FahnDUSTeek.

I think I've settled on a name that will represent the Penny I like being - the real, everyday me.

Penny Fantastic. Only not pronounced Fan-tas-tic. You have to say it like this, syllable by sillyble:

Lower your chin just a bit, bite your bottom lip all sexy-like, close your eyes, and whisper Fahhhhhn in your best Salma Hayek / Antonio Banderas voice.

When you get to the Tast part (only pronouced more like DUST), raise your chin quickly and shake your head just enough to create the effect of the wind in your hair.

And on the final syllable, Teek, open your eyes and smile warmly. Add a contented sigh, if you are so inclined. Or lick your lips; that's fun, too.

Practice it in front of the mirror. I did.

I still love the moniker Penny McBadass, and she'll make periodic appearances, I'm sure. I'd love to unleash Penny McBadass on the Church Nazi, for example. I watched One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (which'll make you feel pretty good about your life and snap you into sanity pretty quickly, let me just say) over the weekend, and dude, Church Nazi is FULL ON Miss Ratched. Down to the hairdo.

Beebie's party was an overwhelming success, I was so relieved. I didn't think I needed to tell you that I'd lost sleep worrying about it the night before. Anyone who knows me would assume that. And anyone who's been to one of my parties knows I really had nothing to worry about - I'm a great party planner. The girls had so much fun. R did a great job getting them to the Old Courthouse, the New Cathedral, Union Station, the Aloe Fountain, and Ted Drewes to find clues that would help them find the treasure. They even got to take the Metrolink, which they loved. West County kids don't always get to experience Public Transportation.

It was a long day, too. The girls arrived at 1, got back to the house for Imo's Pizza (a St. Louis tradition), and didn't leave until almost 8. At about 8:30, RVW came over, straight from a 14-hour drive from the Canadian border. He helped us finish off the pizza and had some of our awesome cheap beer. I explained to Rip my relationship with the Hamm (and apologized for being a shitty hostess and not engaging in deep, philosophical conversation) and informed him that at 9 we would be watching Mad Men. And we did. Good times. Missed ya, Rip.

I've enjoyed my first day of cable, kinda. I discovered a show called HURL! which Pie and I watched together. Five contestants eat as much of some designated food (this time it was Cream of Spinach soup) as they can and then they get on some Carnival ride and try not to Hurl while the crowd below cheers them on and tries to avoid the barf raining from the sky. The winner ate 3.7 pounds of soup, rode the Flamethrower without Hurling, then ate another couple of pounds of Organic Tuna Casserole (not sure what the Organic part had to do with anything, but they pointed it out). Major creativity props to whatever high school kids came up with the concept for that show.

I was hoping that there would be lots more choices available to me when I inevitably woke up at about 3am. And there really wasn't. I flipped through all 8000 channels for about twenty minutes and finally decided to watch the last few minutes of The Brady Bunch. It was one of the later episodes, when Bobby and Cindy were in awkward phases of puberty and Jan had those two dipshit curls on the sides of her head in addition to her long blonde hair.

The kids are LOVING cable. And they didn't come in and wake me up this morning like they usually do. That's worth the money, right there.

Damn you, Hamm!

For years, I have prided myself on the fact that my household is cable-free. It was an expense I could never justify, and I didn't want my kids to turn into TV junkies (right now they're just PBS junkies, which doesn't seem as bad since it's educational). And you may remember the less-than-stellar customer service experience I had with those fuckin fuckwits at Charter. My blood boils every time I think about that bullshit.

I've endured countless Sunday afternoons in which two network channels were showing Golf at the same time. I never even minded having to wait for entire seasons of a cable show to be released on DVD. So what if I'm a year behind? Just don't tell me what's going to happen.

Anyway, as I've mentioned, for the last several days R and I have been watching Season One of Mad Men on DVD. Yesterday we finished the last disc.

Today we're having cable installed so we can watch the Season Two Premiere tonight. And it's all because of Jonathan Hamm, The Beautiful Man.

CURSE YOU AND YOUR DASHING GOOD LOOKS AND GOD-LIKE PHYSIQUE!!! YOUR SLAMMIN' BOD, YOUR IMPOSSIBLE BEAUTY!!! YOUR PAINFULLY SEXY VOICE!!! THE WAY YOU LOOK IN THOSE DAPPER SUITS!!! GAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!
I WISH I COULD QUIT YOU!

I figure I'll pay for it out of my yarn budget. I can't remember the last time I bought yarn. Seriously. I haven't knit once since I made that corsage for Maeby months ago. Wait, I knit a little bit at the Steve Miller concert, maybe three or four rows, but that's it. I just haven't felt like it recently.

In other news, today is Beebie's birthday party. The Odyssexy is transformed, check it!



The party will be a treasure hunt that takes Beeb and her friends to various local landmarks to find clues. R will be the navigator, I'm staying home with the boys. I hope R's patience holds up.

Busy Week.

I decided to try halving my dose of Wellbutrin and cutting out caffeine completely. We'll see if it makes a difference.

The big news of the week was that my parents came to visit and Beebie turned eleven (which, as you know, is one better than ten). My parents' visit was pleasant, drama-free, and full of the unconditional love that I grew up with and R didn't. I needed that. My mom even said I looked like I'd lost weight. Why, thank you, yes, I have.

The kids were SO GOOD. I was so, so proud of them. My parents had kinda had a whirlwind last two weeks, with Grandma's funeral and everything, then my mom had to fly home, work a day, then fly here early the next morning. They really needed a vacation, so I talked to the kids and let them know that Nana and PopPop might be a little tired when they're here. Most of the time we all just hung out at our friend B's pool, which is what would have been the kids' first choice anyway, so it worked out great.

We all even went shopping one of the days (I don't even know what day it is today, honestly, this week's been hella nuts) and spent nearly 5 hours at the mall. And nobody whined, nobody complained, nobody acted like a butthead, they were awesome. Beeb got a bunch of cute new stuff for school and the boys got some stuff too, so everyone was happy. Mom even bought me some skinny jeans and two pairs of skinny shorts because the ones I was wearing were about to fall off of me.

Another day we took the kids to see Wall-E (I was a little bummed out about seeing it, because a while ago KOFA and I had talked about seeing it with all of our kids, but he's not really back in my life yet). During the movie, I kept hearing a weird sound from a guy in the row behind me, somewhere between a grunt and a moan. It was repetitive, but not exactly rhythmic.
Completely weird.

And of course, my mind went all kinds of crazy places, thinking there's some psycho freak sitting directly behind my little boy, spankin' it in a movie theater full of kids. I didn't want to turn around and call attention to it, because A) I figured that was what he wanted and B) I didn't want Tito to turn around and witness said psycho freak Punchin' the Clown because I'm just really not prepared to handle the Masturbation Conversation right now, ok?? Call me old-fashioned, but Tito's five. He's still figuring out how to pee without taking his pants all the way off.

These disturbing noises went on for the ENTIRE movie. Nobody else was turning around or saying anything to the guy, was I the only one who could hear it? He sat down after we did so I didn't know if there were people sitting near him or what and I couldn't turn around discreetly. Seriously, I thought I'd be sick.

And then finally the lights came on, and I turned around to discover that sitting behind us was a group of handicapped kids/young adults. And I felt like an asshole. But admit it, you'd have thought the same thing I did when you heard that sound.

Annnnnnyway, Beeb got to go see the Jonas Brothers Tuesday night with some of her friends. In her words, OHMYGOSHMOMICANTBELIEVEITWASSOAWESOMEYOUTOTALLYSHOULDHAVEBEENTHERETHEBESTPARTWASWHENJOETOOKOFFHISJACKETANDEVERYBODYSCREAMEDITWASSOOOOOMUCHFUNIHADTHEBESTTIMEEVER (inhale)SERIOUSLYMOMITWASTHEBESTCONCERTEVERIAMTOTALLYGONNAMARRYNICKJONASHEISSOGORGEOUSOHMYGOSHYOUSHOULDHAVEHEARDTHEMSINGINTHEYEAR3000ANDYOURGREATGREATGREATGRANDDAUGHTERISDOINGFINE...

Yeah. The girls had made some posters to take to the concert which were confiscated at the gate (y'know, cuz 11 year old girls running around with paper are scary and dangerous). The security people promised to make sure the Jo Bros got them, and then the girls were bummed out that they hadn't thought to write their names and phone numbers on the posters. But it was fun to see Beebie so excited. She had a blast.

Wednesday, her birthday, also happened to be the day that my parents went home. That's always a sad day for all of us, myself included. I like my parents. I love that my kids have so much fun with them. And it's so laid back, too. Nothing we could do would make them not love us anymore.

Such a contrast from hanging out with the Inlaws. There's always the possibility that you might not get invited back to FIL's, although that would mean he can't belittle and intimidate you in person anymore which wouldn't be any fun for him, so I doubt he'd really enforce it; he'd just threaten it. Fuck that. I'm glad my kids see that FIL's way is not the only way.

Ok, so for her birthday Beeb chose to go to Dairy Queen for lunch. They have some damn good burgers there. Who knew? At some point while we were all eating our Dilly Bars, somebody spilled their ice water in my mom's lap.

I fuckin LOVE having a camera with me at all times.




The kids thought it was funny.


And it was.


But it got funnier.



And funnier.



And FUNNIER.


And finally she just sat spread eagle in the sun, hoping her crotch would dry before she had to get on the plane.



And the best part - I can cry again! I cried laughing. And I cried when they left, too. Mostly because the kids were so pitiful.

Is it wrong to be proud?

Your result for The Verbal Obscenity Test...

Champion Cusser

You are 70% capable of making other people's ears hurt!

So, how'd you do?



I'm in awe, since you're clearly not afraid of a little rough language! At the same time, you don't go completely mad with it, and I'm guessing you know when to hold your tongue so people don't want to punch you. Which is awesome, since being beaten up is such a drag anyway. You might pull out the swear words - and you might know the various slang fairly well - but you probably also appreciate that its use is mainly just to show that you mean business.



What occasion, I hear you ask? Well, some people find talking dirty arousing. Sometimes swearing can be helpful in looking tough when one of those hoodlum-types approaches you. Using some language on your boss may also be effective in stirring things up, but maybe that's just me. Either way, be careful, as getting your timing wrong can result in getting fired, or sleeping alone for the next month. Use your good judgement!




I've got some other tests you can try if you like...

The Celebrity Misbehaviour Test

Find out what your life as a celebrity would be like.

The Shampoo Commercial Suitability Test

Is YOUR hair worth it?

The Excessive Cuteness Tolerance Test

Say it with me: "awwwwwwwwwwwwww!"

Is Your Boss Evil?

... or are they just really thick?

The Internet/SMS Literacy Test

Do you know your LOLs from your LMAOs?

The Scatterbrain Test

Are you ready? Are you focused?

The Underwear Personality Test

Most of us wear underwear. Should you? What kind?

The Beverage Identity Test

If you were a drink, would you tingle the tastebuds?

The Non-Sequitur Personality Test

It won't make any sense, but it's not supposed to.

The Homicidal Maniac Test

My first test. Want to know if you're likely to wreak bloody havoc?




Finally, a fun link for those of you interested in brushing up on your swearing skills: click here to view The "Alternative" English Dictionary





Take The Verbal Obscenity Test at HelloQuizzy

Numb.

I feel like my medicated posts are not nearly as engrossing as the ones with the raw, unfiltered emotion throughout. I'm a better writer when I'm feeling the feelings I'm writing about. Sorry if I've become boring, BMB faithful. If it's any consolation, I'm boring to me too.

I've been sleeping about 4 consecutive hours for the last couple of nights, which is great, for me, but I'm still having a hard time waking up during the day. I still feel kinda foggy and not all there. Stuff that should affect me doesn't. That's the price I pay for not having the stuff that really shouldn't be a big deal bring me down like before. It's a sucky situation any way you look at it, really.

It feels so unnatural. Stuff that probably shouldn't make me cry but normally would isn't making me cry anymore, which I suppose is a good thing, but the things that should make me cry don't either. I'm apathetic. I'm detached. I don't like it.

So Tired.

I haven't been sleeping well at all since going back on the meds. Occasionally I've been able to sneak in a quick afternoon nap, but for the most part I'm running on pure adrenaline, and that tank's about dry.

So I have a bunch of random stuff to mention. None of it's earth-shattering, I just felt like talking.

Last night RVW invited us over to swim in his backyard pool. The kids and I went over in the afternoon, and R met us after work. Rip was so cool, he brought a cooler of Old Style to the pool and then he offered to make dinner for all of us. So nice! I love "play it by ear" kinds of evenings. He made chicken and peas and potatoes and the kids ate all of it. They were so polite and well-behaved. I was really proud. I'm a hardass, but it's so that when we go places, they don't act like morons. And they were great. It was a fun night.

R and I don't have cable so we like to rent entire seasons of TV shows. Six Feet Under remains my all-time favorite (although if the cocksuckin tittylickers at HBO hadn't cancelled Deadwood, I'd be willing to bet Swearengen would have passed up Fisher and Sons). But we've been watching Mad Men, and if you guys haven't seen it, it really brilliant.

I've wanted to see it since Jon Hamm won a Golden Globe and an Emmy nomination for his role on the show, cuz he's a Local Boy Done Good. Let me tell ya a bit about him. Remember my roommate Shirley who did the pumpkin stalking of that one dude with me? Jon wasn't the pumpkin stalking victim, but she and I had an English class with Jon back at MU in the early nineties, and even back then one could just sense that he was going to go on to be Somebody.

He didn't know us from Adam, but a sorority sister of ours knew him through the Theater department, so we'd always know what play he was going to be in next. He was quite impressive as Lysander in Midsummer Night's Dream. And we paid top coin for good seats.

We called him Jonathan Hamm - The Beautiful Man. Seriously, I can recall him so clearly, my heart still ... hang on ... stops when I think about that guy.

He'd walk in the room, his handsomely chiseled features shadowed by a baseball cap, and we would just swoon. He was, like, impossibly beautiful. That's the only way I can think to describe him. Beyond beautiful. He was aesthetically flawless. Like a work of art, almost. When he spoke, it would jolt us because we couldn't believe he was real. And he had the sexxxxxiest voice, too. Oh, my God, when he'd answer a question in class, we'd just melt.

Fuck, I need a drink. I'm sweating.

Anyway, R and I have been watching this show, and girls, you owe it to yourselves to check this dude out. He is a wicked fuckin sexy man. And he plays a bad boy, too. My favorite.

God forbid Jon Hamm Googles himself and finds this.

Penny Who?

Ok, I'm still kicking around some Penny names, and here's the criteria I want you all to use when offering your opinion:

It needs to sound good with the words "DON'T FUCK WITH... " in front of it.

Don't fuck with Penny Fantastic. (not hard core enough?)
Don't fuck with Penny Unstoppable. (too many syllables?)
Don't fuck with Penny McBadass. (a salute to my pseudo-Irishness)

I'm still taking nominations. I need to make a decision soon though, so I can test out this new Penny persona. Maybe later on today I'll kick in a door and yell "DON'T FUCKIN FUCK WITH PENNY MCBADASS!" just to see if it works for me.

Y'know, for research purposes.

Also, try the Penny name coupled with the following phrases:

The Wrath Of...
Tell 'em ... (insert Penny name of your choice) sentcha!

And it would probably be good, when testing out your Penny nominee, to slur the words a bit, to see if it would sound impressively intimidating and menacing if a drunk person said it. Cuz chances are, a drunk person probably will.

Is It Day Six Already?

Here are some of the Penny names I've been kicking around. I can't decide which one I like best.

Penny Supreme
Penny Fantastic
Penny Royale
Ultra Penny

I thought of Penny Supreme as the "One Penny to rule them all". But then I just like the sound of Penny Fantastic. Penny Royale is good too, but it also has a bit of a Diva vibe to it that's not really me. Ultra Penny sounds kinda like a super hero, kinda like a maxi pad. So I'm torn.


Today is the final day of the Anti-Stellathon. Tuesday we met at Grant's Farm. Don't know if you've been watching the news, but the recent buyout of Anheuser-Busch put the future of My Second Home in jeopardy. And that might be why, when we arrived, there was a HELLA CRAZY line in the parking lot (if you've ever been there, it extended past where the busses park) like I've never seen, just to cross the street so you could wait in another line to get on the Tram. But the word on the street is that Grant's Farm is safe. Thank Saint Arnold. I'da been so pissed.

We stood in line for at least 40 minutes, rode the tram to where the animals are, literally sprinted through the animal section (nope, can't pet the goats today, kids!), then I got in the beer line and sucked that Select back in less than 5 minutes (and she had a sip of it - swear to God!) while she and the kids got in the return-tram line to go back home. That was it. And believe it or not, none of the kids complained.

Yesterday we took the kids to see Shrek 3, and today we took them to see Veggie Tales - The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything. Shrek 3 was okay, but Veggie Tales had kindof an abstract plot that I didn't really understand. And I thought if I, an adult of above-average intelligence, didn't understand it, then how's a kid going to understand it? But I guess if they see a bunch of animated characters on a big screen and hear a poop joke, they're gonna like it, so whatever, it was free.

It's been almost a week on the meds, and I feel considerably better. I don't know why Penny Dark fights the meds so hard. This is how I want to feel. I would describe it to the unmedicated as almost a slight delay at the start of what might be an intense moment which allows me to slow down my emotional reaction long enough to feel like I am in control of it.


This leads me into a bit of Damage Control. I assume my regulars know who upset me so much last week. Well, let me give you some insight into the drama. First and foremost, we are very close friends, and it is a loving, yet platonic relationship. R is fully aware of it, nothing has happened behind his back, no lines have been crossed, there are no secrets, but there are obviously very deep feelings. My emotions last week are clearly indicative of that.

But really, the root of it is a dear friendship. And let me tell you something about FS-H. He is the kind of friend who's not afraid to kick my ass when it needs kicking, even if it meant I might never talk to him again. And my ass needed kicking. Without giving too much unnecessary detail, too much of my heart and my energy was going into my relationship with FS-H. I know R felt it too, and I feel horrible about it now.

Full Spectrum - Heartbreaker's decision to walk away was so that I could focus more on R and my kids. Yeah, it hurt because it felt like it came out of nowhere, and I didn't want to lose his friendship, but it was the right thing. I've never disagreed with that. He didn't do anything wrong. And I was never really angry, just unbeliveably sad.

The problem was, after our last phone conversation last Monday, I didn't necessarily think it was forever. I knew it might be a while before I would hang out with him, because R is going to make the call as to when he feels that my focus is where it should be and that my friendship with FS-H is not detracting from our marriage (and if R never gets to that point, then yes, I realize it could possibly be forever, but I don't think it will come to that). So yeah, I was upset, but I felt like he and I were on the same page with it, and it still didn't feel permanent, if that makes sense.

And then on Tuesday morning, I spoke to a friend of his who had spent time with him Monday night (and who reads this blog - but probably won't read it anymore after today), and this person led me to believe, beyond any doubt, that it was, indeed OVER. FOREVER. Get over it, move on. I'm really trying to be fair and keep my personal opinions out of it, so maybe this person was trying to be my friend and make me focus like they knew FS-H wanted me to, and it's possible that this friend sincerely believed that what they were saying was true. I suppose I can see that, giving them the benefit of the doubt.

But at no time did this person say anything even remotely encouraging like "Well, maybe you're right, maybe it's not forever." No, no. IT WAS OVER. No question. Pack it up, girl, he's gone. I honestly didn't think it was, when I last spoke to him directly, but after I talked to this friend, suddenly I was 100% sure I would never, ever hear from him again.

I truly believed that he'd left without saying Goodbye or I'm sorry, without clarifying the status to make sure I understood, without emotion, without anything that sounded like a Final Scene, you know? Wasn't he going to miss me? The way I know him, he would never do that to me. I should have trusted my gut, but I didn't.

Bottom line, my entire outlook on the situation was changed solely through my conversation with this one individual. I'm trying really hard not to slam them, I'm not bringing up any past history or inserting any of my own theories which might shed some light on their possible motivation, but that is the absolute, hand-to-God truth. I was relatively ok, UNTIL I spoke to this person. Then I was a fucking mess, as you all witnessed.

THAT's what fucked with my head. Not what he actually did, what someone else led me to believe he did. I allowed someone else to poison my thinking. I let someone else make me think things about him that I knew weren't consistent with his character. I let them turn me away from him when he hadn't done anything wrong. I knew better, I knew better. I knew he wouldn't treat me like that, and yet, I believed, completely.

And the last week, I've had to decide whether to let Penny Dark rule my world or pull myself together and continue with my life. As you've read recently, it's been difficult. But the way I see it,
FS-H gave me a gift.

A big ol' kick in the ass.

I went back on the meds. I've been more patient with my kids and I've enjoyed spending more time with them. I've been more loving towards R, and R's been more loving towards me. We've enjoyed each other's company. It's been wonderful.

FS-H gave me clarity, sanity, patience, a fun summer with my kids, a reconnection with my fantastic husband (and you all think you know how much I love R, but he has stood by me through it all and I love him like you can't imagine) and a loving, happy marriage that is growing stronger every day.

Even if I never get to talk to him again, EVERYONE should have a friend like KOFA.

(That really wasn't a surprise, was it?)

Here's What Keeps Me Going.

So you might have seen the comment Anti-Stella (FerrisFamilyFun) left me yesterday. I called last night to see if she was serious. She was. So after I take Beeb to the doctor this morning, I'm gonna go git my A.M. drank on.

AND, just to amuse myself and others of like mind, I'm totally gonna make Anti-Stella (who's about to pop out a kid, like, any second) waddle up and get her complimentary samples just so I can see the looks on people's faces. And so I can drink her free samples, of course, DUH! I'll take a picture if she's cool with it.

Tomorrow and Thursday we're taking the kids to see free movies at AMC and Wehrenberg, respectively. And then Friday I'll be cleaning my house and getting ready for my parents to come over on Saturday. I'll be to Meds Day 10 before I know it. That'll help.

Yesterday I took Pie to the doctor. He said his tummy hurt and it hurt him to pee. My immediate instinct, given his issues, was that it was his kidneys. I got him in to see the pediatrician later that morning, and on the way there, I tried to prepare him for the fact that he would have to pee in a cup. He's never done that before, and he doesn't like things that break from the norm, so I thought a heads-up might be in order.

We got to the doctor's office and I wish I could properly articulate how funny the whole scene was. Pie stood there slackjawed while the nurse handed me the cups (one empty, one with soapy water and cotton balls, one with clear water and cotton balls) and explained to me how to use them. We went into the bathroom and I told him to get it in the cup and not on my shoes, or we're gonna have words.

I must have scared him.

He just kinda stood there with this ridiculously inconvenienced expression - chin jutting out, eyes rolled, exasperated sigh. Total classic Pie. I was trying so hard not to laugh.

Dude, c'mon...

I don't want to do this! I think I feel better!

Which totally reminded me of when the old man in the Bring Out Yer Dead! scene in Holy Grail says I think I'll go for a walk, so I started to giggle a little bit. That really, forgive the pun, pissed him off. He put his hands on his hips, which looked absolutely hysterical with his shorts around his ankles.

So I asked him if he'd rather sit down, and that worked much better. And as we were washing our hands, he said,

Hey, Mom... is this why we call Dr. F. a PEE-diatrician??

And I almost peed my pants.

Side Effect O' The Day: Insomnia.

I'd forgotten about the Super Colon Blow effect that anti-depressants have on me (there's really no such thing as TMI between us anymore, is there?). But I hadn't forgotten about the insomnia. I was dreading this.

The good news is that poor R will finally get some sleep. R has been so awesome, so patient - incredible in light of the some of the stuff I'm sad about. He's never told me to snap the fuck out of it, just asks me what I need and what he can do for me. He's helped with everyday stuff without being asked, like the dishes and getting the Apes ready for bed, while I've been a snivelling wreck.

The last week, y'all, FUH-HUH-HUH-HUCK.

This whole month has sucked. I've been remembering the last three July 4th parties at Chez Inlaw, including the most recent one, and I'm thinking I'll just rip July right out of my calendar. This last week and a half has been enough for me to just skip the first two weeks of July completely, forevermore.

Jack died three years ago July 9th, while we were at the Collinsville Ketchup Festival. So whenever I see the Festival on the news, I cry. I hate that we had no idea how sick he was. We knew how sick Grandma was, and we've all had time to get used to missing her. In a lot of ways, she'd been gone long before last Saturday.

I'd like to just have the second half of July, so I can go to Beeb's birthday party and not have to spend the three weeks prior feeling how much your child's birthday ages you. I'm a young 37. I never feel like any of my friends is any older or younger than me, unless there's some pop culture refernce they don't get.

Beeb's turning 11. She's going into Junior High. She's going to be at that great big school with the big kids. But she's just a teeny Beebie! She can't be that old. It makes me feel old. Like I should be smarter than I am. Like I should have learned something by now. I shouldn't make stupid mistakes. I should be able to deal with my life like a grownup. I should know who I am. That's been depressing me too.

That, and the other stuff. There's SO much I want to say about that relationship, you guys, just to put it all out there so you can understand why its untimely and unexpected end is hitting me so hard. But I'd never, ever badmouth that person, and I'd rather not rip that wound open publicly without the permission of everyone involved. And we're not talking, so it might be a while before I go there.

Ok, random tangent (I have the TV on) - how can Rachael Ray stand the sound of her own voice?

So anyway, my insomnia is good for R, because if I can't sleep, I can't snore. R and I both snore. Not always, but I have been recently. And I'll lie there in bed with my eyes closed, and the second I fall asleep enough to start hhhhhhhhhh....., R kicks me in the back. Or the ass. Or the thigh. Or else he just rubs his foot up my leg and I freak out because he knows I hate it when other people's feet touch me. It wakes me up instantly and I know exactly why he's doing it.

One of two things happens every night. Either R gets sick of kicking me and he gets up and sleeps on the sofa, or I get sick of getting kicked and I get up and sleep on the sofa. Last night I fell asleep at about 10:30, then I woke up at 12:30 and turned on the TV quietly for a few minutes while R slept. Then I got tired of trying to read the captions and I turned the TV off and tried to sleep.

I woke up at 3:40 to R kicking me.

"I'll go...", I said.

So I grabbed my favorite red blanket, went to the sofa, and waited for morning. I'm so tired. But I'm going to get up, go out with the kids, and fill my day with activity so dark thoughts don't have a chance to sneak in there. I'm going to bury myself in busy.

Here's my question for you. Is that good? Is that healthy? Or is that denial? Part of me wants to cry in my closet all day. I feel like if I wanted to be true to myself, to my feelings, that's what I'd do. By going out and doing things, am I just hiding from Penny Dark, who is an actual, real part of me? Is that okay? It might not be how everybody deals, but it kinda works for me.

I need a name for the Penny I want to be, and I don't like the name Penny Normal. Normal and me just aren't words that go together. Penny Real? Penny Me? Penny Badass? Penny Righteous? Shall we open the floor for nominations?

How about Penny Tyler Moore?
You're gonna make it after all...

Nah, I think I'm more of a Rhoda.