back to school It’s rainy.

And gloomy…

Pretty gross out today.

Perfect for driving.

NOT. So, of course…I’m only that much more freaked out as I watch Jonah drive away in the Prius with the STUDENT DRIVER sign on the top. Oh fuck. Not only do I officially have a kid old enough to be driving, in two weeks he’s starting high school. I can’t stop crying. In fact, I haven’t stopped crying for days.

I’m filled with so many emotions.

But why?

Is it because Jonah is growing up so fast, or that I am? 

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I don’t want to meet the kids.

Or get engaged.

I don’t feel the need to co-habitate,

Or ever blend families.

I am never getting married again, and I think all relationships (after divorce) will eventually come to an end. Yeesh. Do you think I’m being pessimistic? Well, I’m not. I’m being realistic y’all.

And I am in love, and just living in the moment.

I mean, right?

Or do you think I’m full of shit, and just protecting my heart?

We mock what we do not understand.images-1

And let me just say this….

I

do not

understand.

I can not fathom how normal human beings (by normal I mean non-SuperHeros) can do the things that CrossFitters do. Oh, sorry…My bad. Do Y’all know this CrossFit shit? These ULTRA-insane looking men and woman who have like zero body fat and are able to leap small buildings in a single….oh wait, that’s not a CrossFitter. That’s fucking Superman. But I swear to Goddess, they are one in the same. Have you seen these people? Holy Hardbodies, Hurvitz. Wake up! Why in the hell am I dating a CrossFitter?

Why when I smash Duck Donuts like it’s my job…would I EVER fall for a guy that counts macros, and runs twelve miles in a weighted vest for FUN?

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Where do I start?

From the top.

And 5, 6, 7, 8…

The beginning.

Doe, rae…MEEEE!!

Look at that! How do I always seem to bring it back to who’s important here? ME. As I’m singing “Let’s start at the very beginning, it’s a very good place to start…when we count we begin with one, two, three. When we sing we begin with DO RAE MEEEE!” Yes. Me. I love it. Maria Von Trapp got it all right. That Nazi bitch making those queer-matching-ass shorts outta curtains is good for something, people. She is starting my blog today.

My blog about me.