The Evils of Facebook

Last year and this year, just last Friday, I have decided to take a hiatus from Facebook.  Last year, it was a three week break after a devastating month last year.

In July of last year, I was dealing with the aftermath of two car accidents; one minor fender bender that yielded minimal damage to my car and the other one, which had significant damage.  A Target semi truck backed into my husband's Kia SUV not once, but twice which lead to his SUV being totaled out.  It was still drivable but he couldn't get the hood to open.  We're still dealing with the insurance company regarding that accident even a year later.  Also, my car suffered a breakdown when it overheated.  My dad changed the thermostat and later the timing chain and other things so I wasn't driving for three weeks. Numerous people needed surgeries and thankfully, they made out okay.  Also, my mother in law had three hospitalizations with bouts of pneumonia and diverticulitis.  It was difficult because my father in law suffers from Lewy Body Dementia so we had to worry about people watching him.  Another tragedy that happened was the loss of two friendships whom I thought would carry me through the rest of my life.  There is more that happened a year ago, but that's for another blog.

All the stress of it made me take a sabbatical from people.  I only spoke to people who made an effort to speak to me.  I unplugged from social media and it was probably the most peaceful time I've had while dealing with the stress of everything that was happening to me.  It helped put things into perspective, too, while discovering who my real friends were.

Now, I am taking another vacation from people, only speaking when spoken to.

Facebook has become a huge part of our lives.  It has its advantages and I'll list them here.

1. Facebook gets you back in contact with long lost friends.  You can see how they've been over the years and you can reminisce about old times.
2. You can meet like minded people who share your interests,  your fears, and your perspective on life.
3. It's a good way to keep in contact with your family.
4. You can share your life with everyone you know and most of them will support you and help you every step of the way.

However, here are the evils of Facebook.

1. You find out who your real friends are.  If they go somewhere without you, you feel left out.
2. It's heavily addicting.  You can wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and I'm sure people bring their phones with them when they take a piss or dump and catch up on things.  The next thing that happens is they miss out on sleep.  People forget they are at work because of their addiction to Facebook and it causes frustration.
3. I believe it is responsible for the political divide in our country.  People are shutting each other out over political differences.  It is conservatives versus liberals and both sides are losing.  People are losing friends and family over politics and Facebook is a good platform.  Facebook isn't solely responsible, but it's a contributor.
4. It brings out high school mentality in people and it makes for a lot of drama.
5. It brings on depression in people because it makes them feel inadequate in their lives because they are under the illusion that others have it so much better than they do.  It brings on insecurity, self-doubt and self-loathing.
6. People have a platform to be dishonest about who they are.  They're dishonest with the pictures they post and how they interact with people in a real world setting.  They can talk tough about who they are, but when you meet them in person, they're not who they portray themselves to be.

I'm sure some of you will agree with the statements I have made in this post.  Facebook was meant to be a good thing for people, but like with everything, there is a dark side to it.

Deactivating from Facebook is therapeutic.

The Birth and Death of My First Ever Friendship

Wow!  I didn't realize how long it has been since I made a blog entry here.  Sorry about that, folks.  The last time I wrote an entry, it was a long time ago.  Anyway, here is what's on my mind.

In life, we meet people.  We meet people from the day we're born and the first person we ever meet is the obstetrician who takes you out of your mother when you're born and in our last days, we still meet people.

Anyway I have a story to tell about the first friend I've ever made in my life.  The first friend I clearly remember to be exact.  It has been two years since I parted ways with her so I think writing about it would help me.

I was a toddler when I moved to Lakeville from Apple Valley.  We lived on Isleton Avenue in Lakeville near Christina Huddleston Elementary.  I can't remember the exact moment we met because we were so young.  She was more than a year younger than me.  I was born in the spring of 1977 and she was born the summer of 1978.  As I grew up and started remembering things, one of my first memories was playing with her in the back yards of our homes.  She was my next door neighbor, she had a younger sister and our parents got along very well with each other.

We played almost every day and I grew to love her.  She and I were joined at the hip, we got along very well and she was a wonderful friend to me.  It didn't matter if she was two classes behind me(I'm the class of 1995 and she is the class of 1997).  Though I was just a child, I envisioned growing old with her and I imagined her being in my wedding and being in her wedding too.  We even talked about it as children.    The good times kept growing for us.  We would go out and play our back yards and when she wasn't home, her parents didn't mind me and my brother playing in their sandbox.  We would do aerobics in our home watching Joanie Greggains, we watched Scooby Doo together, played in the playroom of her house.  We went trick or treating together, spent our birthdays together.  It was beautiful.

In the summer of 1985, my parents decided to sell our home in Lakeville and we moved to Apple Valley.  Somehow, I knew this wasn't the end of our friendship.  Over the years, we stayed in touch.  We exchanged phone calls, had play dates together and though we didn't see each other as much over the years, our friendship was solid and that continued for a long time.  She and I were still very close and she saw me through some of the toughest chapters in my life.  I didn't have a lot of friends when I moved to Apple Valley.  I made some friends in Cedar Park, but I remember Apple Valley as being a very unfriendly town.  I had trouble making and keeping friends, but I thought she was a constant, true friend and I wished I never moved to Apple Valley.

We remained close when I was in middle school, always exchanging phone calls and we still got together frequently.  It even continued when I was in high school.  She saw me through my friendless times in the first two years of high school, my grandparents deaths in 1992, and she was one of my best friends.  She even told me when I was in tenth grade and while we were walking to downtown Apple Valley that I was one of her best friends too.

After I graduated high school, she changed suddenly.  She was diagnosed with manic depression and she became self-destructive.  She attempted suicide and lived in group homes and half way homes.  She didn't call me as much and I tried to get answers to her condition.  Some people who worked with me told me she had some troubles in school and she was having seizures.  I was concerned so I tried calling her but she was in the hospital getting treated for her condition.  I ended up talking to her mother and I wanted some answers and reluctantly told me some information but not everything.  She wasn't going to finish high school on time and I found out she was drinking a lot.

Between high school and getting married, I saw her a few times.  She definitely did change. The happiness that I saw in her eyes was gone and I know that was because of her manic depression.  Also, it was hard for me to see her smoking, though I was a smoker myself, she was never without a boyfriend, but we were still friends.  We still made an effort to see each other and though our friendship had changed, it was still solid.

I got engaged in the spring of 1998 and Ted and I were planning our wedding and I wanted to make my friend a part of our wedding and she accepted.  She showed up to all the dress fittings and eventually, I saw more happiness in her eyes.  She was still a good friend and her mother was tickled pink that I made her a bridesmaid.  Her mother told me what I did was good for her and it gave her something to look forward to.  I agreed because I was worried about her.

I got married in October of 1999 and it was a fun day.

We still talked to each other and the summer after I got married, she was pregnant with her first child.  I was so excited for her and I was looking forward to meeting her baby.  I was invited to her baby shower and I showed up.  She looked really good too, but that would me one of  the last times I would see her.  Things weren't going so well for her and her boyfriend.  He cheated on her and she was going to move back to her parents house and that's what she did.   She had a baby girl in the fall of 2000 and I was so happy for her.  I called her several times trying to get together with her to meet her baby but nothing ever came to fruition.

After she gave birth her daughter, I'd say that was the beginning to the slow decay of our friendship.  One night she called me wanting to go out, but I wasn't feeling up to it so she asked me if I wanted to watch her daughter so she can go out.  I thought that was not very good of her to ask me to watch her baby, considering it had been a long time since we saw each other.  Also, I had little experience with babies.

We made plans to see each other and she wanted me to meet her and her boyfriend at the time at a park, but I couldn't find them.  Ted and I checked every baseball diamond at the park and they were nowhere to be found.  She said she was going to Hot Shots after her boyfriend's softball game so we went there and we waited there for two hours and she never showed up.  We got home and there were no messages on the answering machine.  There were a few numbers on the caller ID box we didn't recognized so I called each one and all those people didn't know who my friend was.  She never called to explain and she never called to ask why we weren't there.

After that, we didn't speak for a while until her sister got married the summer of 2002.  I was excited because I would finally get to meet her daughter.  The ceremony happened and then we went to the reception hall.  It took forever for the food to be ready so in the meantime, I went out for cigarettes with my husband, brother, dad and my sister and we caught up with her and her family.  I wondered where her daughter was and someone took her daughter for the night so my friend can live it up.  She looked beautiful in her bridesmaid dress.  Her hair was done up nice and she looked really happy.  We were talking about seeing each other soon and she was all for it but nothing happened.

 Then in the summer of 2004, I visited my parents.  My sister and brother were there too and everyone went outside except for me and my mother.   While I was there, someone was calling my parents.  I answered the phone and it was my friend's dad.  He hadn't called my parents in years but he called to inform us that my friend's mother passed away.  She died suddenly of a heart attack.

Two days later, it was her mother's wake.  We went there but little did I know this would be the last time I would ever see her.  She was a mess, but that was understood.  She was besides herself with grief and I felt bad for her.  We were talking about childhood memories and she said she wanted to see me again.  While I was there, I found out she had a second child and it was a son.  Her children weren't there at her mother's memorial service.  They were too young to attend.

In the last ten years of our friendship, I had my daughter and I invited her to my baby shower, but she never came.  I tried in vain to see her.  In the meantime, she had another baby girl and I wanted to meet her too.  Every time we made plans to see each other, something always came up and she never made it a point to reschedule.  I was pregnant with my son in 2011 and after I gave birth to him, I invited her to see me at the hospital and she didn't come.  She texted me while I was recovering and she told me to call her when I was feeling up to it and I did, but my call wasn't returned. We started talking a lot again and about four years ago, we were getting close again.  If I had a problem, I turned to her for support.  She was going through a break up and I was helping her with that.  In the meantime, I learned that she lived in the same towns I lived in, but she never called wanting to meet up.  She only told me this after she moved so I was sad she didn't tell me.

It made me so sad about how one sided our friendship had become in the last ten years.  I kept wanting to see her but I kept getting blown off.  I invited her to help me celebrate my birthdays and she never came.  Then the icing on the cake happened two years ago.  She was engaged and I was so happy for her.  Since I made her a part of my wedding, I thought she would do the same for me but she didn't.  As the time to her wedding drew closer, I thought I would be invited but she never asked me for my address.  In the meantime, the 10th anniversary of her mother passing away came and she wanted me to release balloons for her and I did that.  I even made a Facebook post about it.  I wrote her name on the balloons I bought and told her she was missed.  She even told me I was one of her favorite people.

Then her wedding day came and I was crushed that she didn't invite me.  I was alternating between being heartbroken with sadness and seething with anger.  My friend didn't explain to me why I wasn't invited or anything like that.  It made me so sad and angry that I literally felt physical pain.  So with that being said and done, I took a deep look at our friendship and in the last ten years of it, we didn't really have one.  I had been a good friend to her over the years and she didn't seem to appreciate it. I  had been loyal, available, all those things.  I let her go.  I deleted her number from my cell phone, I blocked her on Facebook and I deleted every picture of her I ever posted but I kept the ones of my wedding.  Too bad I never got to meet her kids in person and I feel sad she never got to meet mine.  This isn't what I envisioned that our friendship would become.  I thought our kids would grow up together and we would still be friends but I was wrong.

A year ago, I made a post lamenting on losing her and how it still hurts and her sister read it.  Her sister was upset with me and she had every right to be.  She told me my friend was under no obligation to invite me to her wedding.  She said I didn't have my facts straight and she told me I didn't know what I was talking about.  She told me she had to keep her guest list small too.  My friend could have explained it to me, but she decided not to and I told her sister that.  I thought I could maintain a friendship with her sister, but I couldn't.

I am still not completely over it.  Last June, I found out my sister invited her to my nephew's graduation party and I was upset that she did.  I told my sister I couldn't come if she was going to be there but I went anyway and thankfully she didn't show up.  If she came, I wouldn't know what I would do.  Would I talk to her and patch things up with her?  Would I be mean and nasty to her?  Would I have to leave because I couldn't take seeing her again?

I'm sure we all have that that one friend whom we lost and still can't get over it. We wonder why our friend decided to not talk to us anymore or why that friend started treating us with neglect.  We often scratch our heads wondering what went wrong.  But then again, we shouldn't keep torturing ourselves trying to make a friendship work when our friend isn't interested and doesn't care.  It doesn't matter how long we've known our friend.  What matters is how that friend treats us.  And that's the bottom line.

I wish my friend the best of what life and God has to offer.  I would feel bad if she got sick with a terminal disease and I would feel bad if her children were suffering from adversity.  I'm not angry with her anymore but she was the first friend I've ever made.  She will always hold a special place in my heart.  But I'm sad about how it ended.  I was sad about how I would cross an ocean for her but she wouldn't cross a puddle for me.

So there it is.  If you read this, thank you.  I would appreciate your feedback,  Have a good summer and I'll make sure I don't wait two years between posts again.

The Bitch that is Called Foreclosure

Hello, readers of mine.  Summer is underway, but in a month from now, the kids will be returning to school or sooner depending on where you live.  Hard to believe that this summer will soon be drawing to a close in a month.

Two years ago, we moved to Chaska into a 2 bedroom town home that we're renting.  The view from our windows is beautiful.  There is a thickly wooded area in front of us so it's peaceful to look at when we're having a bad day.  It's just relaxing to see it when I'm outside, chilling.  The neighbors we have are great with one of them reminding me of Jeff Bridges's character, the Dude on the Big Lebowski only he's employed.

The five years leading up to now has been difficult.  I know my blogs are such downers, but I find them to be therapeutic when I'm trying to sort things out.

Five years ago, my husband lost his job at a plant that manufactures septic and sprayer tanks.  It was a good paying job, but like some businesses in this hard economy, his company was trying to find ways to save money.  Firstly, they let go of the people who made the most money and had the most seniority so they can hire people to take their places for a lower wage.  My husband was one of them.   The job paid him a good wage of $22.00/hour.  He filed for unemployment benefits and he was able to get them.  Unemployment paid him pretty well.  He was still able to pay our two mortgages and we thought everything was going to be okay.  He was laid off on Memorial Day weekend.

At around the same time Ted lost his job, I found a job working at a hotel.  I loved it there and I made some pretty good money.  The women I worked with were a complete riot and I felt like I fit in with everybody.  I didn't mind all the hard work of a hotel housekeeper.  I cleaned up after some really wild parties, I cleaned up vomit, feces, cum and God knows what else, but I didn't mind it at all.  During the summer of 2009, I worked between 40-50 hours a week.  I was able to help Ted pay bills and the money was rolling in like you wouldn't believe.  But that soon would change.

In September of 2009, the busy season of the hotel ended.  Canterbury Downs was closing up for the summer, Valleyfair only stayed open for the weekends and I saw that my hours were dwindling down to part time hours.  Between September and April, I must have put in at least 20-25 hours a week.

February of 2010, Ted finally landed a job.  He works at another manufacturing plant, but this job only paid him $14.00/hour.  We were still able to keep our two mortgages current but as time progressed, we were starting to feel the crunch.  We didn't go out so often anymore and we tried to find ways to save money but since we had a child, it proved to be difficult.  She was entering preschool and we had that expense.  Plus, we started to use our credit cards more and with that came another bill.  Then in June of 2010, Ted signed us up for medical insurance.  We needed it because of our daughter and pretty soon, me.  The bills kept getting harder to pay.  The busy season of the hotel came up again and my paychecks were getting larger, but I knew once fall rolled around, my hours would get cut again.

In September of 2010, I discovered that I was pregnant with my son.  It seemed like with each passing month, paying our bills got to be more and more difficult.  Upon telling my employer about me being pregnant, my hours were getting cut again.  I was still able to do the job, but the pregnancy with my son was far more difficult than when I was pregnant with my daughter.  I got much more tired and if I had to clean a smoking room, it really made me sick to my stomach and I got some really bad headaches from it.  I kept telling work that I needed more hours and that I was still capable of doing my job, but somehow they didn't agree.

In November of 2010, we made our last mortgage payment.  We told the bank we were unable to pay and we asked them if we could make partial payments and they flat out told us no.  In the meantime, we applied for a loan modification.   We sent in all the paperwork they wanted us to send but they called telling us they lost some of the documents and wanted us to send them again.  Then with each passing month, they asked us for more paperwork, pay stubs and other information.  It got frustrating.  Then there were the endless collection calls.  They called from 8 in the morning until 9 at night and sometimes they called three or four times a day.

In the meantime, I got laid off from my job at the hotel.  From Thanksgiving of 2010 until shortly after Christmas, my hours got reduced to almost nothing.  I was reduced to being the breakfast attendant and doing laundry.  I wasn't cleaning rooms anymore and my paychecks were very scant.  In January of 2011, I was let go.  My employer told me to apply for unemployment and that's what I did.

In March of 2011, we were approved for a loan modification but the payments they wanted us to make were still too high.  We asked them if they could reduce it even more by a mere $100 but they told us no.  I told Ted we should start looking for a new place to live, but then my brother in law called.  He told us he saw a news story on Fox9 about people who were denied loan modifications.  There was a man on the news who talked about how people were being wrongfully foreclosed on and he told us to call him and so we did.

We talked to the man who was on the news and he said for sure, we would be able to keep our house.  He told us the law firm who represents his business had an undefeated record and he gave us a sense of hope.  We decided to go for it.  We were determined to keep our house at all costs so we were getting ready to sue the mortgage company.

In the meantime between March of 2011 and May of 2011, I worked at a telemarketing agency.  I immediately hated it because I wasn't making any sales.  The potential customers I called kept hanging up on me and my supervisor kept on cheering us on.  It was very distracting because other people were talking, they had loud music playing in the background and of course the cheerleaders.  When someone made a sale, someone would bang on a gong which made me lose my train of thought so after a week, I quit.

Also, sometime in April of 2011, we got papers telling us there will be a sheriff's sale on our property and it was to take place in June of 2011.  The people we were working with told us to not worry about it.  They said we would be fine.

In May of 2011, my son was finally born.  He was a healthy baby, born via c-section.  Our stay at the hospital was nice because it gave me a chance to bond with my son and it was an escape from the incessant collection calls.  It was nice to not have the phone ring at all during the day.  When we came home, sure enough the calls came.  This time they resorted to leaving messages on our machine.  The people we were working with told us to not return their calls.

Then suddenly in June of 2011, the collection calls stopped.  Our house was sold at a sheriff's auction but we were still confident we would be able to stay.  The lawsuit that was planned was in the works and we finally got to meet our lawyer after months of being told we would be.  This took place in October of 2011.  By December of that year with the sheriff's auction papers we got, we were to be evicted but the lawsuit we had pending stopped it.  The lawyer told us we could put up our Christmas tree and we did.  Plus, it was December so by law and since there was cold weather, we were allowed to stay.  The eviction papers never arrived in December so that was a sigh of relief.  In the meantime, we signed papers to rent a town home that we were planning to move to, but we had a sense of hope that we'd stay.

In February of 2012, the note we were fearing we'd get came.  It was an eviction notice.  We were told to appear in court on the 28th so we told our lawyer about it and the time came for us to go.  My husband went with our lawyer.  Since our house was owned by CitiBank previously, we found out that Fanny Mae/Freddie Mac purchased our home in the sheriff's auction so the courts were dealing with the wrong bank.  The original bank, CitiBank came to the eviction hearing so upon getting knowledge of Freddie Mac purchasing our home, the lawsuit was now in Freddie Mac's hands so they needed time to schedule a whole new hearing.  We were basically bought more time to stay on our home.

In the meantime, we had a bad feeling about what was to come so we were looking at townhomes to rent.

Also, finally after 15 months of unemployment,  I found a job working at a vegan kitchen so that would take us to March of 2012.

Our hearing was rescheduled for early April and we appeared in court.  We negotiated a deal with the court to pay them a fee until our quiet title case was resolved.  We were to pay them each month.  Tehat made us happy because we still thought we were able to keep our home.  This continued until around June of 2012.

In June, we were ready to go to Ohio for a wedding.  I planned to clean the house, do as much laundry as I could and pack up for the trip.  I had to run some errands and when the kids and I got back home, there was a notice on my door.  It said we had 24 hours to leave our house.  If we didn't, we would be forced out so right away, I took the notice off the door and we headed to a place to fax the documents.  I called Ted and told him the situation and he was not happy.  Neither was I.  We tried calling our lawyer countless times but we didn't get a response.  Not only were we freaking out, but we had this vacation we planned and we were debating on whether we should go or not.  Finally we got a response and they told me they were going to get a hold of the courts to appeal the eviction.  They told us to go ahead and take our vacation.  It was probably one of the worst days of my life.

We left for Ohio so while we were on the road, we got called by our lawyer and they told us the courts would allow them to appeal the eviction.  The paperwork was already submitted and signed.  Also, while we were on the road, I called people who owned rental properties to see if we could get scheduled a showing and fill out applications so we could have a place to live in case if our appeal was denied.  While we were in Ohio, we were scheduled a hearing in court.  If anything, our lawyer bought us more time.

When we got home, we applied to a couple of rental town home properties and were awaiting our court date.  We bought some boxes as well so we could start packing our belongings too.  Then at last, the court date arrived.  Our lawyer was there and he thought we were going to have the court keep having us pay the fine so he talked to the attorney representing the bank and she said she wasn't there for that.  She was there for the eviction and she said the bank wanted to remove us from our home.  It wasn't looking good at all.  Then we were finally called up to the stand.   I was crying because the stress got to me.  The lawyers and the judge talked about our case and it was obvious our lawyer was unprepared.  He tried to reason with the judge, but the judge wouldn't listen to him.  Ted asked the judge if we could have a month to move, but the judge told us we had two weeks to leave and so it was ordered that we had to leave our home two weeks from the court date.  Our lawyer gave us a refund for him losing the case.  It wasn't a full refund but it was something to help us along as we were about to move.  We rented a container from PODS and it would come a week later.

On the way back, we were really depressed and we broke the news to my mother in law who was babysitting our children.  We asked her if we could stay with them until we found a home and she said yes.  We were going to have lunch with her and when we were en route, the landlord to the place where we're presently living called and she told us we were approved.  She told us we could move in August 1, 2012.  That made us ecstatic!  I was happy because I wouldn't be homeless or stuck living with my inlaws long term.

Finally the day came.  We were ready to move but we still had a lot of things to sort through.  The depression of getting evicted really got to me.  It was hard seeing all my furniture leave my old home.  As the  house started to empty, I nearly lost it.  It was also hard on me because a friend of mine passed away and I wasn't able to go to her wake and her funeral as well.  I also wasn't looking forward to moving in with my inlaws for three weeks.

After we got most of the stuff out of the house, there were still a lot of things left but we decided to abandon them. There was a desk we left behind, a couple of cabinets, a whole room of stuff we didn't know what to do with and other things.  Among the things we abandoned, I realized I left behind a Bible my parents gave me when I was in 4th grade, my 8th grade yearbook, a couple of photo albums I forgot and a box of all the Christmas cards and birthday cards we got over the years.  We were afraid that the powers that be would come after us for the big mess we left behind.  I could never get those things back.  When we were leaving, Chloe made a chalk drawing on our old driveway.  It was a family moving and all the family had sad expressions on their faces.

For three weeks we lived at my inlaws.  While I was there, I kept busy.  I went to Shakopee Public Utilities to pay our final bill and I had them turn off the electricity to our home. I withdrew Chloe from Red Oak Elementary and enrolled her to Jonathan Elementary school, I made lots of phone calls to switch everything over to our new address and I took my kids with me whenever I ran errands so my inlaws wouldn't be stuck watching them.  I helped them clean house, I cooked meals for them, I did my own laundry and I got my kids up and ready for the day and Ted got them ready for bed at night.  I wasn't happy living there but at least I wasn't out on the streets.

We moved into our new home and we adjusted to our smaller living quarters.  We went from having a 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom, 2 living areas and a laundry room to just having a 2 bedroom, 1 1/2 bathroom, kitchen and a small living area.  We were still stuck paying the second mortgage on our home and also, we dropped out of the quiet title case.  There was really no sense in staying on it because we lost our home.

In September of 2013, we filed for bankruptcy and got a discharge on our second mortgage among other bills we were no longer able to afford.

Our house in Shakopee stood vacant for two years and the neighborhood we used to live in is now being converted to a neighborhood for section 8 and low income housing.  We learned other people have lost their homes too.  Also, we had my father in law burn the mortgage to our old home.  There are other documents that we need to destroy as well.  Plus, the lawyer we hired to help us stay in our home has been in hot water and it's been documented so I don't even know if he's still practicing law.

So, with that being said, foreclosure is a bitch.  It turns people's lives upside down and it is very stressful and depressing.  The banks and the government really aren't interested in helping people stay in their homes when they suffer job loss or other circumstances.  It's a slow, agonizing process that many families face to have them see everything they work for get taken away from them.  I wouldn't wish my experience on anyone.  A family should never have to worry if they'll have a roof over their heads and deal with the uncertainty.

I know this blog was a little long, but thank you for reading.  Take care, y'all.

Like Toby Keith said in his song, "Freddie Mac can kiss my ass!"

Irreplaceable Person: There Was Nobody Like Her...

Hello, readers of mine.  How are you all doing this summer?  The summer shows a lot of promise with spending lots of time with my children and going to places that we weren't able to over the school year.  Also, it's a time for recharging our batteries so we're ready for the fall.  Also, summer is a time where you could visit extended family and see them for weddings, graduations, and other events.  However, one person will not experience that this summer: this person was my most favorite cousin in the world.

The last time I saw her, it was a very cold, but fun day.  We had our annual reunion and on the odd number years, my family, my parents, and my brother and his family made the trek down to Jackson, MN.  My aunt who lives in Maple Grove and her family also made the journey down to Jackson as well.

Whenever I saw my favorite cousin, she greeted me with a bear hug, her contagious smile and genuine excitement of seeing me.  It didn't matter if I saw her the day before, she always was happy to see me.  She was like that with everybody.  She was charismatic, outgoing, bubbly, she had a very infectious smile, and there were no faults that I could find with her.  Everybody loved her and in turn, she loved them back.  She was never in a bad mood or had an off day like most of us.

When I saw her last, that time was no different than the other times I saw her.

Little did I know that I would never see that happy, loving face again.

It was mid January, maybe about three weeks after Christmas.  It was a Sunday morning, January 12th to be exact.  My kids, my husband and I were going to go to my parents house in Apple Valley like we always did each Sunday.  I was the first to wake up in my house which is normal on the weekends.  I had some quiet time before my kids woke up for the day and I left my phone on the headboard where my bed was.  At around 9 that morning, my phone went off but I didn't hear it.  Ted came downstairs with my phone to tell me my parents called.  Normally if they called me on a Sunday morning, it was to tell me they wouldn't be home so I assumed this was no different.  My mom left me a voice mail and told me to call her as soon as possible.

When I called my dad that morning, I thought he was going to tell me my uncle on my dad's side passed away since he's had so many health issues over the last few months.  He said he had some bad news to tell me so I thought that's what it was going to be.  Nope, I was wrong.  He said my favorite cousin died just about a half hour after my mom left me the voice mail.  He had no idea how she passed away as well as everybody else.  My dad passed the phone to my mom and I asked her if we could still come over and she said yes.

A couple hours later, we arrived at my parents.  There we got more details as to how she passed.  She woke up coughing and had trouble getting her air that morning and told her husband to take her to the hospital which was only a mile and a half away.  They woke up their daughter and they were en route.  The building was in sight and she let out one last cough and then she passed.   Her husband wasn't sure as to how she passed so he demanded an autopsy.  In the meantime, her funeral was getting planned.

Between getting the news of her passing and awaiting the results of the autopsy, I was grieving her loss.  It got worse every day between then and when we went down to Jackson.  The weather was supposed to be really bad the day of her funeral but I was determined to make it there.

The results of her autopsy came in about her death.  She died from a pulmonary embolism. Her body had quite a lot of blood clots in it and some of them made its way into her lungs.  I was shocked as to how she passed, but it was justified.  My cousin was morbidly obese and severely out of shape.  She ate a lot of junk and she ate often.  I don't think I've ever seen her without a plate of food in front of her or talking about food or talking about eating.  Her pantries were stocked with junk food and she had a tote next to where she sat when she watched TV had candy in it.  Food was a big part of her life and I think that ultimately killed her.

The day of her wake, I picked up my daughter from school and brought her and my son to my inlaws since they offered to watch the kids for the night. Ted got home from work and we were on our way.  My parents and my brother made it there and we went to the funeral home.  I couldn't believe the turnout she had.  Since she lived in a small town, it was estimated that a quarter of the people came to her wake.  There was a line out the door to view her body.  We must have stood in line for an hour before we finally made it to give her husband and children our condolences.  They were taking it very hard.  I saw varying emotions with them, particularly her husband and daughter.  They tried to laugh through their agonizing pain.  Sometimes they looked really angry and then despondent.  Her siblings had more of the same and then I thought about my aunt and uncle.  They were staying strong, but it was tough on them.

I believe that a parent should never have to bury a child.  It doesn't matter if the child is a baby or a grown up or anything like that.  A set of parents could be in their 80s or 90s and have children.  It just isn't right for that to happen.  I can't accept that she's gone.

Anyway, I gave her immediate family hugs and condolences and then the reality of her death hit me like a ton of bricks when I saw her lying in her coffin.  I knew it was her because of the clothes she wore, her glasses and her short, reddish brown hair but I still couldn't believe she left us.  I became unglued when I saw her.  I was praying to God telling myself "Please God, let this be a joke.  Make her wake up and tell everybody she's fine and just wanted to have a party."  That didn't happen, sadly.  I'm not normally emotional, but this time I was.  I've seen people come and go in my life and when they die, I understand.  I feel sad about it but not to the degree I was when I saw my favorite cousin.  I was a mess but I still talked to everyone at the funeral home.  I cracked jokes with them, I talked about what I was doing with myself and I tried to stay strong.

The next day, we planned to go to the funeral, but I was trying to find someone to work for me because the weather was going to be bad.  Nobody wanted to so as I lied in bed thinking about the funeral, I made a choice.  I chose to not go because nobody wanted to cover me for work, I was missing my kids, and the weather was going to be horrible.  I felt terrible that I wasn't going to attend.  I called my mom and dad in their room and told them I wasn't going.  They understood.  My aunt and uncle from Maple Grove understood too so we made the journey home without incident and I called my aunt and uncle from Jackson to apologize for not being there.  They understood as well.

In the months after her death, I am still trying to process it all.  I have to admit it hasn't been easy on me.  To show me a test of how hard life is without her, two months ago was a wedding.  We made the trek down to Jackson, but this time, I had no excitement to go there.  The town looked and felt empty and lacked the brightness that it had before.

Since I didn't make it to the funeral, I felt like I owed her husband a daughter a visit.  I wanted to see where she was buried to get some closure, too so before we checked into the hotel, I paid her husband a visit.  He was glad to see me.  We had a conversation with his daughter and him and they seemed to be doing remarkably well.  They told me they were taking it day by day.  Some days were tougher than others, but that was to be expected.  Her husband was upset because he ordered a headstone for her and it didn't come when it was supposed to.

A couple hours later, the wedding started.  My cousin was a beautiful bride and she looked really happy, but I wasn't.  I felt really depressed and I wanted to go home.  I didn't really talk to anybody, I stayed with my daughter the whole time, I tried to hide from everyone.  Also, I lost my wallet so I had that on my mind.  I didn't have fun there at all and while I was there.  Later after we got to the hotel to get some rest, I found my wallet.  It slid under the passenger's side seat.  Since I visited my cousin's husband and daughter, I thought I left it there so I asked her husband to look for it when he got home.  When we got back, I called to let him know I found it, but in the answering machine greeting was her voice.  Oh God, do I ever miss it.

For the last two years, her family had been begging her to see a doctor.  She had trouble getting her air and slept on a reclining chair.  She kept telling everybody that she was fine and to not worry about her.  Her parents and siblings told her she needed to change her eating habits but she didn't listen.

In the wake of her death, I am worried about her daughter and her husband.  From what I have seen, they have not changed their unhealthy lifestyles.  They still go out to eat often and they don't watch what they eat.  Everyone else is worried for them, too.  The only healthy person in the family is her son.  He keeps active and busy and he watches what he eats.

The moral of this story is to take care of yourself.  You're only given one body so take care of it.  If you like junk food, only eat it in moderation.  If your family begs you to see a doctor and begs you to take care of yourself, please listen to them.  Your life may depend on it.

Still, I miss her.  I will miss her until the day I die.  A brilliant light in my family has been snuffed out and there will be no way to rekindle it.

What went wrong, part 2

Hello readers of mine.  How are you all doing?  I'm doing okay but feeling melancholy.

Some time last year, I published a blog about my cousin 'Alexandria' and now I have an update.  For those of you who don't have time to read my blog, "What went wrong", let me refresh your memory. During the fall of 2012, my cousin 'Alexandria' blocked me on her Facebook.  I wasn't going to investigate why she blocked me but I was very hurt that she did such a thing.

I met her when she was a baby back in the mid 1980s.  I saw her and I thought she was so adorable.  I remember seeing her on her first Christmas and I thought she was so cute.  I asked her mother all sorts of questions about her and I asked if I could hold her and her mother told me 'no' but I could still look at her.  I watched her grow up to be a very beautiful girl.  She played with me a lot when she was growing up and I viewed her as the little sister I never had.  She was sweet, kind and she was always happy to see me.  Then sometime in the mid 1990s after the deaths of my grandparents, my family fell by the wayside with her family.  The times we saw each other were starting to get scarce, only seeing each other for graduations, weddings and my Great Uncle' funeral.

In the meantime before I had my daughter, I saw her at the mall with her friends.  I remember being so happy to see her but she didn't feel the same.  She acted like she didn't want to see me and talk to me and after that encounter, I felt really hurt.  I wondered what happened to the sweetheart, kind little girl I remembered back when our families were tight.  My husband told me she was a teenager and they can be rude sometimes.  Then I told my parents about when I saw her at the Burnsville Mall and they were taken aback by how rude she was to me as well.  If the situations were reversed and if Alexandria was me and I was her, I would take a moment to catch up with my cousin that I rarely see anymore.  Alexandria didn't.  I understand she was with her friends but that's no reason to blow someone off like that.

My daughter was born and I didn't see her again until my daughter was 2.  I went to a baby shower for her sister in law and she was in attendance.  I tried to talk to her but she was so busy talking to other people and she seemed to be disinterested in talking to me so I left her be.  The shower was an awkward occasion for me because it's been so long since I've seen her family and the more time that had passed, the more I became a stranger to her and the rest of the family.

With the invention of social networking, I found her on Facebook and I friended her but she didn't respond to my request right away.  It took her some time before she accepted me and things were going okay.  I loved the pictures she posted and I was proud of her and how successful she became.  Her life was looking very good.

Then in the fall of 2012, I saw that her posts were gone from my newsfeed.  For a while, I thought she got tired of Facebook and deactivated her account but I soon found out that she blocked me.  I was dumbfounded and depressed that she did such a thing.  For a long time, I wanted to investigate why she blocked me so about a month ago, I contacted her brother.  I told him I missed her and I missed seeing her pictures and I told him she blocked me.  I asked him if he knew why she did that and he said he didn't know.  He wasn't aware that she did such a thing.  But I took it with a grain of salt.  Maybe he does know why but won't tell me.  I understand because she's his sister and he doesn't want to cause her any trouble or anything like that.  Right or wrong, he must defend and protect her the best way he sees fit if you know what I mean.

I've thought of going to her other brother and her sister to see if they could enlighten me about her choice but maybe I shouldn't.  Alexandria has made it clear that she doesn't want me in her life anymore so I should learn to accept it.  I still love her and I'm proud of all her accomplishments.  If she doesn't want me in her life anymore, that's fine.  I hope she has a good life.

UPDATE:  During Easter, my parents were talking about her family and the good old days of when we were close.  I told them about her blocking me and it turns out she blocked my sister and brother, too.  I wonder what her deal is?  We've done nothing to hurt her or to make her feel uncomfortable.

UPDATE: 6-26-14
I found out my cousin got married in an ocean side wedding.  I was looking at my husband's page and looked her up and there was a picture of her standing next to the ocean in her wedding dress.  Her family was nowhere in the pictures she posted,  Maybe she abandoned her family or something.  I may never know what happened but her sister, brothers and her mom haven't made any announcements about her getting married.  My favorite cousin on my dad's side called me about a month ago and he didn't mention anything either.

My High School Existence

Hello readers of mine.  How are we doing on this lovely October day?  Hope everything is going well with y'all.  It's been a long time since I last posted a blog but the thoughts are racing through my mind and it's time to unleash them onto the world.

I've been feeling reflective lately thinking about my high school existence.  I'll try to break it down year by year without making it too long.  I'll make a prologue about my last year in middle school and the epilogue of life past high school.  Here we go.

Prologue: Eighth Grade at Valley Middle School.

It finally happened after two years but I was finally an eighth grader at Valley Middle School.  From what I recall, it was probably my best year there.  It seemed as if everybody in my graduating class got along better and we were the kings and queens of the school.   I've had a set of loyal friends since seventh grade and it seemed like we were closer than ever.  We always met for lunches, talking about hanging out outside of school but since we didn't drive, it was difficult and life was great.  I always had a group of people to eat lunch with and share good times.  The people who were in this group with me were outsiders much like I was.  We were unpopular, we didn't come from financially well to do families, and we were bullied.  But that didn't matter to me.  I remember being very happy that year until shortly after the Christmas of 1990.

My paternal grandfather was diagnosed with lung cancer during the beginning of winter of 1991.  He had a persistent cough and no remedies the doctors gave him made it any better.  He had some tests done and sure enough, it was cancer.  This first round of cancer he had was an easy fix.  He had a portion of his lung removed and he was given a clean bill of health.  However, it was short lived.

It was the last day at VMS and I felt a sense of sadness.  I loved my teachers there, I was so used to the floor plan of the school that I could easily find my way around even with my eyes closed and many of my friends were in sixth and seventh grade so I would have to wait up to two years to see them again.  I was certain that life would pick up after it left off after I got in tenth grade and eleventh grade so I held on to that hope.  I told my teachers I would visit them as much as I could as well.

The summer of 1991 was a mixed bag of good events and bad events.  My sister graduated high school and since my grandpa had cancer, I was getting very close with my dad's side of the family.  I remember nothing but happy times with them but it was overshadowed when my grandpa had a relapse.  The cancer returned and it was inoperable so he had to go through chemotherapy.  During that summer, he was on a steady decline.  His hair fell out from the treatments and that robust body of his became frail and thin.  He had determination to beat it again, but this time it was a lot harder on him.

In the meantime, I talked to my friends about his declining state.  For a while, they were supportive but little by little, they would cut me off when I talked to them about him.  I think the experience depressed me and maybe they were growing tired of me talking about it all the time.  Also, I began to withdraw from people. I started to not be myself.  My sense of humor was starting to disappear, my mom and I weren't getting along at all and I just felt hopeless.

Year One: 9th Grade, Freshman Year

Ninth grade started and I faced it with optimism.  I was going to a new school, all of the people from middle school were there plus some new faces from Scott Highlands Middle School and the class of 1992. I remember walking through the halls seeing all the senior boys.  Their height  towered over us little freshmen and the girls who were graduating that year didn't look like girls anymore.  They looked like women.

The year started off pretty well, except I had really bad hay fever and it was hard to concentrate.  I suffered from ADD and my doctor was weaning me off my medication.  I didn't go to the nurse anymore to take my pill so I carried it with me.

As the year went on, my grandpa got worse.  My grandma also was a cancer survivor but she had a relapse so they were suffering from cancer together and she started to go on a slow and steady decline as well.  With their declining conditions, my friendships with people were starting to deteriorate as well.  I noticed that I was getting excluded from things like birthday parties, I was shut out of conversations, and I started to feel alienated from them so I decided to let them go.  Whenever I told them my grandparents were getting worse, they didn't care.

When I left that group of people, I tried to find other groups where I felt like I belonged but it just wasn't happening.  Even those people didn't want to hear of me talking about my grandparents. Also they tried to influence me to do things I knew weren't right.   I was criticized A LOT by people so as a result, I thought people were out to get me.  I felt like the world was against me.  I was also getting bullied again.


Finally in February of 1992 my grandpa passed away,  I told the group of friends I used to hang out with in middle school about it and they didn't give me any condolences whatsoever.  I was met with indifference and one of the guys who was in the group said "That's nice."  Nobody gave me any hugs or reassurance that I would be okay.  The same thing applied to everyone else.  The people who bullied me still treated me with disrespect even after I told them.  They were still unrelenting and cruel.  My grandfather's death was only the beginning.

Soon after my grandpa died, his wife's health started to rapidly decline.  My self-esteem was also declining and the depression I was feeling was suffocating.  I wasn't sent to a psychologist but looking back at it, I'm pretty sure I was suffering from clinical depression.  Sometimes, I thought the world would be a better place without me.  I wanted out of life and the thoughts of suicide became more frequent.  I never acted on those thoughts, but I had a razor blade in my nightstand and it was looking really good.

I hated taking the bus to school because that's where most of the bullying happened.  One person always made condescending remarks to me and he was relentless.  He kept picking on the clothes I wore, the things I said, the sound of my voice and it sucked.  Sometimes he would pinch me and one day, we were arguing.  I don't remember what the argument was about but he had chewing tobacco in his mouth.  I finally told him to shut up and he spit on my face.  The chewing tobacco ran down my cheek and it smelled awful.  The next day I told someone and she sent me right to the counselor's office.  I was very reluctant to go.  She held me by the arm and pretty much dragged me in there and she told me to tell the counselor what happened.  I told the counselor what happened.  The person who bullied me was called into her office and the bus driver was talked to and since then, he left me alone.  He stopped talking to me and he started to treat me like I didn't exist.

Another person bullied me on the bus as well.  She bullied me in forth grade, seventh grade and again in ninth grade.  She would trip me over, pull my hair, tease me and it was difficult on me.  Like with the boy, I told her repeatedly to leave me alone but that only made it worse.  This girl scared the shit out of me since forth grade and ninth grade was no better.  I kept silent about it.  Back in forth grade, I told my teacher of the things she did to me and for a while, she was sympathetic.  However it wore thin on her and she got to the point where my teacher didn't care and didn't do anything about it.  I kept silent about it in ninth grade as well.  For a couple years, she disappeared and came back in eleventh grade.  I was so frightened that she would pick on me again, but she left me alone. I was surprised that she did.  We passed each other in the halls in eleventh grade and senior year and she treated me like I didn't exist.  That also was a sigh of relief for me.

In May of 1992 my grandma passed away.  When she died, I took it really hard because I knew that everything was over.  Pretty soon, I would no longer go to their house since my dad and my uncle were already talking about selling their house and their belongings.

I informed my former friends about her passing away and I was met with more of the same.  I was met with indifference, no condolences or anything like that but this time, I wasn't so devastated.  In the four months between their deaths, I learned that the people I hung out with in middle school were no longer relevant to me.  I had another group that I ate lunch with after letting them go and they kept trying to tell me that I need to stop being so pessimistic.  They tried to raise my spirits but I was so wrapped up in self-pity that I couldn't even see they were trying to help me.  They gave me a dose of tough love which is what I needed but I didn't notice. They were a group of mostly African American people.  I wished today I could thank them for trying to help me and I wish I could thank them for putting up with me.

Ninth grade ended on a sad note but there was a ray of hope.  My dad's side of the family offered me a great support system and I became really good friends with my cousins from my Great Uncle.  I remember feeling a lot of love from them and I think that's what got me through in retrospect.

The summer after ninth grade was uneventful.  The sadness was still there and I could tell by looking at old pictures.  All the pictures that were taken of me had no smiles or anything.  I looked sullen and indifferent.  We had a trip to Washington state and I couldn't even enjoy myself.  The depression I was feeling still reared its ugly head.  The only thing that kept me going was some of my friends from Valley Middle School were coming into high school as freshmen so that made me happy because I thought I wouldn't be lonely for my sophomore year.

Year Two: 10th Grade, Sophomore Year

Tenth grade started uneventfully.  I was slowly beginning to lick my wounds from ninth grade and start the healing process.  Things were still a little depressing but I hoped my sophomore year would be an improvement and in many ways, it was.  My friends from Valley Middle School came back but they've changed.  They all went to different groups and started to hang out with different people.  One friend remained to be in my life and looking back at it, it was a toxic friendship.  If you want elaboration on it, refer to my blog titled "Losing a Friend Over Something Stupid."  If I wrote about it again, it would make this one even longer than it should be.  That one will explain everything.

I still felt like my life wasn't worth anything but a month into my sophomore year, something happened.  I was fifteen years old so that meant I was eligible for working.  My sister who was an assistant manager at a fast food restaurant said the place was understaffed.  I remember hearing her talk to my mother and she said maybe I should get a job working with her and my mother said it would be a great thing for me.  The next day, she came home with a job application for me and said, "We need people and you're going to work with us."  I was drafted!  LOL

I was scared about the possibility of working.  I was just a kid and I thought I was too young.  Plus, I would miss out on watching movies that came on the TV back when channels 9, 23, and 29 were independent networks and before Fox had football games on their channel.  The idea of being on my feet for more than three hours made my feet hurt just thinking about it but I filled out the application and I got an interview the next day.  I didn't know if I was hired because I didn't get the call, but my sister saw my name on the schedule and she came home and told me I got the job.

My first months at my job were not pleasant on me.  I still suffered from ADD so I took my medication before going to work.  I didn't need it for school anymore but somehow I still needed it for that.  I was easily distracted and I had a chip on my shoulder.  I remember the crew being sarcastic with each other and I didn't catch on to it.  They were being sarcastic with me and I can't believe how personally I took it.  I would get angry with my crew so the management put me on as a dining room attendant.  That meant I wouldn't work with the crew directly.   To make matters worse for me, my sister disclosed to my boss that I had ADD so I was almost constantly supervised.  The management would come out in the dining room to make sure I was on task.  I was but they still gave me extra attention and I didn't like it.

As the year pressed on, I got some of the friends I lost the year before back.  I think in some ways I was getting to be more pleasant to be around.  I was done grieving my grandparents and things were looking better.  The bullying subsided as well.  I was in recovery so to speak.  I had a job so that kept my mind off my problems, my tastes changed a little in the summer of that year, my mother had me see a psychologist.  It was hard for me to open up to her because I felt like there was nothing wrong with me.  I just came off a traumatic experience with ninth grade and some part of tenth grade.  In some ways I wish I opened up to her more.  I wished I told her things weren't so great with me.  I rarely hung out with anyone.  I was lucky if I went out with people my own age more than five times in a whole school year.

I spent most of my time alone though.  I didn't want to get too close to people because I've been betrayed so many times.  Also, one of my classmates said he didn't hear anything about me at all for my sophomore year and I told him I was keeping a low key.  I kept quiet and that's how I liked it.

At one point during my tenth grade year, my dad got a job offer in Wisconsin. He would be the supervisor to people at the corporate office of his job.  The job offer was tempting and it would make him more money.

Tenth grade ended on a positive note.  Things were improving at my job and the lighter side of me started to come out after being shrouded in darkness.  I was slowing beginning to get my life back together.

Year Three: 11th Grade, Junior Year

Eleventh grade started pretty well but this time, I lowered my expectations.  I stopped believing that I would be popular like I always dreamed of being;.  I figured I'd be better off being myself than trying to pretend that I'm someone who I'm not.  Self acceptance was easy to come by with me.  If people didn't like who I was, then fuck 'em.

Also another thing that lowered my expectations was the new crowd of Freshman coming in.  I was friends with some of them upon leaving middle school and like the class of 1996, I didn't expect them to acknowledge me and pick up where we left off and I expected them to move on with other friends.  When they came to Apple Valley High School, many of them changed.  They no longer acknowledged me in the halls and I in turn didn't acknowledge them.  That's how it was then.

Since I got most of my friends back before 10th grade concluded, I was happy.  I was a part of a group again and it felt great.  Sure there were problems every group faces: backstabbing, exclusion, and mutual friends disliking each other but it was okay.  This world isn't perfect and for us to expect it would be unrealistic.  But the clique started to unravel as the year progressed.  One of the people in my group got kicked out of her mother's house so she moved in with her dad and ended up pregnant shortly after moving.  I grew tired of all the backstabbing and the others dropped out so everyone I liked started leaving.

Things were great at my job.  It still gave me an opportunity to distract myself from life's woes and it gave me a chance to get out of the house.  I had no friends to hang out with so I considered working hanging out.

Still though, I felt lonely.  Since the clique I hung out with disbanded, I tried to find other people to hang out with.  I was dismissed as a wannabe so I would move on to another group but it was more of the same.  I felt alienated again but this time I didn't take it so personally.  Most of the time, I didn't eat lunch at school because nobody would join me.  Also, the people I was friends with didn't share the same lunch period as I did.  I didn't even share a class with them so the only time I would talk to them was between classes.  Five minutes isn't enough time to have an engaging conversation at all.  At this point, I wished I was a senior and I wished I was already graduated.  I got sick of the every day grind and not having anyone to hang out with.

Sure, I had friends but they all dropped out, moved or they were life long friends who attended other schools.  Getting together with them was a rare instance.  The classes I shared with former friends, I didn't sit next to them.  One of them I did sit next to but I didn't talk to her.  I tried to strike up conversations with her but she wanted no part of it.  Also, one of my other former friends was a loner much like me and I tried to reconnect with her as well, but it went nowhere.

Another thing that made me lonely was I would see all the couples in the halls and it made me sad.  I wished I had a boyfriend too and every guy I had a crush on wasn't interested in me.  They treated me like one of the guys instead of a potential girlfriend. One of them went so far to tell me he thought I was pretty when we were kids but he said I turned into an ugly girl.  Looking back at it, I had more meaningful friendships with boys instead of girls because men don't feel the need to be fake and I liked that.  Sometimes I felt like a boy was ready to ask me out but I would see them in the halls holding some other girl's hand. Or they would talk to me about a girl they had feelings for so they asked me how they should go about asking her out.

A part of me didn't trust the opposite sex.  In seventh grade, I was made the butt of a very cruel joke.  Two boys asked me out.  One of them asked me out and I said yes and a week later, he broke up with me. A week later, another boy asked me out and broke up with me a couple days later as well.  I heard that one of the boys was going to get some money if he kissed me and it didn't happen.  The other relentlessly sexually harassed me and it continued for the rest of seventh grade, eighth grade and part of ninth grade.  We made amends in ninth grade but in tenth grade, he began again telling people I gave him oral sex.  I told him it wasn't true and he knew he was lying.  Back in seventh grade, I didn't tell anyone that he was sexually harassing me.  He had his mother come to school with him for parents day in seventh grade and he introduced me to her as his girlfriend.  I told him in front of his mother that I wasn't.  In tenth grade, I told the counselor about it with one of my friends urging me to do so.  He was upset and the people he told were also called into the office and they were upset with me too.  Again, I was ostracized.

I lied about having boyfriends to ward off boys who I had no interest in.  People would ask me if I did have a boyfriend and I told them yes because I didn't want to look bad.  I didn't want people to see me as a prude.  I feel bad about lying that I had them.  I was afraid to date because of what happened in seventh grade.

A few weeks before Junior year ended, I picked up a bad habit. I started smoking.  I remember my brother telling me he was a smoker and I took his news pretty well.  I told him I couldn't believe he was but a lot of my classmates smoked, my dad smoked and other family members did so I was curious to try one.  I remember being at a barbecue with one of my friends and the group that was there tried to get me to start but at the time I wasn't interested.  Finally the night came.  My parents were out of the house for the night and my brother had his friend Dan over.  I was in my room and he knocked on the door and said "Shannon, you wanna have a smoke with us?"

"Sure," I said.

We went outside and my brother took out his pack of cigarettes.  He gave me one and he taught me how to light it.  He told me to inhale it deeply and exhale and my first cigarette got me sick.  I remembered how dizzy I was and I remember the horrible taste in my mouth.  I felt nauseous and felt like I had to throw up but I didn't.  My brother told me to drink a couple glasses of milk afterwards and I would be fine.  For my brother being two years younger than me, he was right.  The milk did help get the taste out of my mouth and it helped the nausea.  I vowed to never smoke again, but I slowly became addicted.

Junior year ended on a positive note.  I knew next year at the same time I would have already graduated and I wouldn't have to see those people again.  I saw that I had enough credits and I planned to graduate after winter trimester.  I was on the home stretch, baby!

The summer before senior year was more of the same.  It was all work, work, work.  All work and no play made Shannon a dull girl. There was something I was looking forward to: my brother would join me in high school for his Freshman year.  It had been six years since we last attended school together.  I liked seeing him around in the halls when we went to Cedar Park Elementary. High school would be more of the same.

Year Four: 12th Grade, Senior Year

At long last, senior year arrived.  In February of 1995 I would be graduated and I would never have to see the halls of the school again.  I didn't plan to go to the commencement that would happen in June.  I planned to work that night.  I planned a quiet exit.

The feel of my senior year was comparable to eighth grade.  I think most of us were happy that in a few short months, we would be graduating and starting a new chapter in our lives.  I got along pretty well with everybody and the bullying pretty much stopped.  My sense of humor was returning and it was an all around good year for me.

I took a lot of art classes that year and it made me regret that I didn't take more the years before.  My works got a lot of complements and I really liked being able to work with my hands and being able to create something.  The people in my art classes were also very friendly and it seemed like they were not judgmental of me.

In my senior year, I met a transplant from Illinois.  She was very shy and sat a lot by herself.  I knew that in my school, if you're a new student, chances are you'll go unnoticed and I felt compelled to talk to her.  I remember in my journalism class, we had to do some research in the library and I saw her sitting at a table all by herself.  She was reading a book so I took it upon myself to befriend her.  We talked and I think we hit it off pretty well.  Little did I know that I would still be talking to her this day.

I still had fear that any friend I got close with would end up leaving.  Two people, a brother and sister, just moved to Utah, and another one of my friends decided to go to the ALC.  She grew tired of the rules at AVHS and she was going to leave after the first trimester.  We hung out a few times outside of school.  She was a great friend and I wished I hung out with her more.  Also, people I talked to a lot were planning to graduate early.  At the time, I was planning to as well.

As the year progressed, my parents starting to talk about my post high school education and they knew I was planning to graduate early.  They asked me what my plans were and I told them I wanted to just work and wait a year to go to college.  I wasn't sure of what I wanted to do with myself and I wanted some time to decide but they told me I should look into going to college anyway after leaving second trimester.  I wasn't too keen on the idea of ending one school and starting another one right away like my sister did.  So I made a choice to stay on for another trimester.  I made an appointment with the guidance counselor and I asked him if it was at all possible if I could have some classes for the spring.  He said yes so he gave me a list of classes to sign up for and I did.

More of the same happened.  More of my friends dropped out so I was left alone again with the transplant from Illinois.  At that time, she found more friends to hang out so that made me happy for her.  Also, all the boys I was in love with were interested in other people so that made me a little depressed.  Winter trimester was hard on me academically.  I passed my classes but I could have done much better. I was working a lot so that yielded me very little time to do my homework.  I would use study hall to catch up on sleep, but that didn't happen.  I talked to quite a few people who were in my study hall.  A few of them were from the popular crowd and I got along with them pretty well.  They told the funniest jokes and they were really kind and sweet to me.

Going to school with my brother was great as well.  He was everything I wasn't in school.  He had a lot of friends, he was involved in sports, he went to a lot of parties, dances, games and what not, everyone liked him very much and I was happy to see that.  Some of the popular kids in my graduating class had siblings who were in my brother's class.  They found out who he was and my brother told them I was not a bad person.  They needed to give me a chance and some of them did.  One of them told him he wasn't going to hold it against him that I was his sister.  It hurt a little when my brother told me he said that but by that time, I didn't take people so personally as I did four years before.

I was able to laugh at myself when I said or did something strange.  I also learned how to give shit to people without coming off as a bitch.  Still though, I still didn't have a lot of self confidence and in some ways I still thought people were against me.  I had no intention of seeing any of my classmates after graduation.  I didn't plan to go to the commencement ceremony or the all night party.  I still wanted a quiet exit but as the third trimester began and pressed on, I changed my mind.  I was going to do both of those things.

During my last week of high school, another tragedy happened.  For a long time, my maternal grandmother suffered from Alzheimers.  While I was in high school, her mental state kept reverting back to a baby.  She passed away and while she was in the twilight of her life, I didn't tell anyone of her.  I thought they had enough of me talking about my dad's parents that I saved them from talking about my mom's mother.  The day before I graduated high school, she passed away.

The year ended with a sense of closure for me.  I went to my commencement and I felt happy that I got over my pride and fear.  The all night party was a blast and when it concluded, my mom came to pick me up.  I walked through that door the last time, I walked on the pavement that I walked on so many times and opened my mom's car door.  I closed the door and buckled my seat belt and a sense of great relief came over me.  It was bittersweet because I was grieving the loss of my grandmother and I was celebrating the end of high school. That long, arduous chapter in my life was over.

Epilogue: Post High School and Beyond

After high school ended, I attended college at the Rosemount Dakota County Technical College.  I wasn't a good student.  I didn't do my homework, I wasn't ready to go and I didn't realize how hard it would be.  The first year, my major was in computer programming and I failed that miserably.  Also, I met my husband my first year of school.  He was the first and only boyfriend I had.

The healing process began for me as well.  I was no longer bullied, I didn't have to worry about being judged anymore and I began to let go of the teen anger that I had built up all these years.  Forgiving people who wronged me slowly but surely was easy to come by and I think I finally lightened up to people.

When I met Ted, he introduced me to his friends and soon my social life went from non existent to being gone every day off from work I had.  I was exposed to a lot of different people and it was kind of a shock to me.  For a long time, it was overwhelming to me since I rarely went out before and many of my husband's friends were old enough to be my parents.  I enjoyed hanging out with them and I would see a lot of them until I got married and had my children.

In the years since leaving high school, I still shuddered at the thought of going to my high school reunion, but my sister said something to me.  She told me I should go and she said I would regret it if I didn't.  My sister wasn't the most popular but she went to hers and she had a great time.  She said the same would go for me so eight years ago when I was VERY pregnant with my daughter, I went.  I was met with smiles, some hugs and great conversations.

Also, when social media became popular, I found quite a few of my classmates on Myspace and later Facebook.  As the friend requests started to fill in my roster of friends, I have come to realize that many people I went to high school with struggled just as much or even more than I did.  Their experiences sounded a lot like my own so it was so nice to realize that I wasn't alone.  Perhaps I was too self-absorbed to notice.  Every Wednesday before Thanksgiving, there were mini-reunions at Rascal's.  Though I have only attended the last two, I felt like I was welcome and I didn't feel like I was judged.  As with the reunion, I was met with smiles, waves and hugs.  People weren't against me after all.  It was all in my mind.

Even as adults, we have the same struggles that give us a common ground whether it comes to raising children, jobs, foreclosures, job loss, health crises, divorce, etc.

I wish I could have gone back in time and looked at my life with a more positive attitude but I feel like I'm making up for it now, and that's all that counts. Even after almost nineteen years of graduating high school, I'm still very much a loner.  I keep searching for people to talk with and make me feel like I belong and it still hasn't really happened.  I'm hopeful though and I don't take it so personally.

So there you have it.  I hope I ended this blog on an uplifting note.  Thank you.

Sweet Taste of Liberation Part 1

It seems like in the last two and a half years, I have done a lot of soul searching.  I took some time out of my schedule to examine my friendships, decide who cares about me and who doesn't, give second chances to people who I thought deserved them and see where God would take me.  I have to admit for the last two and a half years, it's been a wild ride.  Let me take you on it if you're ready.

Two and a half years ago, unbeknownst to me, I became pregnant with my son.  It was late summer of 2010, and I was at a party with a bunch of coworkers.  We were celebrating my direct supervisor's last day and it was a fun occasion.  It was a fun night.  Coming home, I was thinking about a group of people I hung out with in high school.  One of them was going to have a church wedding with a man she eloped with nearly a year before and I was expecting an invitation from her.  However, we had a little tiff nearly a year before(December of 2009) and she hasn't brought herself to talk to me.

The invitation never came so I thought I'd re-examine that friendship with her.  We had been friends since I was a freshman in high school.  She often moved and it was always up to me to find out where she moved to.  This continued for a number of years.  She hung out with a group I also hung out with.  I would do things with them outside of school and I thought they were great.  I have to admit this group of people I hung out with were damaged people.  They were teased a lot, they came from broken homes, they were a part of the troublemakers, experimented with drugs and alcohol so I thought at the time, it was cool to hang out with them.  They gave me insight to a world that was different from the one I had.  I was a work-a-holic so I didn't get to hang out with them as much as I wished.

Over the years since getting reacquainted with them, I saw the pictures they posted from back in high school and I noticed I was absent from them.  They saw a lot of each other outside of school and they never even bothered to ask me if I wanted to join them.  Even if I was a work-a-holic back then, it would have been great to at least get an invitation.  That, for some reason, angered me.  Also, I discovered that they still maintained contact with each other over the years and that made me feel angered and depressed as well.

Still, though, back in the summer of 2009 I was invited to a party from one of them.  It was going to be a reunion of the people I used to hang out with and I planned to come.  I took the time off work so I could go and I was psyched about it.  The party fell on PGA weekend at the Hazeltine Golf Course in Chaska and it was a huge event.  All the housekeeping staff had a meeting and my boss told me time off requests for that weekend were going to be denied so I was upset about that.  It had been about sixteen years since I saw most of them and I tried explaining that to my boss.  I told her it was very important for me to go and I had been waiting for this for a long time but she told me there would be no exceptions.

I told my old friend that I couldn't go because of work and he told me to call in sick that day.  I told him I couldn't because I already talked to my boss about his party and if I called in sick for that day, I would be fired.  Since then, I wasn't invited to another party.  In the meantime, the pictures of the times they had together since have been posted on their Facebooks and all those feelings came back after being on pause since high school.

Fast forward to September of 2010.  My friend with whom I had a tiff with was going to have her wedding.  I wasn't invited.  It just tore away at me the days leading up to the wedding.  These 'friends' of mine were talking about transportation to the party and how much fun it was going to be.  I made a comment that I wished I was coming but my comment was ignored so finally I kicked them to the curb.  Every single person in that group with the exception of a couple of them.  The day after, they were boasting about how much fun the wedding was and they need to see more of each other.  I couldn't take it anymore so I deleted them from my phone, my Facebook and most importantly, my life.

Nearly a year ago, this friend who had her wedding gave birth to a son and I told her congratulations.  Though we're not friends anymore, I wish her and the rest of the group the best.  I don't harbor any bad will to them at all.

In retrospect, maybe it was a good thing I didn't see these people as much as I would have liked to back in high school.  They were miserable people and I'm sure they would have lead me down the dark paths they have taken.  I would have experimented with drugs, I would have cut my classes and probably my job as well, I would have dropped out of high school like many of them did, so I guess it's for the best.

After kicking them to the curb, I revisited a friendship that I blogged about.  You can refer to my blog entitled "Losing a Friend Over Something Stupid".  That friendship ended on a sour note too.  The loss of that friendship wasn't even my fault.  She told me she couldn't handle what one of my good online friends said to her so she said she wanted nothing to do with me.  It's too bad she used me as a scapegoat to ending the friendship.

I will be writing part 2 sometime this week.  Anyway, it felt good kicking that group of people to the curb and I haven't looked back since.