Insanity.

Over the past few days in group I have been trying to deal with my horrendous loss. I have had people relate to me, I have other people that get pissed off at me. I have had a mirage of different feelings, thoughts, emotions from a variety of different people.
Brennan (a therapist) made me (yes, literally, MADE ME…swear to gawd he’s a freekin sadist) act out in a role play my favorite memory of ALL of us together. Me & My Boyz. I couldn’t pick a favorite memory. I became completely overwhelmed and totally lost my composure and he wouldn’t let me just cry. He decided that reenacting something from my memory was the truest way to recognize that memories are all I have left.

I couldn’t do it. I tried. I came up with a memory of all of us sitting on the beach in Florida, J with his guitar, T & M singing, Mark stroking my hair, D just kicked back listening to the fire crack and pointing out the constellations of stars to me (and I still cant see any of them…*sighs* anyway…) that was my memory. The one I was willing to reenact and work on anyway.

So, I picked different people in the group to “be” my Boyz. I didn’t realize that I had picked the people that they are most like until David started talking and all I saw was T. His mannerisms, His gestures, His tone of voice…EVERYTHING. It was like looking at T. I had another complete breakdown. Brennan kept pushing me and pushing me. At this point I was like a 2 year old having a temper tantrum. I was curled up on the floor (because my head was supposed to be on Mark’s leg…anyway…) in a tight little ball and I just started rocking and screaming NO over and over again.

Brennan let me scream till I couldn’t do it anymore. He then asked the entire group to form a circle and give me their perceptions/opinions/feedback on the scene and that’s when shit got UGLY.

Anyone that knows me knows I protect the people that I love. I am not kind about it. I am not subtle about it. I will get right in your face and break you down until there is nothing left of you. I enjoy it. I thrive on it. And that’s what Brennan was trying to teach me.

Anyone that knows me knows I protect the people that I love. I am not kind about it. I am not subtle about it. I will get right in your face and break you down until there is nothing left of you. I enjoy it. I thrive on it. And that’s what Brennan was trying to teach me.

David told me that he felt in complete control, that I gave up every shred of personal power and control I might’ve had and handed it ALL over without question. I made him my unqualified unwilling guide in a scene I should’ve controlled. It was MY heartbreak, MY memory…it was all mine, but I subconsciously shifted the responsibility of it to David. David asked me how often I do this with people that I am comfortable with. The honest answer was too much. That’s when Brennan jumped back in.

I thought I would be dealing with my grief today, but it became about the quality of attachments I form and the type of person/personality I form them with. I never even thought that my Boyz all gave me something my dad never did/would/could until Brennan told me that in my Boyz I had simply found my “Father Figure” and so I attached on to them and focused solely on their friendships. No one else mattered to me. I had finally found what I needed/wanted. And now because of that, I am left feeling very isolated and very alone. It's even worse knowing that I am feeling that way because I PUT myself into this situation to begin with.

Brennan drug me kicking and screaming towards a very painful hurtful thing. I feel my memories of my Boyz and all my time spent with them is becoming tainted now. I feel myself becoming insanely angry. I want to keep the 5 Men that loved me dearly in the cocoon of glowing memories that I have created for them to rest in. I don’t want them twisted into something evil and malicious on my part….but it’s happening.

Then, Brennan, just getting into the swing of things with me, decided to ask the group about the attachments I’ve formed with them. Turns out that the men in the group feel that I am forming “Father Figure” relationships with them as well. *sighs* I truly don’t understand that. But, Brennan wasn’t quite done with me…as we were winding down the group he looked at me and said “Christine, insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. You’ve got a lot of work to do on this. We have to end there.” And the group ended and I was left beat up, used, and spit back out.

I am angry, incredibly hurt, sad, confused, torn…you name it. I am a complete mess. Psychotherapy fucking sucks.

Musical Memories

For Me

Douse me in hollowness,

secure me in numbness.

Construct for me the pathway to serenity.

Feed me the fuel of sophistication,

Spoil me bare in stability.

Nudge me into the hole of forfeit.

Sever my insecurity,

Destroy my decaying image.

Protect me from the foul thoughts

In the deepest clefts in my mind.

Grasp my hand as we gallop into absoluteness.

I curled up tonight and listened to My Boyz band and some of our other favorite bands. The smartest thing I ever did was ask them to record some of their stuff. At least I can now have their voices whenever I need to hear them. I sat here and cried my eyes out while their words kept repeating over and over on my computer and the memories kept playing over and over in my mind.

I had a really good laugh remembering the days we recorded some of the stuff and how crazy funny we were. The day M decided he wanted to attempt a re-do of a Lords of Acid song and asked T & I to do the back up, so T & I were in the booth, HAMMERED, bumping and grinding like lunatics trying to make M mess up…laughing our asses off trying to get the girlie squeeeeeel of the song “just right” while D sat in the recording booth trying to take our laughter off the track ….*howls with laughter* that is my favorite memory of T.

I listened to J play his guitars…his solo tracks and the one with the beautiful Spanish guitar and I remembered curling up in front of a camp fire with the stars shining brightly, the mountains dark images behind us, everything around us dead silent except for the spark and hiss of the flames while J played. That is my favorite memory of him. The quiet interludes that were just us and we could just be together and enjoy each other and the world around us.

I listened to some bad NYC rap just for D. He loved that thug shit. He was so much like Mark. My favorite memory of D is when he pinned me beneath the dashboard of Mark’s “pimpin-thug-wanna-be-chico-mobile” when Mark decided to make it bounce thru SOHO like an idiot in rush hour traffic and everyone in the car was scrambling to hide *lol* I ended up on the floor pinned beside D under the huge dashboard and we were hanging on to each other laughing our assess off singing “This is D-Block, Mighty Mighty D-Block” at the top of our lungs *lmfao*

My music player eventually got to VNV Nation and I had some time to curl up and think about M. He was the most like me. The two of us could always find trouble together. We thrived on it. *grinz* We had inside little jokes that could set the other off at the most inappropriate moments (like the time we were in Boston attending Easter Mass with the Crazy Italian family of T & J) We had so much fun road trippin’ in high school. We used to do tours of Alberta’s small towns to see all the wacky weird and wonderful crap towns will do to get traffic in them. (And I don’t care what you think M; the statue of the Perogy with a fork stuck thru it was far better than the statue of the huge duck!! *lol*) M was my twin in every sense of the word. Whenever M & I would curl up and talk about any topic under the sun, VNV Nation was always playing in the background.

VNV Nation - Beloved

It's colder than before;

The seasons took all they had come for.

Now winter dances here.

It seems so fitting don't you think

To dress the ground in white and grey.

It's so quiet

I can hear my thoughts touching every second that

I spent waiting for you.

Circumstances afford me no second chance to tell you

How much I've missed you.

My beloved do you know

When the warm wind comes again

Another year will start to pass?

Please don't ask me why I’m here.

Something deeper brought me than a need to remember.

We were once young and blessed with wings.

No heights could keep us from their reach

No sacred place we did not soar.

Still greater things burned within us.

I don't regret the choices that I made.

I know you feel the same.

My beloved do you know

How many times I stared at clouds

Thinking that I saw you there?

These are feelings that do not pass so easily.

I can't forget what we claimed as ours.

Moments lost though time remains.

I am still proud of what we were.

No pain remains, no feeling.

Eternity awaits.

Grant me wings that I might fly.

My restless soul is longing.

No pain remains, no feeling.

Eternity awaits.

These Men are my brothers. They are my best friends. They are my support system, my fearless adventurers, and my guides along the path of life. Music was always involved in anything we did. We always found our souls in music. There was never anything that couldn’t be said better when a melody was attached to it. I don’t think I am ever going to understand this loss. I don’t think I am ever going to accept it. I don’t think I am ever going to be able to create friendships like the ones I had with them. I don’t think I want to.

How does someone move on, away from, the people who knew her heart the most intimately? How can someone be expected to do that?!?!?!? I truly wish I had the answers to those questions…and to anyone that says “time” I am gonna lose it on you *smiles sweetly*. Time heals nothing. It may make the ache less poignant, but it doesn’t take it away. It doesn’t replace the people. It doesn’t do anything but march on and force you to comply.

They all offered me something so different… J bought out the “fight champ” in me…no one can piss me off quite like that man *lol*…T centered and calmed me…M made me laugh and just let me know that his shoulder was there if I needed it…Mark just let me BE…I didn’t have to be weak, strong, angry or anything else, I could just decompress…D gave me the logical kick in the ass…and all of them together made up the whole of me. I knew that I could run to them with anything at any time and I would be taken care of, loved, protected, safe, encouraged, supported, cherished, laughed with (and at *lol*)…I don’t know what I am going to do without them. As much as I wish I could say “oh, I’ll imagine what they would say/do and just say/do that” but I know I won’t be able to.

It’s been a ...rough...few days. I feel like I should just have a phone surgically attached to my head. I don’t think there is a remaining family member in any of their families that I haven’t talked to. I can officially declare that I am never befriending another Italian for as long as I live *lol* they are all crazy, even if they are some of the best people I have ever met *lol*

I ran my brain on some of my favorite memories of all of us together. From the day T got his red contacts (that still makes me shudder and laugh at the same time...) to the day M got his teeth surgically sharpened (gotta admit, it looked pretty cool), to Marks fascinated horror at the rubber bands in bondage a go go in LA, to the Halloween party in Salem where we all scared the shit out of each other and I couldn’t sleep for weeks (all you boyz are still a buncha assholes for that *lmao*), to Mardi Gras and body paint that was more like super glue (lmfaoooooo @ D&J when they got stuck together), to "Loonie Cruises" out to see all the weird and fucked up things small towns do to get on the map ( I still think the perogy with the huge fork stuck thru it was the winner! screw the unbelievably huge duck! lmao), to " I NEED to see mountains", to Pete's for milkshakes, to the caves and getting ridiculously lost in them because SOMEONE (Mark *smirks*) was just "too cool" to tie a rope around his waist and SOMEONE insisted on leading us all into terror (lol), to the weekly "debates" where we would all converge and argue ourselves into hysterical laughter, to scrabble (swear to dawg I am never playing that shitty game ever again), to spending quiet afternoons in the butterfly room at the Devonian gardens, to the corn maze (where Mark once again got us all lost…seriously…why did we allow him to lead so often!? *lmao*), to hiking and just sitting on top of a mountain and listening to life in the silence, to hitting all the fetish clubs in NY, MA, LA & CA and terrifying D & Mark (lmfao @ the look on their faces when a pair of tranny's in sequins hit on them), to Jasper for spur of the moment A&W teen burgers, to music and all the concerts and shows and writing and recording and everything else we all did surrounded by music, to writing poetry and baring our souls,....and I could go on and on....but those are some of the memories that really bring them all back and make me smile (and howl with laughter...D sometimes I really feel for ya *lmao*)

The one thing I regret is not going camera happy and getting pictures of all of the times...not that T woulda let me take pictures of him anyway *grumbles* what few pictures we all have of him had to be snapped quickly and then ya had to run for your life *lol* but still...it would be nice to have a lot more pictures of all of us. I am grieving the loss of my old yahoo account even more now, I had tons of pictures in that accounts photo album that I stupidly didnt back up and save anywhere else...*sighs*

Losing My Boyz means I have lost the last people in my life that knew me good bad & ugly and loved me dearly anyway. They taught me so much. They stood by me thru so much. There is not a day that will go by that I won’t think of you my dearest Friends and miss you desperately. T, I remember when you sang the Lonestar song at karaoke the night before you moved and dedicated it to US - D, J, M, Mark, & Me - and the friendship we will always have, you winked at me and told me if I ever need you that all I had to do was close my eyes and there you would be....Mark, I remember sitting on the beach with J playing the guitar, my head on your leg, your hand running thru my hair as you sang softly and we all just watched the fire burn....I remember staying up for nights on end talking, arguing, laughing and doing some of the most retarded things imaginable. M, I still say you looked hot hot hot with kool-aid red dyed hair *smirks* ya never got me back for that by the way...and D, shampoo is still better!!! So stop looking at me swan!! *rolls with laughter* J, I remember when your son was born and the look of complete awe on your face when you saw him for the first time...I remember ...everything. Thank you for teaching me about life, about myself, and for giving me the courage and strength to recognize and accept who I am. You have all given me the most incredible gifts and I will love you dearly until I meet you in the dungeon after life party and kick your asses for leaving me. I promise to remain the dreamer and I promise to never lose sight of the stars.

Tomorrow I will release balloons for all of your souls to float safely on and I will release another one for Mark so he is able to find all of you. I find comfort in knowing that you will all be together still watching over me from afar. I will also release one balloon for me. I want to be with all of you. I will never forget any of you. I love you all so very much. Thank you for loving me.

Lonestar - Not A Day Goes By

I’ve Got a picture of you I carry in my heart

Close my eyes to see it when the world gets dark

Got a memory of you I carry in my soul

I wrap it close around me when the nights get cold

If you asked me how I'm doin' I'd say just fine

But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you

After all this time you're still with me it's true

Somehow you remain locked so deep inside

Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by

I still wait for the phone in the middle of the night

Thinkin' you might call me if your dreams don't turn out right

And it still amazes me that I lie here in the dark

Wishin' you were next to me, your head against my heart

If you asked me how I'm doing I'd say just fine

But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you

After all this time you're still with me it's true

Somehow you remain locked so deep inside

Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by

Minutes turn to hours, and the hours to days

Seems it's been forever that I've felt this way

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you

After all this time you're still with me it's true

Somehow you remain locked so deep inside

Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by

Second Day of Mourning

Second Day of Mourning

The second day of mourning is always grey,

When the grandeur of elaborate pain

Fades into a comprehensible dawn

The asthmatic morning labored to wheeze

a few competent breaths to last from bus to school.

A grim visage canopies a lurching heart that still stumbles

In the quicksilver and endless corridors of remembering.

Mourning seems such a vain thing.

It cries aloud to be seen, solicits pity with

Conscious tears and wanton dysphoria,

Damns an implosion with a paradoxical front.

Trudging up the overhead bridge that prevent dented fenders

And stubborn bloodstains on the roads,

The sweaty morning clings onto my skin and sorrow

Weighing with the symbolism of exertion.

Written by: Gaston Ng

Perfection Wasted

And another regrettable thing about death
is the ceasing of your own brand of magic,
which took a whole life to develop and market --
the quips, the witticisms, the slant
adjusted to a few, those loved ones nearest
the lip of the stage, their soft faces blanched
in the footlight glow, their laughter close to tears,
their tears confused with their diamond earrings,
their warm pooled breath in and out with your heartbeat,
their response and your performance twinned.
The jokes over the phone.
The memories packed in the rapid-access file.
The whole act.
Who will do it again? That's it: no one;
imitators and descendants aren't the same.

Written by: John Updike

I Measure Every Grief I Meet

I measure every grief I meet

With analytic eyes;

I wonder if it weighs like mine,

Or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long,

Or did it just begin?

I could not tell the date of mine,

It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,

And if they have to try,

And whether, could they choose between,

They would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have piled--

Some thousands--on the cause

Of early hurt, if such a lapse

Could give them any pause;

Or would they go on aching still

Through centuries above,

Enlightened to a larger pain

By contrast with the love.

Written by: Emily Dickinson

Time does not bring relief

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied

Who told me time would ease me of my pain!

I miss him in the weeping of the rain;

I want him at the shrinking of the tide;

The old snows melt from every mountain-side,

And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;

But last year's bitter loving must remain

Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.

There are a hundred places where I fear

To go - so with his memory they brim.

And entering with relief some quiet place

Where never fell his foot or shone his face

I say, 'There is no memory of him here!'

And so stand stricken,

so remembering him.

Written by: Edna St Vincent Millay

Roberto

Thank you for the, "yes," your smile always gave me when we met.
Thank you for telling me it was the little things in life like my phone calls that kept you going. Thank you for listening to my sorrows and then giving me encouragement when I needed it. Thank you for seeing the pain behind my smile and giving me comfort.
Thank you for the admiration and respect you gave me.
Thank you for loving me for who I am, and not expecting more or less from me.
Thank you for the many hours you gave me sitting in your garden. Time is precious.
Thank you for your humor and how you kept me laughing.
Thank you for the grace and elegance you added to our every meeting.
Thank you for the high standards and integrity you demanded from yourself and those around you.
Thank you for seeing the best in me and not letting me forget it.
Thank you for the stubborn independence and self reliance that kept you strong and led the way for me.
Thank you for your love of beauty, both the inward and the outward, and how your sharp eye sharpened mine.
Thank you for believing in me and wanting me here, with you.
Thank you for loving me and telling me so.
Thank you for choosing me as friend, sister, family.

Written by: Christine McAuliffe

One would think after having been through this horrifying experience no less than 5 months previous, you would have some sort of mental preparation done to protect yourself. You would think that you wouldn’t hope they would return, knowing that hope and faith can be your bitterest enemies. You would think that the pain wouldn’t feel the same, that it wouldn’t cut in new places and rip your soul apart. You would think that you would be able to find your voice to give the grief its badly wanted need for expression. You would think that you wouldn’t be so numb, shocked, stunned, and ultimately silent.

I sat down today to try to give a voice to my pain. I sat down to attempt to try to get something out of me that I could start to analyze, and make sense of. I sat here and tried to write something eloquent, thoughtful, insightful, and all I could come up with was a blank word document to show for my hours of tears and trying

I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop.

I want to run like a lunatic down the street screaming at the top of my lungs.

I want the world to know this kind of devastation.

I want the world to fear this kind of devastation.

I want to hear them all screaming with me as they too suffer this kind of living hell.

I want to be selfish and keep this grief all to myself.

I want to be angry at my friends for leaving me alone.

I want to be angry at the war for taking them from me.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop.

I want my friends here with me so my screams can turn to laughter.

I want to feel whole again.

I want to wallow in the darkness I am living in.

I want to dance in the light with my friends.

I want to be anywhere but here.

I want to be anyone but me.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop.

I want to be all these things because all I am is numb.

Written by Me.

I am raw. Angry. Lonely. Bewildered. Ashamed. Frightened. Miserable. Rejected. Proud. Useless. Enraged. Incapable. Defeated…I could go on and on…I am a complete contradiction. Once, I had friends who understood me, now I am left to understand myself and that thought terrifies me. Once, I had friends who knew my soul, now I am left to nurture myself without their loving guidance. Once, I had friends who were like brothers. They were closer to me than any sibling I have. They were my family. They were everything to me. There is not a memory of my life that I have that doesn’t include them in some way. I am scared to create a life without them in it. I cannot imagine my life without them in it. At this moment, I cannot imagine life.

There are no words

Tonite I recieved THE call I've been dreading since I recieved the last one in January.

I have officially lost all of my Boyz to that stupid fucking useless goddamn fucking war.

They were due to ship home permanently in 7 fucking days. 168 hours. Fuck me.

I will be making a solo trip to The Rock to say goodbye to my closest dearest Friends in the entire fucking world.

I cant find my phone because I threw it and I dont know where it landed.

I cant hear because my ears wont stop ringing with my screams.

I am so fucking done with all of the petty useless junior high mentality masturbating wack jobs, and if you think that means you, then it probably does.

Dont run to me with your self created drama anymore. I dont wanna fucking hear it.

I am so fucking done.

There are no words to truly describe how finished I am.

For Children Who Were Broken

For Children Who Were Broken
it is very hard to mend......
Our pain was rarely spoken
and we hid the truth from friends.

Our parents said they loved us,
but they didn't act that way.
They broke our hearts and stole our worth,
with the things that they would say.

We wanted them to love us.
We didn't know what we did
to make them yell at us and hit us,
and wish we weren't their kid.

They'd beat us up and scream at us
and blame us for their lives.
Then they'd hold us close inside their arms
and tell us confusing lies of how they really loved us --
even though we were BAD,
and how it was OUR fault they hit us,
OUR fault that they were mad.

When days were just beginning
we sometimes prayed for them to end,
and when the pain kept coming,
we learned to just pretend
that we were good
and so were they
and this was just one of those days ...
tomorrow we'd be friends.

We had to believe it so.
We had nowhere else to go.

Each day that we pretended,
we replaced reality
with lies, or dreams,
or angry schemes,
in search of dignity ....
until our lies
got bigger than the truth,
and we had no one real to be

Our bodies were forsaken.
With no safe place to hide,
we learned to stop hearing and feeling
what they did to our outsides.

We tried to make them love us,
till we hated ourselves instead,
and couldn't see a way out,
and wished that they were dead.
We scared ourselves by thinking that,
and scared ourselves to know,
that we were acting just like them --
and might ever more be so.

To be half the size of a grown-up
and trapped inside their pain....
To every day lose everything
with no savior or refrain...
To wonder how it is possible
that God could so forget
the worthy child you knew you were,
when you had not been damaged yet ...
To figure on your fingers
that the years till you'd be grown
enough to leave the torment
and survive away from home,
were more than you could count to,
or more than you could bear,
was the reality we lived in
and we knew it wasn't fair.

We who grew up broken
are somewhat out of time,
struggling to mend our childhood,
when our peers are in their prime.
Where others find love and contentment,
we still often have to strive
to remember we are worthy,
and heroes just to be alive.

Some of us are healing.
some are stealing.
Most are passing the anger on.
Some give their lives away to drugs,
or the promise of like beyond.
Some still hide from society.
Some struggle to belong.
But all of us are wishing
the past would not hold on so long.

There's a lot of digging down to do
to find the child within,
to love away the ugly pain
and feel innocence again.
There is forgiveness
worthy of angel's wings
for remembering those at all,
who abused our sacred childhood
and programmed us to fall.
To seek to understand them,
and how their pain became our own,
is to risk the ground we stand on
to climb the mountain home.

The journey is not so lonely
as in the past its been ...
More of us are strong enough
to let the growth begin.
But while we're trekking
up the mountain
we need everything we've got,
to face the adults we have become,
and all that we are not.

So when you see us weary
from the day's internal climb ...
When we find fault
with your best efforts,
or treat imperfection as purposeful crime ...
When you see our quick defenses,
our efforts to control,
our readiness to form a plan of unrealistic goals ...
When we run into a conflict
and fight to the bitter end,
remember ... We think that winning
means we won't be hurt again.

When we abandon OUR thoughts and feelings,
to be what we believe YOU want us to,
or look at trouble we are having,
and want to blame it all on you...
When life calls for new beginnings,
and we fear they re doomed to end, remember...
Wounded trust is like a wounded knee--
It is very hard to bend.
Please remember this when we are out of sorts.
Tell us the truth, and be our friend.
For children who were broken...
it is very hard to mend.

By Elisa Wise

Can you know beauty without knowing pain?

"Well, you cant know life without knowing pain. Pain is not a necessary component to exist. A flower doesn’t necessarily feel pain but yet it exists. The depth of human experience requires us to put ourselves at risk for the full range and that is partially what heightens the experience and keeps us in line as to what really matters."

~Billy Corgan

Updates

It’s been a rough week. Therapy is starting to reveal more and more to me and I nightly curl up with my diary and write it all down and try to work some things through. I am learning more than I thought I would from people I never would’ve imagined I could relate to. Ironically, the woman I call ‘Ms.Toxic’ is the one I relate to the most…I am still working on becoming comfortable with that *lol*

This morning in Large group was a rough one for me. Today I had to say goodbye to Anthony. From my first day in the program, though I didn’t have any sessions with him, he made me feel comfortable and included during our breaks and lunches. He played games with me on Thursday’s and kept me laughing through my intense agony in “light” aerobics. Due to the restrictions put in place on us, we are not allowed to have outside relationships at any time with any of the people in our group, so today I had to say goodbye to him. I felt a healthy loss and while it was nice to recognize that I CAN establish attachments to people with boundaries, it is still sad that it has to be so final.

My Boyz are all still safe and bored. I sent them sand box toys *lol* Who ever builds the best sand castle will win a prize…now I’ve gotta think of a prize *lol* I also sent them each individual letters expressly telling them why I love them, Why I am proud of them, Why I value them and Why I cannot wait for them to be stateside and be at “The Rock” with me. I cannot wait to sit under a blanket of stars, watching the fire crackle and spit and listen to J strum his guitar while all of us just hum and sway along and sit so closely we are almost on top of each other…I miss them so much. Thank you to everyone that said words of prayer, or anything else, to help keep them safe. I appreciate (and so do they) the love and support you’ve shown.

Lance & I and our pets are doing great. Lance has been working a lot of OT lately, but that will stop after tomorrow (thank god) and then we can spend some time together. Ringo is growing and developing quite the little (obnoxious) personality as he settles into his new home. Pandora still hates Ringo, but she is healthy and fully recovered from her declawing (*whew*) and she is slowly starting to leave the bedroom and take back “her” house again. My tulips are starting to bud. I am so excited. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing when I planted them in November, but apparently I did it right because they are all sprouting and now their stems are pushing up and the buds are loosening. Ringo didn’t dig up / eat as many bulbs as I thought, though there are definite holes *lol*