Consolation Prize

So I alluded to all of this in the previous post, but here are the details....

It's been a hectic month, and made all the more awful with a sinus infection and ear infection. Right on the heels of my situation with Kevin, like literally days after, I met my friend Tim and his buddies in in Cooperstown for the day.

I had seen Tim in September and he shared with me that he and his wife were struggling, not connecting, hadn't been intimate, that after 10 years of being an asshole, he was finally learning patience, but she was probably fed and was just trying to get through the holidays.

So here we are in November, and while the original plan was that his wife and girls were coming to Cooperstown, the plans changed at the last minute. I already had been looking forward to a trip to the Hall of Fame, had my hotel room booked, so decided to meet up with him and his friends anyway.

He told me that one of his friends coming was someone I might be interested in. He talked him up quite a bit. I was looking forward the weekend.

When I met up with them, I immediately realized that a) Tim doesn't know me very well and b) his friend, while a very nice guy, was the furthest from anyone I've ever dated, should date or would be remotely interested in. I didn't give it a second thought.

I had been in WV a few weeks before with Bubbles and drank (and vomited) way too much to enjoy the taste of beer, so I offered to be the DD for the boys. I ate lots of bar food, as we wandered from pub to pub. They did shots of tequila and got drunker and drunker. At the last bar, I started talking to some guys next to me and we realized we had mutual friends in common from my Baltimore days.

It was such a fun night. Until.....we got back to the hotel. I had left my bottle of water in his room, so went back to his room. Once in his room, he pushed me down on the bed and started kissing me. I will admit that I got caught up in the moment for a minute or two and kissed him back, and then snapped back to reality and pushed him away.

"Oh, Red....please...." He tried to kiss me again. "You know I've always loved you." WTF?!

"No. This cannot happen." He nuzzled against my neck, whispered in my ear. He was still on top of me. "No! Look, I can be this person or I can be your daughter's god-mother. I can't be both."

That sort of brought him back to reality. If I didn't adore and cherish his daughters -- one of whom is the aforementioned god-daughter -- I would have walked out the room and out of his life, but I do love his daughters, so I sat there with him and tried to talk to him.

He was drunk. He wasn't making any sense or understanding what I was saying. I left him and went to my room.

It was a restless night of sleep. But I hoped that it was just a stupid drunken mistake on his part. I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. After getting up, showered and dressed, I called his room. He was showered and dressed, and sounded sheepish on the phone, so I figured it was cool to go back to his room.

I sat on the end of the bed and started with, "what the hell were you thinking?"

I wasn't surprised by anything he said, he talked about the state of his marriage, how he's horny, how he needs intimacy, how special I am to him, again how much he's always loved me. I was getting annoyed. "Look, I am not the consolation prize for married men going through a mid-life crisis."

"I don't think of you that way."

"Clearly you do. And it's not fair to put me in this position."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

I stood up and was ready to go to breakfast. "Look, if you are really serious about working things out with your wife, if she ever agrees to work on things and wants to go to therapy or whatever, don't do anything stupid and admit what happened last night."

"I won't. If I admit that, I'd have to admit what I did on Friday night."

I stopped in my tracks. "What happened Friday night?"

"S and the girls were out of town for the weekend, and a friend came over to the house."

"You slept with someone....in your house...where YOUR daughters sleep?! Who is this woman?"

"A woman from church."

"Oh that's fabulous. Let me guess, she's married."

"Yea, she is."

"Oh it wasn't a question."

"Sometime the devil gets the best of me. I try to be a good man, but the devil is sometimes stronger than God."

"Oh no, you don't get to do that. Don't pull God into this. This is on you. You made this decision. I slept with Chris on and off for seven years. I felt guilty sometimes, but my selfishness was stronger than my guilt. I own that, I did it because I wanted to. Don't blame this on anyone but you."

I walked out of his room and went downstairs to meet him friends for breakfast. I hadn't been to the Hall of Fame in over a year, he was not ruining this. I went through the museum half-heartedly. I just wanted to get away from him.

November Recap

So in the light of day, and with no beers, Kevin is seeing the light. He and his wife are still having issues, they are still not intimate but he is working on it from his end. I've been checking on him every week or so just to make sure. I know one thing, he won't do anything stupid.

Is it appropriate that I know he and his wife aren't having sex? Probably not, but I've given up trying to understand what my role is in the lives of my guy friends. I knew what it was in high school, and college, and even our 20s. As they all got married and evolved, I'm still the same Ellie, here for them to here the good and the bad.

Another friend, who seems to be in the same situation as Kevin -- lack of intimacy, problems in the marriage, etc (I've written about him when the whole Kevin thing reared its head) -- is not being quite so smart. I met him and a friend out one night. He was very drunk, he was very inappropriate. He kept trying to kiss me, told me that he has always loved me, wanted to spend the night with me.

I pushed him away and told him I was not the consolation prize for married men in the middle of a mid-life crisis! That did nothing to dissuade him. I was pissed. When I finally got him back into a bar stool, sipping a coke, we talked a little.

I should have just walked away from him and never looked back. But his kids are important to me, and they are the only reason I didn't walk. We talked about things he's done, mistakes he has made. He was a lot of talk -- and in the subsequent apologies since that night -- about how he's going to change, how he's better than this.

We last talked about two weeks ago, after I had been dodging his numerous texts. And again, it was a lot of talk, and I told him that. I told him to come tell that he's done these things in six months, not that this is what he's going to do.

And then today, a two-page handwritten letter.

I know he means well. And I think he's trying to change, but I'm not the one he needs to change for. I'm not the one he needs to do right by.

All he's done is convince me that being single is probably a better place to be than married to someone like him.

And the Kevin saga

I spoke to Bubbles and she has put it all into perspective. Well at least has given me something to wrap my head around. "I'm not saying you're not a cool chick, but I think he has idealized you into something that you can't possibly be, because of whatever issues he has going on at home, you are the greener grass."

And she's right. As I knew she would be able to get this into some sort of manageable thought process for me.

Kevin and I haven't seen each other since his wedding, haven't really talked in six months. He's thinking about what he remembers about me....I'm single, I'm fun, sometimes I'm a little wild. There were times when I lived in Rochester and he was in Syracuse, and I would call him at 10pm on a Saturday and ask him if he was up for a 60-mile booty call. And he'd make the drive.

He's thinking about all the times we were single and would hook up. He's thinking about how, before he was seriously dating and then married to Michele, that we would spend hours on the phone, telling each other dating horror stories. He's not thinking about why it didn't ever actually work out between us.

I'm his greener grass, and I need to do my damnedest to make sure he realizes that what he has now is what he's supposed to have.

The End

"It was really easier for you to be mean to me, to treat me like crap, instead of just opening up to me and telling me what was going on in your head? You didn't have to tell me you were scared about going back to Afghanistan, there didn't have to be drama or even a deep conversation. After seven years, you really didn't trust me enough to just say, there's a lot going on, a lot on my mind, can we just hang out and be casual? It was just easier for you to be an ass, to treat me like shit.

"When you left on Sunday, I cried for exactly 10 minutes and then washed my face and made the most of my last day there. Got a tattoo, watched three fountain shows, and sat at a bar and drank beer and watched the Yankees clinch the pennant. We could have done all of that on Saturday, but you chose to be an asshole."

"My silence says it all, you're right...I don't know what to say."

"You could start with 'I'm sorry' because you haven't actually said that yet."

"I'm sorry. I'm an ass."

"I'm glad you're back from Afghanistan safely, I really am. I hope you don't ever have to go back."

"Thanks. I did think about you while I was over there. Thought about how cool you are, how amazing you are, and how you don't deserve how I treated you."

"Yea, I didn't. And I am. And it's too bad you blew it."

And that's the way it was, last night, on the phone, with Chris.

The end.

This Week Began Weirder Than Last Week

...if that's even possible.

I've not heard from Chris since I talked to him last week. I've gone from not thinking about him, to wondering when he's going to call, to forgetting that he re-entered my life, to cursing him for invading my thoughts again. I wrote down the important points I want to say to him, and then put it away. I'm not obsessing over him, but he's definitely been on my mind. Damn him.

But he hasn't been on my mind non-stop for the past 48 hours. It's Kevin. Kevin and I have been friends for nearly 20 years. Our windows were never open at the same time. When I was thinking there might be something between us, he wasn't there. And when he was, I was onto someone else. But he was always there for me. He was my back-up. Until he got married six years ago.

I sent out a blanket email to a group of friends, as I do at the beginning of every month, to promote the raffle. He wrote back, said yes he had been meaning to write me a check, and asked if I was also taking sperm donations. It was kind of funny. And I answered it the way I would have answered it had it been any of my guy friends asking: "lol...always accepting sperm donations, but my parts are broken so you still need to buy some tickets."

From there, it was bizarre. He took it to the next level, was propositioning me, telling me how hot I was, how he thought about me, could we have fun together. Each time, I wrote back asking where this was coming from? Finally I told him we needed to chat the next day.

After a few rounds of phone tag, we finally connected on the phone. Long story short, he was drunk (I had guessed that), but he and his wife haven't had sex in over a year, that he has always thought I was sexy, beautiful hot, how did he let me get away, sometimes looks at my picture on my work website or on Facebook while he's thinking of me. (I know this kind of sounds creepy, but he has been my friend for too long for me to just give up on where this was going or to get the back story.)

I pushed back at him. Where is this coming from? What is going on? You have a great job, a great house, wife, two healthy kids. And then he said it, he'd been so driven for so long and now he had everything he wanted, what was next? (Well, not me.)

I gave him good advice, I think. I told him he needed to stop drinking so much, that he needed to reconnect with his wife, that he needed to stop thinking about me that way. That he needed to promise me he wouldn't do anything stupid, that he wouldn't do anything to risk what he has.

The conversation turned to me. He told me that he's proud of the person I've become, that he's so happy for what I'm doing, that I'm going to be an amazing mom. And then we made small talk about our parents, about mutual friends, about sports. And we promised to chat more, that we'd both gotten too busy and needed to be better about staying in touch.

I think what has me so upside down about this is the possibilities.

With another friend, who is going through similar problems in his marriage (but is much further along to it being over), I know that he's not a viable option for me. We drive each other crazy, we push each other's buttons, we fight. I get pissed at him and don't speak to him for a while.

But with Kevin...with Kevin, I wonder if I had been smarter in my 20s, if I had realized that smart, cute, driven and funny were what I needed. If I had realized that the bad boy sometimes doesn't grow up, sometimes can't be fixed. If I had realized all of that, would he and I have ended up with each other?

It's all of these questions and more just swimming in my head, making me wonder so many things. Hope could see the stress in me the past two days, and I finally talked to her about it today. We didn't really get anywhere. Actually, we both wondered where was Veganica when we needed her. She would know just what to say.

And so....my life becomes an even bigger saga. Confusing, emotional, and sometimes just plain draining.

The Return of Chris

Yup. I'll let you process that for a second.

I know, right.

I went into work this morning and checked my email. The subject line "how are you?"

And then simply: "Just got back from the desert. A long 10 months. Send an email if you want. Be well."

Just like that. Back in my life. Or at least in my mind.

I wrote back: "I didn't know you were in the desert -- I'm glad you're back safe. I figured I hadn't heard from you....well I figured lots of things. I'm good, lots going on in my life. Where are you now? In California? Or back home?"

I checked my email a few times over the course of the morning. I should have known better. I should have known how he works. Two hours later, my phone rang. No number came up on my caller ID, but I knew. I knew it was him.

He had the decency to not give me his usual "hey there." And even had the decency to tell me that he thought about me while he was in Afghanistan, that he realized he was a jerk, that he had found out the week before Vegas that he was probably going back. Even had the decency to ask if I hated him.

I told him no, told him I was pissed at him, for a very long time, but I could never hate him, could never wish him bad, and was glad that for the third time in his life, he made it back safely from the Middle East.

I was at work. Our connection wasn't great. I asked him to call me at home some night. "Really?"

"There will be yelling, just so you know. I'm at work, I can't get into this now."

"I deserve to be yelled at. I shouldn't have....I'm sorry."

I'm not exactly sure what to think. Or what to feel. Or what I'm actually thinking or feeling. After a year, and now after knowing that he was in Afghanistan for 10 months, I just don't know.

Bubbles sent me an email, offering advice. It ended with "tread lightly my friend..."

How in the world do she and I get ourselves in these relationships? That don't seem to go nowhere, but just always seem to go in a circle? Chris and I were in this exact spot six years ago when he got back from Iraq, and now here we are again.

I just don't know.

Angst

And that's really the way I've been feeling since I got back from vacation, for lots of reasons.

The house thing has fallen through. I've pretty much made up my mind that, at this point, I can't afford a house. Actually, I can afford a house. It will just make it very hard to afford day care when the time comes.

And I've got friends who are single mothers, who are all struggling right now. Who's to say that I would be in the same situation, but I think I'm going to feel more comfortable, more stable knowing that I haven't spent beyond my means.

And so I'm starting to look at my current home and figure out where things will go, how I will baby proof, how I will set up furniture in the baby's room. I don't have all the answers, but thankfully (or not) I have lots of time to think about it.

Tomorrow I will be five months on the waiting list. So officially, or unofficially since these are all estimates, I have 11 to 17 months to go for my referral. It seems like forever to wait, but there isn't much I can do about it. I have so few options.

I'm treating myself to a massage tomorrow. I guess that's the plus about not being able to afford a house -- it does give me more breathing room with my money. And given my mood lately, my stress level, my level and hours of insomnia, my restless mind and never ending thoughts, and the fact that very soon, it will be a whole year since Chris and I talked -- I'm going for an 80-minute massage.

There is so much more on my mind, beyond work, beyond the adoption. I learned that the president and a vice president are each expecting their second child in the spring, and the news actually brought me to unexpected tears the other day -- I thought I was beyond that, I really did. I'm feeling things for a friend that I shouldn't, and I'm also confused by it. I need to mull it over in my head more before commenting.

And so all of that going on, all of that brewing in my head, it's no wonder I have been awake on Saturday since 5:15am (and earlier this week went into work having been up since 1:30am -- good times). I'm hoping some time in the sauna, before and after the massage, will help make things right in my head, at least so I can sleep.

What a Shitty Week

After such a great vacation, this week has absolutely sucked. It started when I walked into my house after vacation and saw my pile of mail on the kitchen counter. Peaking out from under magazines and junk and bills and catalogs, I saw the return address of one of the organizations where I applied for a grant.

I dropped everything and ripped it open. I should have realized, that maybe it's like a college acceptance letter -- the thinner they are, the worse news they carry. One form letter folded into a #10 envelope did, in fact, deliver bad news. No grant from the Christians. I couldn't help but think -- probably unfairly -- that my single status doomed me from the start.

Work has been insane. I'm interviewing for a new position that will report to me and we have the final candidates on campus. Which really translates to I'm in meetings all day and can't get actual work done. There are piles that I know are there, that I've purposely made, that are projects I can't even look at or think about right now.

And I am not that person. I move things. Especially first proofs coming back to me, needing to go to the client. But in this case, these projects are also being managed by one of my problem children. And I know these proofs will need a lengthy email to go with them, since there is missing content and photos. And so, the problem child gets pushed to the side of my desk for the time being.

At one point this week I lamented that I wished I wasn't having lunch with a friend from high school on Saturday so I could come into work. How sad is that?!

For the past three or four months, I've been contemplating the idea of buying a house. I'm throwing money away by renting, and I do need something to focus on for the next year while I wait for the referral. I also figured that I would be able to borrow whatever I will need for the final adoption bills.

And so everyone I've told has thought it was a great idea. Everyone has been very supportive. I went to the bank and pre-qualified for an insane amount of money. I told the woman she was on crack, and then started looking at houses for less than half that amount.

I've seen some duds this week, and then last night, I saw a house that was everything I would have picked. An enclosed front porch. In a neighborhood. An open floor plan. Good sized bedrooms. Huge basement that could be converted to a finished basement with a little work. A yard that I could totally manage taking care of. A garage. And it has character. I can imagine myself walking a stroller in the neighborhood.

And then I figured out the monthly mortgage rate. Fine. And then the state, village, town and school taxes. Welcome to New York, please bend over so we can fuck you. I've heard people complain and vent about NYS taxes my whole life, but it didn't mean anything. Until now. Now I get it.

And now I'm feeling completely over-whelmed. And completely crushed. Maybe it was too much to take on. Maybe a house and a baby in less than 18 months is too much. But for the past three years, I've heard people tell me I'm amazing, I'm fearless, I'm so brave, that I can do anything.

And maybe I finally started to believe it. Because I did feel that a house and a baby in less than 18 months was something I could do. Of course, I could do that. I'm competent. I'm responsible. I have to be able to do it, because if I can't, who's going to do it for me?

But the numbers have been keeping me awake at night. The thoughts and the figures and the wondering and the scenarios are all I think about. And this is when I feel so alone. My friends can be supportive, they can listen and give advice. But at the end of the day, it's on me. No one else can help me make this decision.

And in the end, I'm so afraid that I'm going to make the wrong decision. Should I take the leap of faith? Or should I back off? Whatever decision I end up making, I think, for a long time I will wonder what if I had done the other.

Back to Life

...back to reality

I feel so relaxed, I have no idea how I'm going to get out of bed at 6:15 tomorrow morning. But I'll back up and recap.

The Date -- in a word, dull. I was actually very proud of myself for not fixating on the extra eyebrow hairs growing between his eyebrows or on the fact that he desperately needed a haircut. These are all things that would have been immediate deal breakers in the past, but I moved beyond them. He was just very dull. Couldn't carry on a conversation. And it wasn't that he was shy, he was just dull. So that's an hour of my life I won't be getting back, but I did it.

Baltimore -- was so much fun, if not very very quick. I met my friend Mort for lunch on my way into town. I hadn't seen him in four or five years, and I immediately thought how much he had aged. He's in his early 60s, but he was always very youthful looking. At lunch he told me that he had had a bout of esophageal cancer last year. He was cancer-free now, but had to go for biopsies every few months. If it comes back, they will have to take his esophagus. It was scary to hear that, but he was putting up the fight.

I opted not to call J and treated myself to a pedicure before heading over to T&S's house. I got there about a half hour before the girls got off the school bus, so chatted with S and gave her the updates on the adoption. The girls were excited to see me, and I can't believe how grown-up they seem, even since just the spring when I saw them.

T and I headed downtown for the game. There were many, many beers and a shot of tequila, and a late-night run to Burger King for grease on the way home. The game was really good -- it's so nice to see the Orioles playing well, and then even nicer to see A-Rod hit a home run in the top of the 9th. I saw my favorite beer man, visited in the press box, got my picture taken with the Oriole Bird, and as we wandered around the stadium finding better and better seats, I gave little PSA's to all the out-of-town Yankee fans and made them promise they would go to the museum over the weekend.

The next morning, after a little shaking in the shower, I ate a bagel and started to feel a little better. Nothing like grease and/or carbs to help the hang-over.

Once in Richmond, I went wedding dress shopping with my sister-in-law, my niece and her future step-daughter; saw one of my best guy friends from college; went to my brother's softball game; had girls' night at a Mexican restaurant with Debbie and Tiff; took the dogs for a walk every morning and then myself on a three-mile walk; enjoyed the sunshine and 85+ degrees; dealt with two minor work emergencies; managed to get one nap in; took some luxurious soaks in the garden tub; attended Bunco with the neighborhood house-fraus; and sanded and painted my $5 garage sale dresser.

Before.....

After...

...back to the here and now.

I Need Feedback

I'm interested in knowing your opinions on two things:

1. IF, very big IF, the dating thing pans out, when do I tell someone I'm in the process of adopting?
2. And....is it strange that I'm going to a baseball game with my friend on Friday night. My friend who is roughly my age, married, with two kids -- and the wife is not going with us. I am spending the night at their house, going to get there early enough on Friday to see the girls get off the school bus and hang out with them, but then it will just be him and me at the game.
   
   A friend asked me last week who I was going to game with and when I said my friend's name, she said, "his wife isn't going with you?" And I could hear the disdain, disapproval and judgment in her voice.
   
   So is it weird? Is it inappropriate?
   

$500 and 5 pounds...a month at a time

Or I could call this post "Random Updates"

I figured if I can lose 5 pounds a month until I get my referral, then I will have lost in excess of 60 pounds. That allows for some holiday and vacation ups and downs, and is totally doable.

Working out has been great. I'm back in the groove, sweating and loving it. And with the exception of a little blip last week when I was bloated and retaining and having my period and gained a little bit of weight, I have lost almost 7 pounds in four weeks. Goal #1 met for this month.

I also figured that I need to save $500 a month (either savings or from the raffle income) to put me close to my goal. I really need to save more, but I know that $500 is reasonable, doable and some months exceedable. (I know that's not a word, but it works here.)

Friday will mark my four-month wait on the waiting list. And it puts me at exactly a year to a year-and-a-half of waiting left. A very long time, but time I need to become a little more healthy. To become a little more wealthy.

I am also half-way through my three-month experiment on eHarmony. They jury is still out. There is talk of meeting someone for coffee after work on Thursday, but until it's confirmed and I'm sitting there with the handsome stranger sipping some hot cocoa or hot cider (I'm not a coffee drinker) will I say that progress has been made. Call me a cynic, but I've had too many disappointments. I won't set myself up for another.

I did hear from E last week. He was hosting a MNF thing at a sports bar in Albany. I asked if it was an FYI or an invite.

"both, but I'm not staying over."

What to do? I stroked his ego and let him down. I was not going to drive three hours one way to spend an evening in a bar while he was working and hanging out with 500 other people.

We went back and forth, and in the end, I got an "I'd love to see you. When you get back from vacation?"

So, when I get back from vacation, I'll need to figure out how to fit in a visit with him.

And so yea, vacation.....I'm headed to the Yankees game on Friday night and then a week in Richmond, relaxing, napping, walking the dogs, and some more napping.

I'll try to post from vacation, but if not, I promise to be better on the other side.

I am Woman, Hear Me Roar

This sucks. I honestly do not remember feeling this lousy, ever, when I was on the fertility drugs. I was more bloated, I was more puffy, but I was not in this much monthly pain.

And it's not just monthly pain, but every two weeks pain -- ovulation and then that special time of the month.

I've got one more month before I go to the doctor. I only have to go through this dreaded cycle one more time. At that point, they can do a full panel of blood work, tell me all the meds are out of my system, tell me that my insides are useless (knew that), and that will happily give me a hysterectomy.

I don't think it will go quite like that, but here's hoping. If the uterus and/or ovaries are doing me no good, why should I be in this much pain?

And really, we all know how I am, the very next time I have sex, you know and I know that I'll be counting. I'll know exactly where I am in my cycle. I'll hear every single person who told me (over the course of my nearly three years of trying) "as soon as you stop trying, you'll get pregnant."

I'll freak out about when my period is supposed to come. I'll check and double-check. I'll work myself up over every little twinge I feel. And I'll be thinking so much, that I'll make myself late and have to take a HPT. And it will negative. And I will be crushed.

So for all the pain I am in every two weeks, and to save myself from my self-imposed torture after having sex, here's hoping my doctor believes in elective hysterectomies.

Ouch

Yesterday, I was in a meeting for a committee I serve on. I haven't seen another woman on the committee practically all summer -- either she has missed meetings or I have. When she came in, she was overly excited to see me.

"How are you? How's the baby?"

My stomach literally dropped. I couldn't even speak. Just looked back at her blankly.

"Aren't you just coming back from maternity leave?"

I shook my head. "No. That's Heather."

"Oh right," she laughed. And I tried not to cry.

So Much for Growth

Not that I did anything bad, but I was just writing (wow, more than a month ago -- WHERE did the summer go?!) that July 31 came and went without me thinking of it as Chris's birthday. I had a new reader even comment on that post recently, and so because of that comment, I have to fess up that I have been thinking about him.

And even though I deleted his number from my cell phone, and deleted his email address from my address book, I thought about reaching out. I think, after a couple of tries of combining military.navy.us (some combination of that) with either his first name then last name or last name then first name for his email address.

I was near where he lives last weekend. I thought about the stalker drive-by, even though I know he's not there. Although, do I know that? I haven't talked to him in almost a year.

But I didn't drive by -- partly because I couldn't remember his house number and he lives on a mammothly long road, but also because I have more pride. And that's why I will not combine navy and military and us and first and last names, with dots and @ in between.

This way, I'm the one who never called him, I'm the one who ended it. And, as Bubbles says, "always keep the power."

27 Dresses

There's a part in that movie, when James Marsden asks Katherine Heigl why she does it, why she's in so many weddings, wearing so many hideous dresses, going out of her way for all of these people in her life. And her answer?

Because they're her friends, and she wants to be there for them, because she knows when it's her turn, they'll all be there for her.

I've been thinking about that lately. Certainly that wasn't my intent when I did things, when I bought girl scout cookies, or magazine subscriptions, or candy bars, or raffle tickets, or donated for this walk or that walk. I did it because they're my friends or family and I wanted to support them and their interests.

And so was it too much to think, to expect, that the same friends would be there for me? I've got some amazing people -- selling hundreds of dollars in tickets, donating items, selling their chicken's eggs and giving me the money, and even as simple as buying $5 or $10 or $20 worth of tickets.

And then there are others, who are seemingly ignoring me. Ignoring emails about the adoption, are blind to my multiple FB posts and tweets.

And they're people who I always thought I could count on. Brothers and sisters, closest friends. It's so disappointing.

I've been boring....

I've been AWOL from here because I don't really have much going on. I can only tell you I've been working and working out so many times.

The fund-raising is going well. I've passed the 25% mark for the total I need to save/raise. The raffle is going well -- also at about the 25% mark.

eHarmony is not going well. And I actually looked today to see if there was any way to get a refund. There's not. They have my money and I'm stuck with them until the end of October.

So that's that...I"ll try to be more interesting in the coming days and hope to post again mid-week.

WWIII, week 1

I "only" lost 1.4 pounds this week. They told me I need to eat more. I was eating all my points, but not the activity points I earned. So I'm going to not think about it and just do it. If it means a spoonful of peanut butter or a handful of nuts at the end of the night to get those in, that's what I'm doing.

And tonight....chips and salsa at Chili's for me "cheat" dinner after weigh-in.

Here's hoping I can keep healthy thoughts throughout this process. So officially, 10 of the 43 gone.

And, my gym re-opens for the semester tomorrow. Whoo-hoo