I recently started reading, “The Help” on my sister’s Kindle.  I didn’t think I was going to like reading a BOOK on an electrical device because I am totally old-school and thoroughly enjoy the feel, the smell, and the tangibility of a book.  I love books.  I love reading.  I love the ability of being able to scribble epiphanies in my books as I read along.  You can’t do that on a Kindle or Nook.  But man, I love it.  It’s easier to read for some reason.  Condensed.  Organized.  Clear.  And although, I miss the feel and smell of my literature… I think I can get used to this electronic business.  As most of you know, I’m just not that tech savvy so this is a monumental leap for me.

I am almost done with the book.  I think reading is actually more stressful than relaxing.  Why?  Because you have this tenacious urge to freaking get to the end!!!  Find out what’s going to happen… NOW.  I’m impatient so reading at times becomes frustrating.  Lucky for my sister, she doesn’t live with me anymore so I can’t keep asking her… “Just tell me wth happens!!!”  I ALWAYS do that to her during movies if I know she already watched it… even if she hasn’t I still ask her.  Ruahahahahah… like she’s psychic.

I’m tired today.  Odd.  Because I’ve had so much energy the past few months.  But these past couple of nights, O has been fitful during her sleep at night which inevitably has caught up with me.  Yeah, today… hmmph… exhausted.  Just unlike before, I don’t let my mood get ahead of me.  I don’t let negative thoughts permeate my being and then come out as irritation or lashings to the people I care about most.  I understand now that my mood swings shouldn’t be detrimental to those who do not directly impact it.  Yep Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m growing up.  Yahoo.

O just gets more engulfing by the minute.  I sit in awe some times during the night and just turn my flashlight (on my phone… one of the better features on the HTC Evo) and just stare at her.  Like the Aerosmith song goes… “I don’t want to close my eyes cause I’ll miss you babe…” or something to that nature hits right at the heart for me.  Hence, the reason why I used it during her first birthday’s slide show.  But really, sometimes before bed time… I almost just don’t want her to go to sleep so we can just hang out together a little bit longer.  Her hugs are like no other drug (ahem… ahem… of course I’ve never inhaled… thank you President Clinton for that line!!!).  Seriously, when she gives me her love … you can just feel the pureness and joy in it.  It leaves me wanting just a little bit more… just a little bit tighter.  I thank God daily and each time those moments occur because now I don’t have to wonder what it feels like to be so immensely enamored with another human being.  I mean, it’s just so different.  The magnitude.  The intensity.  Being unable to express what it feels like in words makes me feel like my head is going to explode.  It’s simply amazing.  God’s greatest gift on earth.

That brings me to the case of the poor little girl.  Being that I don’t watch the news much and Facebook then becoming my news central… I learned that that monster was found not guilty.  I am blown away.  Our judicial system is absolutely archaic.  I don’t know how the system works in cases like these or the OJ Simpson trials.  It’s almost a blatant slap in the face that the system has failed again.  Attorneys… please help us understand.  It’s astonishing to me that a parent can go as far as doing that to their own child.  I know how deep frustrations and depressions can run, but for the love of God… kill yourself!!!  Not your child!!!!  All because you wanted to party?  WTF.  I don’t give a rats ass if I’m not being fair.  I lived in deep despair and dysfunction for years… and in all my misery… I never ever wanted to hurt my child!!!  Snapping to the point of no return is a freaking choice.  I’m not even joking…  you choose to go beyond the line.  But in the small instance that she didn’t kill that poor little girl… you’re still an asshole for getting plastered and dancing on top of tables at a bar when your child died.  For Pete’s sake… at least look like a dumbass in your own house.  Your baby was adducted and that’s how you grieve?  Suspicious.  Freaking jerk.

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