Sweet loser.

I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day (labeled "Bedtime Stories", I guess to dissuade snoopers??) and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me, typos and all!

Friday, October 21, 1994

Well, R's "guy" D, it turns out, has a girlfriend! He wasn't gonna tell her, either! (One of his friends asked him where his girlfriend was when he was with R!) I was not impressed! When R told me, I was so mad!

KA is a loser, but a really sweet one! He smokes dope, is a skipaholic (school), he smokes, drinks and lives to party! I don't think me & him could be anything but friends. I think he likes this girl, Christine, in our math class. They're always goofing off. I hate her. (**No idea who this girl is, no memory of a Christine!) She's really pretty. KA is so sweet. He's funny and nice but he's the exact opposite of me. All his friends do drugs (marijuana).

Drugs are EVERYWHERE in the highschool. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one not doing them.

I don't think he likes me. How can you tell if a guy likes you? It's so confusing. Why do I always like such -bad- guys? I'll see KA on the bus Monday. He'll usually sit with me or next to me. Maybe I'll be able to think up something to talk to him about!

Love,

Rainy

***I especially love how I had to do asides in my own diary... (school, marijuana) but then, I'd grown up in the country. Big bad town school was a bit of a culture shock!

Between Septembers

On communes... yay or nay?

I miss having friends.

Oh, let me clarify. I have friends. Good friends. But it often feels that I don't. But I do. Get it?

In the last months of my pregnancy with Elliot, I met and became close with another first-time mama. We really hit it off. Em was funny and raunchy and real. We talked about everything, for hours. Her daughter was 6 weeks older than Elliot. She would drop her husband off at work and come over. We'd drink coffee and moan about sleepless nights, poop and breastfeeding woes. Encourage each other. Share triumphs. The kids would lay on the floor and coo. (As Elliot got older and stronger, he'd drag himself over to her, crawl on top and suck her face. She'd cry. We'd laugh and separate them. And repeat.)

We went to mommy and me yoga. Mommy and me swimming. Mommy and me movies. We were always on the go. We both were struggling with postpartum depression. There was always an understanding adult with a shoulder to lean on and tears and laughter to share. We'd move on to wine and cheese in the middle of the day, especially if her husband kept the car and would be picking her up. We went on a week-long trip with the kids, too, on an airplane, even!

After Elliot's first plane ride... 5 mths old

She went back to work at the 1-year mark. All of my other mommy friends did, too. I found myself alone and floundering. So I went back to work, pregnant. In the last stages of Felix's pregnancy, my close friend moved away. I cried. And, though we're still in touch, neither of us really has time for long-distance relationships. The internetz help, but it's not the same as face-to-face.

While pregnant with Felix, I met another mama my age, who was also expecting her second. Her daughter was a bit younger than Elliot. They lived close by. We started hanging out at a local kid-friendly coffee shop. At the playground. Her place. My place. We would gab, the kids would wrestle and play. When my boys got chicken pox, she brought her girls over for one of those controversial Pox Parties. I learned a lot about parenting from her - she was much calmer than me, more dedicated (her kids barely knew what TV was!), they were mostly vegetarian. Very environmentally conscious. They were Good People. I felt I could become a better person, a better friend, by being so close. My identity changed to parallel hers.

Overview of a pox party

Again, there was a move. I still get misty walking by their house. And again, that long-distance thing. I suck.

I have friendship. But what I'm missing could better be described as companionship. Accomplice-ship. Just having another grown up around, all the time or at least frequently, to take the pressure off, to talk with, commiserate and share with. I've withdrawn into myself, into the internet way more than I had previously. While never an extrovert, I'm now bordering on hermit. And I don't feel like exerting the energy needed to make new friends or make the effort with the friends I do have. Going back to school? Terrifies me. There are new people there. I have to make connections. Talk to people. But I'm doing it. Probably the best thing I can do for myself, actually.

Tasty, though inappropriate given this article.

I'm in and out of bad head spaces lately, though I am getting better at recognizing the signs so I'm not blindsided. Still, the thought of joining a commune or cult or becoming a sister wife remains very, very appealing. I wish my sister lived closer. I wish I wasn't so damned dependent on others. I need to snap out of this. I need to get back on the treadmill, literally and figuratively. But wahhhhhhhhh. I don't wanna. I'm too cozy in my little hole. My sister would say, "Suck it up, Buttercup!"

Though maybe it's time to explore the goat-farming commune my friend Kelly seems to have put an awful lot of thought into. She wants to make and sell soap, be self-sustaining on our farm, with the whole village-to-raise-a-child philosophy. Sounds like heaven to me. Where do I sign up?

Then again, maybe I'm just lazy and looking for excuses, and easy way out of trials and tribulation of parenting, life, dishes and growing up. Whatever it is, I need to figure it out.  

Math class hottie

I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day (labeled "Bedtime Stories", I guess to dissuade snoopers??) and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me, typos and all!

Friday, September 30, 1994

 

DD,

There is a guy in my math class who I like and I'm pretty sure he likes me. He goes on my bus and his name is KA. His phone # is XXX-XXXX. He's really cute & nice. He's got longish dark red wavey hair. R says he likes me 'cause he is always asking to borrow my pencil in class. He's in grade 11. Today at noon, me & R were in to Pharmasave to pick up Jennie's prescription. He was there, playing with a travel/health answer machine. I went up to him and asked if he was having fun. He jumped and said yeah. We talked for a few minutes & then me & R left. On the bus, BV sat with me & started tickling my knees. KA asked if BV was my boyfriend, BV said no, he just liked to bug me.

R and that D guy met up today at an assembly. They plan on meeting on Monday at school. Things look promising for them. I hope they go out. R hasn't had a boyfriend before... ironically, the last guy she liked was named D, too!

Anyway, see ya!

~Rainy

Oh for the love of penises. Peni?

Another darling collection of the words out of my mouth over the last couple of weeks. 


1. Get the hose out of your mouth.

2. The first boy asleep will get a surprise!

3. Elliot: No. You have choices too, mama. Know what your choices are? I can not chose one of your choices or I can stay home. You can chose.
Elliot uses dazzling logic in an attempt to get out of going to school.

4. I see two boys who won't be getting any cake. Keep it up - so I can eat yours.

5. Feet do not go on penises.

6. No dinos on your penis!

7. No toys on your penis!

8. Put your penis back in the toilet.

9. I can't read through that balloon.

10. If you don't stop hitting me with that balloon, I will take it away and pop it.

11. Rarrrrrrrr. Nipplecakes!

Mmmmm cookies!

How can this be?

12 days old

Today he turns 5. Someone please tell me how to turn back the clock? It's racing past, much too quickly.

Dear Elliot,

Life has gotten far too hectic of late, but this is a placeholder promise that I will write you a birthday letter asap. Of course, we all know how well that's gone for your brother. Soon, my precious. I promise.

Love,

Mama
(Or Mamush, as you've taken to calling me)

Self-portrait

And while you're waiting on me to get my shit together, go catch up on the 3rd birthday & birth story post, and last year's letter.

Of jerks and dancing

I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day (labeled "Bedtime Stories", I guess to dissuade snoopers??) and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me, typos and all!

Monday September 26, 1994

DD, 

K is a jerk. Him & his friends were leaning on either side of the hall today. Me & R & B & D were walking by. Just before we got there, his friends started pointing & nudging eachother and K. Exactly when I walked by, K stomped his feet & clapped his hands, saying "Oh yeah baby" etc. Everyone around burst out laughing. How could he be so mean. Another day they were making fun of my hair. I still really like him but he's so mean! Why is it that I never quite get over a guy? 

I kind of really like BV. I've liked him since grade 7. For the first few weeks (days) of school, he would sit with me on the bus & stuff. He'd tell me about his girl problems... several girls like him. One in particular really liked him. He claimed he didn't like her... he said he'd never go out with her. Well, apparently they've been going out for a while. They were holding hands today & he got her a rose. He came on the bus today to gloat. I didn't want to sit with him cause I was feeling really crummy & I wanted to cry, but he sat with me. He's got really soft looking lips. I wanted to kiss him or hug him or something, so bad! He just poked me, talked about her and her rose, and talked like Elmo.

And to think I even thought he liked me. 

There was a dance Friday night. Me & R went. We were the only ones from our group of friends. At the beginning of the night, a guy, D, asked her to dance. They danced all night and he bought her a pop. I danced with this guy named Fred and another friend, BA. Fred said he wouldn't dance with BA, then, 'cause he said no to her he wouldn't dance with me. So he danced with both of us at once. It was fun.

I saw him today at school. I said hi. He didn't say much.

Oh well.

~Rainy

Inside the carwash

They were spellbound.

Snippets

Let's see. Last week, Elliot started school and Felix started preschool. Oh, and I started school, as well.

So things have been busy 'round these parts.

~~
I have class 3 days a week. It's only 8 hours, but it's a 1 hour commute each way, if I take public transit. About 20 minutes if I drive and then another 10 or so to find parking. I haven't had enough class time to figure out if I'll do well, but I think I'm going to like it, which is something, at least. We spent the first class throwing stuffed animals at each other, learning everyone's names.

1st day. Thanks, hubby.

~~
Felix's stitch-saga continues. Last week, we went to have them removed. Yeah right. First off, we couldn't see his usual doctor. This new doctor was all, "It's too early to take them out." And, "If you don't let me take them out they're going to grow out of the side of your face." I held him down, the doc tried to tweeze and snip, Felix thrashed and screamed, terrified. Elliot climbed the walls and put things in his mouth. I was totally and completely frazzled. In the end, we got one stitch out. One - of three. He'd been promised a lollipop, because I knew they had them in the office. But then the doc said he didn't have any and I should ask at the front desk.

Asshat.

We did track down some lollies and went home, in the rain. And hopped right in the car to go to my mom's birthday dinner. The boys convinced her new husband to light the candles on the cake and sing happy birthday before the meal. And then we did it again, when the boys were watching TV, once the guests had arrived and after our meal. With 2 pieces missing from the cake. Good times.

Two days later, we went back to see yet another doctor. I was prepared. EMLA cream applied, to numb the area. A new Lightening McQueen bribe dinky car. A full jar of lollipops sitting on the desk next to him. A different way of holding him and a much quicker - and warmer - doctor wielding the tools.

We got stitch number 2 out. She said she couldn't see the third, that it must have fallen out. I pointed out a faint blue mark sticking out from the scab. She probed it, declared it residual dye and sent us away.

Yeah. The scab has fallen off, revealing very plainly, 2 pieces of blue thread poking out of his little face. I really don't want to go through that all again, but seriously, how long can he go around with surgical thread sticking out of his cheek?

*sigh* Back we'll go. But not this week. This week is full.

Cool dude.

~~
I'm hosting an open house here on Wednesday evening. I sell spices. The new catalogue is out. Good times. Of course this means I need to clean the place from top to bottom.  No idea how many guests will arrive. Oh the clutter and grime I need to banish. Daunting.

~~
Oh, and today we receive this note from Elliot's teacher:

Elliot is settling into classroom routines nicely.  He is following directions, listening to stories, enjoying centres and is doing well in terms of independent work. As I'm sure you know, he loves to read and reads well. He has enjoyed independent reading times and today's Book Buddies. Centres has gone well with him and today, he had a great time creating a drawing and even made one for his friend and put it in her mailbox. I know he is a very sweet boy.

Unfortunately, Elliot is having some difficulties during unstructured times outside. Recess has been challenging for him and he has been hitting other children.  He is not always honest about this behaviour when he is asked---even when a teacher witnessed him hitting other children with no provocation. Today, he grabbed and held onto a child's nose in the meeting area just as the children came in to sit down. Other than that, he has done very well in the classroom. Elliot is full of hugs for me and I've seen him hug other children in class. I don't see him frustrated and am wondering if you've been experiencing/witnessing this aggression as well?

Just perfect. This is on the heels of him being banned from gymnastics - by us, not the facility. But it was a close call. I looked down from the parental observation area to see him running willy-nilly, being chased by instructors and then he started hitting and kicking, running away, climbing tall-and-not-age-appropriate equipment. I had to chase him through the whole structure, arms full of our bags, squishing into the padded mats while he laughed at me and danced out of reach. He refused to participate in class and wanted to make up his own rules. Later he said he didn't like the crowd of kids. And then changed his story and said he didn't mind them, it was the new teachers he didn't like. 


Gymnastics isn't new for him. But half way through the last session, he started doing stuff like this, refusing to do the class, etc. We debated putting him back in - when he would participate, he'd love it. But it would often take 30 minutes of cajoling to get him out there, or he'd run right out, happy as can be and then start crying and balking and asking to leave half way through. Still, we tried it again. Shouldn't have bothered. 

He says there are older boys at school, in his class, who take his hat and toss it around, laughing at him. he says there's a bully who makes fun of him. He says that sometimes the play chase, just for fun. Sometimes it's not fun. Today he was throwing rocks. He scratched a teacher in the after-school program and punched another one. After he calmed down, he hugged the teachers. And then was fine, his happy, sweet alter ego. 

I hope his teacher has some insights. He told us tonight that it's not him doing these mean things, that it's 2 other boys who wear the same clothes as him, whose parents spy on him to see what he's wearing so they can match their boys. Imaginative, huh.  I think he's been reading too many Calvin & Hobbes comics. 


~~
The boys had their first sleep over this past weekend. Went to my mom's. It was awesome. Hubby and I drank champagne, slept deep and went out for breakfast. The best part? Mom doesn't seem afraid to do it again!

~~
So it's been full. I'm worried about Elliot and school. Worried that he's going to be labeled. Worried we've gone horribly wrong in our parenting. And then he does something so sweet, like sneaking into my room after he's been tucked in bed for the night to sing me a lullaby about my day. Then I smile, wipe my tears and think we've done ok by him after all.

Lullaby and goodnight
You are so very sleepy
You had a long day
You stayed home 
While me and Felix went to school.
We played outside
You came to get us
We came home and played with daddy
You went out for a meeting
and now it's time for sleep.
(to the tune of Braham's Lullaby)

My sweet, smiley boy.

~~

I’m posting this to enter a contest for a $500 apple gift card, offered by Cashier Live, a point of sale software company, at Indie Biz Chicks. Enter to win here. But don't... 'cause I wanna win! How awesome would this be for school?

Life is dumb

I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day (labeled "Bedtime Stories", I guess to dissuade snoopers??) and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me, typos and all!

Tuesday, September 20, 1994

**And 12 years later, Elliot was born!

DD,

I feel like shit, I wanna die. I'm in a fight with every-one. I want a hug. I want to cull curl up and sleep. I want to cry. I'm sick... my head is all stuffed up. I have to take some really big pills to stop my period cramps & get rid of P.M.S. Lucky.

School is ok. We get to go downtown at noon. K is still a gorgeous asshole. Dd is still cute... he stares at me in the hall. I haven't heard anything from or about M yet. Mom wants me to be friends with him. I don't know. I'm confused. Why don't guys like me? What's wrong with me? Am I really ugly or fat? I don't think I'm pretty or thin but my friends said say I am. But, like a friend would really put me down. Ha! That's my job.

I really want to die or something. Run away, lock myself in a mental hospital... Anything!

Life is dumb.

~Rainy

1st Day of School

On our way, yesterday. *sniff*

Mom Talk

I enjoyed the last one so much, here's a new installment of things I've caught myself saying lately... or at least overheard...I actually remembered to write some of the nonsense down in a legible manner!

Did you pee the boys?
Used between hubby and I whenever the other comes to bed to find out if the boys' bladders have been sleep-dumped.

Why does your voice smell like chocolate?
Hey! The air smells like chocolate!
Two separate conversation starters by Elliot. My only response? A muffled, "Why indeed, grasshopper?!"

Stop smacking that ham.

Get your penis back in your shorts!
To Felix, while walking with the boys in the stroller on a busy street.

If you poke me with that stick again I'll eat your croissant.

Hey! Stop licking knives!

Felix: Something in my bum's made of poop. And that poop's made of plastic.

Those doctors made me VERY angry!
Felix, going to bed the night of the stitches. 

No, that's 5 minutes for YOU, mama!
Cheeky Elliot, on being told it was almost time to go.

Do they know we're not ladies? How?
Elliot, in the ladies washroom:

Get that fork OUT of your NOSE!
To Felix, in a restaurant.

No, I don't want a knife in my purse. Especially one covered in honey.
To Elliot, in the same restaurant.

Felix, in a dark room at 5:30am, covering his non-bashed eye): When I cover my eye, I hear a boy. I hear a voice.
Me, trembling: What does the voice say?
Felix: I want a drink.
It's not just me, that tops the creepy list, right? Seriously, that shit freaks me out. Hubby and I went to a movie the other night (date night, first in a looooong time) and I nearly started crying at the trailer* for Paranormal Activity 3, and I had my eyes clamped shut for most of it. May have also sprained hubby's hand.**shudder**

*I haven't actually gone to that link or viewed the contents. Still too scared. Click at your own risk.

Nine down.

Well. Here it is. The last week of summer vacation, gone.

In the beginning, I was scared. Overwhelmed. Certain it would end in bloodshed and tears. (Well, it did, but not on purpose. More on that in a minute.) Half way through, I was pleasantly optimistic. This wasn't so bad! We were making it! I was rocking this full-time, stay at home parenting thing, a gig unseen since Felix was an infant. (And that only lasted 6 weeks, until out of desperation Elliot got carted off to daycare and I got some much needed medication.) Over the last couple of weeks, I've been mourning the end. September brings a first school year, change, growth. It frightens me. And enthralls. I can't wait but I never want it to get here.

Highlights of our rather low key (and TV filled) week:

Monday, the police showed up at the door, canvasing the street due to an attempted break in around the corner. The boys escaped like cats, out of the house the second the door was open and down the street. The officer called them back and thankfully they listened.

Tuesday -  I started a soup diet - a detox thing full of cabbage and vegetables, very filling but only 63 calories a bowl. Other than that, I have no idea. I've checked my email, iPhoto, Facebook... did you see me on Tuesday? Where was I? Were the kids with me? What were we doing?? Does anyone know?

Wednesday. The boys were running downhill at the playground. They had already done it once or twice when it happened. Tangled feet or a subtle shove or plain clumsiness... Felix was in front. He fell hard and fast with a sickening thud on the wooden playground border. Elliot landed second, half on Felix's legs, his head closer to my feet. If I'd been sitting 2 butt-spaces to the left, they would have landed in my lap and avoided the nastiness to follow.

From the angle and sound of the impact, I was braced for the worst. Scooping Felix into my arms, I clamped my hand down on his cheekbone where I thought he'd landed. He howled. Begged for a bandaid. I peeked under my hand and nearly fainted, sure that I was looking at bone. There was remarkably little blood for a head wound. But there was a gaping hole. I was terrified there would be loss of vision, broken bones or brain damage. He cried over and over that he couldn't hear me.

Our playdate arrived just then and my friend's navy husband took a look and very calmly agreed that yes, it was bad. I should leave Elliot with them at the playground and go straight to the hospital. I started shaking. Called hubby, told him to cab over to collect Elliot; my friend's hubby called a cab for me, poured some water to cleanse the cut, washed the blood off my hands. 

Arrived at the ER, and after a quick & dirty neurological assessment and an application of a topical anesthetic, we were triaged into "non urgent" and settled into a 3 hour wait. Hubby showed up with food. They called our name and we went into the back room and waited another hour for the doctor. And then another 45 minutes for new freezing to take effect.

Then they wrapped my baby in a sheet, pinning his arms to his body. A nurse held him down while the doctor and med student discussed the best way to proceed. I patted his head, held down his legs, repeatedly told him I loved him, I was right there, couldn't he feel my fingers? An aide stood at eye level, showing him a little movie on an iPad. It didn't help. He screamed and thrashed and pleaded. Begged them to stop. Demanded to be freed, to see his mama. I could smell my own sweaty fear as it filled the room. The med student did 3 shaky, slow stitches. Between the second and third suture, I hopped around the table, nearly pushing the nurse aside in my need to get where he could see me, but that released his legs too much, the student struggled to get the needle in. Afterwards, she brought him a popsicle and apologized, eyes glistening.

Thursday was a movie day. The sitter came so I could go to a few appointments and I rushed home. Took Felix to my chiropractor. We were both very tight, holding onto the fear and panic with our bones and tissues, but adjusted well.

Photo by Felix, silliness as I tried to distract him from the pain in his face.

Friday we used coupons to go to a new-to-us indoor play structure and cafe. The boys had a blast. Felix sweated his bandaid right off! We got groceries and then went to a provincial park, full of walking trails. We had sun on our faces and a salty breeze in our hair.

Saturday we went to the zoo.

Today we went out to breakfast. Tomorrow... who knows.

And Tuesday, well, Tuesday real life catches up to us and the boys and I will be growing up and putting on our game faces for school. Wish us luck!



Missed every little detail of our summer vacation so far? Well catch up, already! Weeks 1, 2, 3, 4. 5, 6 7 and 8...

Happy Anniversary, let's go to the zoo!

Took the boys to a zoo a couple of hours away. They loved it. We're exhausted but everyone had fun. We even brought home the right monkeys! Happy anniversary, darling.

Breaking up is hard to do... or is it?

I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day (labeled "Bedtime Stories", I guess to dissuade snoopers??) and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me, typos and all!

Tuesday, August 30, 1994

Yep. Me & M broke up on Monday, August 22 at 9:35pm. He called me, and I told him I thought we should break up. He took it really good. Actually, I don't know what I expected him to do, so I don't know what is good.  Anyway, he said he'd been thinking about it lately. He asked if he could still call, I said yeah, of course. He hasn't called, and I really don't expect him to.

School starts in 1 week exactly. This'll be fun!

~Rainy