all its glory.  I will also be singing along to “Perfect Day” by Hoku because I have no shame, I love that movie, and I’m sad it took me this long to buy it.

8.  Slight change of plans for my Masters, which I know is a long way away, but I like to have my goals in sight.  Instead of history, I’m going to continue on my communications track.  Thank you, American University, for providing me with yet another Masters program over which I shall drool profusely, with reckless abandon.  For the click-averse, it’s a Public Communications Masters.  The great thing is that I’ll be able to take all of my courses on Saturdays, once I get to that point.  Hopefully 2011?

9.  So, I got angry with my Samsung Omnia cell phone.  Seriously it’s the most counter-intuitive and annoying phone on the planet.  At first, it’s amazing, and then all of these quirks reveal themselves, and they’re not the cute “I’m in love in an Indie movie!” quirks.  Storage issues, non-reactive touchscreen, plain weird, etc.  I don’t know why I didn’t do this the first time around, when I had to replace my phone a month ago, but I returned the Samsung, and it exchanged it for a Blackberry Storm.  I couldn’t be happier with my choice.  I have returned to the land of Blackberries, where all is happy and gay. The keyboard is wonderful, although it takes a little practice to get the hang of it.  No more than any other touch screen, though.

10.  Tonight is book club.  There will be margaritas.  I’m jonesing.

For now, I have a ton of pictures and a lot to document.

Friday evening was a celebration for Heidi‘s liberation from her hell job, and she seems to be well on her way to a life of being successfully self-employed.  A few of us met up at the Capitol Hill Club for a nice happy hour.  Patrick and I spent a little time at Heidi and Adam’s afterward, gabbing and hanging around.  It was a nice way to start the weekend.

Shayna arrived on Saturday morning.  Like I said, I’ll cover the new pooch tomorrow, so right onto that evening.

Saturday, we were invited by Adam and Heidi to attend a big church throwdown for St. Patrick’s Day at St. Peter’s in Capitol Hill, complete with food, free bottomless beer, and Irish Step Dancers.  The lovely Magda was there, as well. It was so much fun.  Lots of fun conversation, the beer and food was tasty, and the dancing was so neat!

Afterward, we all headed out for burgers at Tune Inn, in Capitol Hill. It was fabulous. Cheap beer on tap.  Good company.  Even a Northeastern hockey game on tv.  Later, we parted ways, and Shayna and I ended our evening (as Patrick snoozed) with some wine and a viewing of “Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind”.

I should note here that on our way home, I severely hurt myself. In that I am almost sure I have fractured my ankle and potentially part of my foot.  Walking is absolute torture. After limping around all weekend, I am finally succumbing to Patrick’s demands to see a doctor tomorrow.  It was so embarrassing, too.  Out in the middle of Dupont Circle on a Saturday night… one of those oh-so dramatic falls that ended with me, arms outstretched on the ground.  It was awful.  I’m an ass.

Due to my injury, sadly, our plans to join a few ladies on a winery tour were dashed to the wind. Instead, Shayna and I had a nice girl’s day, in spite of the rainy weather. Originally we were going to check out the Phillips Collection, an art gallery here in DC, but decided against that. Well, originally we stopped into a little bake shop (Firehook in Dupont Circle) for coffee before the art gallery, but that quickly evolved into us grabbing lattes, snacks, and gabbing for a few hours. It was really nice, and I think a much needed detour, where I think we both got to talk about a lot of things that had been on our mind, regarding our lives.  In short, it was great to finally catch up.  And there was something a bit movie-esque about sitting in a cafe on a rainy day.  Platonically romantic, even.

Soon we realized we needed to dash, as we had dinner reservations to make, and we needed to get back and get gussied up. We, of course, got sidetracked in a bookstore in Dupont Circle called Kramerbooks, but it was still fun.

Bourbon Steak is the relatively new Michael Mina (renowned chef) restaurant at the Four Seasons in DC.

This gem of an evening was the idea of Shayna, who had secretly placed reservations prior to her arrival, in the hopes I would agree to her idea. I am so glad I did. The meal seriously is the centerpiece of the trip, I think. I have to admit I was a little skeptical when fries were brought out as a complimentary starter, but I was blown away. The flank steak was out of this world, although Shayna’s filet mignon could have been a bit better. The sides were perfection. The buttered truffle rolls… oh my goodness.   They did seem to enjoy mentioning repeatedly how their fries were made with duck fat, but it was okay, because as I mentioned… delish!

Aside from the wonderful food, the service was excellent, as well.  Seriously, I highly recommend it if you’re willing to splurge.  It was a singular fun experience.

We stayed there for about three hours, and our waiter was fabulous, telling us about the places he had served before in New York, etc. I have to admit, we felt a little bit like rockstars. Not because of attention or anything, but it was so fun to go out with my best friend, be rather extravagant, and just enjoy great food, great wine, and great company. (Good call, Shayna!)

We finally made it home around midnight. Watched “Anchorman” and fell asleep.

This morning we slept in. Luckily I did not have to be at work today. It was so needed. I woke up to two snoozing pooches (Miss Clover and Mr. Horatio), and the realization that Shayna was leaving today.

Our last stop was a reservation I had made at Cafe Bonaparte, near our apartment, in Georgetown. They specialize in sweet and savory crepes, and have a lovely French cafe menu.

It was really really good. Really good. So good that I’ve already preemptively made another reservation for Thursday night for Patrick and myself.   Seriously, the cappuccino was out of this world.  I was so jealous I hadn’t ordered myself a cup, but Shayna let me sneak a few sips.

We people watched and enjoyed ourselves. It was a nice way to sort of wind down the weekend, although it was kind of sad, knowing that she’d be leaving soon.

Following lunch, we putzed around Georgetown, going into stores where we couldn’t afford the wares, etc, heh. It was rather lovely… but eventually we had to head back, and soon Shayna was on her way out the door, heading to BWI airport. Sadness.

Now I’m at home on the couch, with my ailing foot propped up, two sleeping pooches, and a sweet fiance.  Granted, I have about eight million pounds of homework to do before I go to bed tonight, and really I should stop looking at Masters programs at DC schools and focus on my current degree, but what do I know?

Back to work tomorrow. Probably going to end up with a cast on my gimpy food.  So sad.

On my way home from work last night, as I made my way to my bus stop, along 22nd Street NW, I came upon something that made me excited.  It was a used book shop.  Well, I am lying.  I actually saw it yesterday, as they had stacks and stacks of book out on the sidewalk, on display.  I resisted, but that only lasted until yesterday evening.

I walked out with two acquisitions for our library:

In case you couldn’t tell, I love US History.  (Shhh! Don’t tell!)  I’m so happy, because I bought those two beauties for only $9.  In this new bookstore, I realized all of my dreams were possible.  I knew I was home when I walked through the door, only to find the US History section immediately to my left, beckoning me into a big literary hug with its clumsy bookcase arms.  (I do like to personify inanimate objects. What of it?)

It came to me, how dangerous this bookstore will be, when I noticed it wasn’t just a regular ol’ bookstore. It was a Books for America outpost.  It’s an organization with the following goal: “Building and improving libraries in Washington, DC area schools, shelters, hospitals and more; supporting reading programs; and providing children in the Nation’s Capital with their first take-home books!”

As if I needed another reason to blow money there.

At least now I have a good excuse for those nights where I randomly come home with books, when I should have spent the money elsewhere.  (Dog food, cell phone bill, Metro fare for work.) 

When Patrick got on my case for irresponsibly buying books, I could just say, “Well, what about the children, Patrick?! And the libraries! I suppose you don’t care about them?”

It’s the perfect plan.  I’ll be broke, but it’s the perfect plan.

Man, life was so much easier when I was younger and didn’t appreciate books.  It was a life where books were dead to me, unless there was a corresponding movie adaptation.  Now I want to “learn” and “expand my horizons”.  What a crock.

Friday night was an absolute blast.  Patrick kicked it with Adam, while I went over to Jessica‘s for a girl’s night with Jen (her maid of honor).  Wine, Thai food (Jessica, I owe you dinner!), and really fun conversation.  We all started crashing early, and I ended my evening trying to watch Smart People, courtesy of Netflix Instant.  Instead, Patrick came home to find me in bed, fast asleep, with my face planted on my laptop, movie still going.

I still need to finish that movie.

Saturday was an early start for us.  Peapod delivered our multitude of groceries, before we went to Virginia to pick up my mom.  Her visit was a lot of fun.  I made steak fajitas for everyone.  Mom and I then spent a good portion of the time watching Sleepless in Seattle, while chatting over some wine.  I felt like such a bad daughter, because somehow we managed to have not seen her since Christmas.  Thankfully she was understanding.  We drove mom home, and then hopped a cab back to the city.

The cab we got was a party cab. Seriously, the guy blasted the BeeGees and old school Michael Jackson.  We spent the whole way back to our neighborhood, singing and dancing in what I have dubbed the Fun Bus.  The driver gave us his card, and I’m seriously considering calling him for some wedding services.  Best minivan ride ever.

Patrick and I had a nice relaxing Saturday evening.  We made strawberry daiquiris with the blender my mother gave us (it’s incredible), and I made quesadillas, in keeping with my Mexican theme for the day.  We did a ton of laundry, because that’s what nerds do on a Saturday night and watched TV.  It was a really nice night in.

Sunday, Patrick and I had an amazing brunch at Sequoia, which is at Washington Harbor.  I was excited to take Patrick there, because he grew up in and around Annapolis.  I thought the views and atmosphere might give him a little slice of home, with a kick of DC in there.  I was right!

This photo was not taken by me. Thank you, Google Images.  This is one part of the view, plus we were outside on the upper deck, not looking through a window, as in the above picture.

Here’s another view. That’s the outside area where we were sitting, and another shot of the view. That’s the Kennedy Center near the mid-part of the picture, and there’s a tiny sliver of the Watergate (for you non-DC people) to the left of the tree. Very exciting.

It was a really gorgeous picture-perfect day, which of course meant that I completely forgot my camera.  It’s silly, but we try to do something like this every week, whether it’s going out to brunch or going somewhere fun together.  It was very romantic and sweet.  We talked about everything and anything.  There was even a point where we were just sitting there, holding each other’s hand across a table.  It was lovely.  Also, the crabcake benedict? Delish!

Later that afternoon, after brunch (and getting sucked into looking at puppies at an adoption drive), we met up with Patrick’s friend, Terry, to see The Watchmen, at the Uptown:

Once again, sadly not my photo.

It was a lot of fun.  I love that movie theater.  The last time I had been to this theater was when The Empire Strikes Back was re-released.  In fact, that was the first time I had ever seen that, because when I was little, the snow monster at the beginning of the movie scared me.  Even though I loved the Star Wars trilogy, I refused to watch it.  I got to see my now favorite installment of that, for the first time ever, on the big screen.  Quite the treat.

I digress!

The Watchmen, in a word, was incredible.  And for those who have seen it, the opening sequence was unreal, wasn’t it?!  (Also, it was nice to see my other Patrick on the big screen, heh.)  The gore was a bit much at times.  Seriously, special effects are just getting too good, nowadays, but then again, this is a dark comic.  It definitely toes the gratuitous line, however.  It wasn’t the violence, but the slow-motion shots of bones snapping, etc.  Actually only one real scene involving that sticks out; when Lori and Nite Owl were kicking the collective butt of a gang that followed them into an alley.  Some of the close-ups made me want to die, but I’m a girl, so what do I know?

Overall, like I said, walked out very happy and jazzed up like I get after seeing a good movie.

We went home, and I made steak salad for dinner, which was so tasty.  We also had our home visit last night for Clover, which we thought went well.  For a reminder:

We received the verdict this morning as to whether everything was approved for the adoption.  We’re picking her up on Saturday! The little poochie is ours! I’m so happy!  Yay!

I also did some much needed Liz shopping this weekend, because my wardrobe is dwindling fast, between shrinking too much for some of the clothes I have now, and others just wearing out:

I also finally got a new pair of shoes, as well. These in brown.  I know you’re all positively thrilled to know what I have purchased over the weekend, but frankly it’s nice to know I have some actual clothing on the way, because I’m on the verge of looking like a hobo.  It’s sad that it took me this long to finally start getting around to replacing clothing from the flood last Thanksgiving.

Also, thanks to Laura, I purchased a new bracelet, for a good cause. Check it out. Good cause, courtesy of an awesome girl.

Now I’m here! At work!  On a Monday morning, with another hectic week ahead.  Some highlights include, but are not limited to a trip to the Social Security Administration on Thursday to finally get my Social Security Card replaced, another trip to the DMV (don’t ask), prepping for Shayna’s arrival on Saturday, as well as Clover’s pick up on Saturday, and lots and lots of reading for class.

Wedding planning, per usual, happens in spurts.  I’ll go through a week where I’ll get stuff done, then lapse for months and months while I do other things like work, school, life, home, etc.  Eventually I’ll get back around to it?  I’m terrible at this stuff.

Anyway, this is long enough. I should probably get started on my homework.

A blogger may be crossing a line by posting damning details regarding a failed marriage or relationship, such as bad sex, or outing their ex for their cheating ways to their readers, but is it crossing a legal line?

I have been blogging for almost nine years, which is a rather scary thought.  In that time, I have definitely crossed a few lines in blogging about exes that make me cringe.  I mean, once you put something out there on the internet, it’s not like you can take it back.  

While I have definitely toned down the amount of my personal life that I inject into this blog over the past couple of years, you can go back just as recently has 10 months or so, and see me mouthing off about The Ex.  They were things I definitely wish I had not said, regardless of their veracity.  (I have no desire to go back and decide what is and is not hyperbole.)  

Blogging is a wonderful way to express oneself, especially when you are feeling perhaps a bit lost or alone.  During a break-up or dissolution of a marriage, for example.  

Writing nasty things about an ex reminds me of the sober equivalent of drunk dialing.  Yes, I believe it’s a perfect analogy.  In the moment, (whether that moment is protracted, and extends a few months… or years) one is incensed with rage, hurt, or other negative emotion.  You’re practically drunk on your own anger, if you’re not actually drunk, trying to “drink until you can’t feel feelings”.  

The posts about how awful your ex was start pouring out.  All of the sordid little details about his poor sexual performance or her psychological hang-ups start splash all over your blog.  If he/she had mommy/daddy issues, undoubtedly many a blogger will devote a whole post (or three) just on that topic alone.

While going through that heartache, it is nice to have people who can relate to you, even if you can’t see them or hear them.  The comments still help.

There’s the aftermath, though, that I don’t think many think about.  As I mentioned before, once something is on your blog, you can’t really unsay it.  Even deleting a post doesn’t really erase it from the memories of those who have read it.

The Ex and I recently established a minimal bit of contact.  His first email contained a few statements that stung, but frankly were deserved.  While I have definitely put a stop to divulging personal information that should not be shared, hopefully he will not mind me sharing this gem:

“Even though you’ll want to, don’t dare reprint this entire thing in your blog (above 45% is the criteria).”

There was nothing dramatic or sneaky in the email, but that statement…  I had to laugh a bit.  I cringed, but I laughed, because as much as I wish I could say he was wrong, and that I would never do such a thing, he was right.  Even though at the present, I had no desire to reprint anything, I had proven otherwise in the past.

Thankfully he seemed to have a sense of humor about it, no matter how sardonic.  I mean, I’ve reprinted old emails from him on this blog, and then blasted them as insincere.  Then there was the post that was rather popular where I wished a flock of termites to invade his new house and raze it to the ground.  

None of it fair or warranted.

The thing about relationships is that even good people can have ugly seedy breakups.  Some people just bring out the worst in each other.  Also I’m convinced that there is no such thing as an amicable break-up.  Someone’s feelings always get hurt.  Someone else is made out to be the bad guy.  How could he/she do this, right?!

Acting like you know the ins and outs of someone’s break up based upon what they write in a blog is as silly as assuming you know who someone is, as a person, because you read their blog.

To answer my original question, I do support the notion of free speech, and that blogs are protected under that.  But where is the line between what you can do and what you should do?  Just because you have an unfiltered stage to sound off about whatever you want to 10s of 100s or even 1000s of people, doesn’t mean that you should.  

I’ll never be able to take back what I said.  For awhile there I was able to forget some of the things I had put up, but his email threw things into harsh, but oh so deserved perspective.  People get hurt by words, and on the internet that’s easy to forget.

We’ll never be close buddies, but it is nice that we’re able to talk at all without there being some sort of drama.  My history is littered with exes I just don’t talk to anymore, because when the relationship boat sank, I made sure to drag everyone down with me.  

It wasn’t pretty, and the nine years of blogging and airing my dirty laundry has certainly helped burn many a bridge.  Thankfully I stayed under the stipulated 45% limit this time. 

In this age of easy communication, it is not difficult to forget that an element of discretion and restraint should be favored.  Even if you’re hurting, make sure you’re not putting up a permanent record of things that months or years down the line you’ll regret.  It’ll hurt you and connection to those you care about. 

I’m not sure whether it’s the job of the legal system to police what is said in these situations, but I can understand why they’re being dragged into this mess, as we seem to be doing a piss poor job of policing ourselves.

I just didn’t have much in the way of expenses.  Those were the days of partying a wee too hard, and being able to leave a $25 tip on a $30 tab without crying too much.

I look back on those days and laugh.  And cry.  Mostly cry.

Pay Day, once you become a full-on adult, should be renamed to “Transfer Day” or “Watch Your Money Disappear Day”!  Patrick and I both were paid via direct deposit this morning.  We started out today with a sizeable chunk of change.  This chunk of change has since dwindled.  Significantly.

First there was the gigantic grocery bill we racked up from PeaPod, which is a godsend to those of us who are car-less.  I’m not complaining about that one too much, because I really enjoy food.  A lot.  

Then there was the credit line I got off my back today.  It felt great to pay it off, but do you know how much it burns to hold $600 in your hands, only to have to hand it over to some icky bank teller?  Then they count it out over and over again.  Goodbye, Benjamin Franklin.  Goodbye, Ulysses S Grant.  

Then there’s the money for the credit cards and tuition that needs to be set aside.  Oh, and don’t forget the dog apparently likes eating.  Must be a new hot button this month for Horatio.  Then there’s the “mandatory donation” for Clover, the daschund we’re looking to adopt.  Oh, and of course some other bills.  Verizon Wireless is sitting on top of this big fat money hemmorhaging pile, as well.

So sad.  

Gone are the days of being able to buy a hideous purse, if I felt like it.  Welcome to the days of “being responsible” and “not overspending”.

What a drag.

Oh well.  Tonight, we head off to Target and Marshall’s to buy things for our new apartment, because apparently we didn’t spend enough money on bills today!