It took me about a week to get to the point where thinking about writing this didn't make me want to throw up. And then another five days to get it written. I hurt someone really badly and it’s taken a while to wade through my own muddled thoughts and get to the point where I could explain it to myself, let alone anyone else.

I discovered a long time ago that one of my downfalls is the romantic comedy, or, "chick flick". Life is not a movie. I looked back recently, and my very first post on my very first blog was about how movies were unrealistic. Life is not scripted, and it isn't neatly wrapped up at the end of two hours. You can't make a mistake of the size people in movies often do, say you're sorry, kiss and have the happy ending. In life not all things are forgiven. The ends of three movies have been playing and replaying in my head over the last week, and please bear with me as this rambles on and around:

The Cutting Edge: Kate messes up everyone’s life on purpose, trying to get what she thinks she wants. When confronted, she explains her reasons, and says "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to turn out like this. I'm so sorry, for everything. Please excuse me." and flees the room crying. There’s a montage of scenes of everyone thinking about what has happened. The next morning, much is better and at the end Kate and Doug are in love and you are led to believe that they win the gold medal and live happily ever after.

Bed of Roses: Lisa doesn't feel that she is worthy of the kind of love she is receiving, and doesn't really know how to give it either. She runs out on Lewis, the only person that has ever really loved her, saying it's too much pressure. Another montage of thinking and reflecting. She shows up at his apartment after three months, things are awkward, and she starts to leave and says "This is the part where you're supposed to say wait. Yeah, this is the part where I start to leave and that’s when you forgive me for being such a coward, and for being the last person to figure out what everyone else already knew, and you call out 'wait', and I stop, and we hold each other, and that's when we know everything is going to be okay". And he does, and this movie too leads you to believe that these characters live happily ever after.

The Truth About Cats and Dogs: Abby is a lovely woman but society has told her she is ugly so many times that she now believes it. Brian falls in love with her radio personality, but, because Abby lied to him, he thinks she looks like someone else. Brian finds out the truth, and, understandably, flips out. She apologizes, saying she can't change it and she did it because she wasn't confident enough that even though she was a great person that he would still like her if she wasn't pretty. It takes him a little bit longer to come around than in the other movies, but eventually he does, and once again- the happily ever after.

There are things that bother me about each of these. Yes, I know, and I already said, movies aren’t real, but I’m going to talk about why it bothers me anyway. I hate the words “I’m sorry”. They don’t really mean anything. People have used them so many times for so many reasons other than truly being sorry. And it’s just a word. A word that means you really do regret what you have done, but it’s still just a word, and a word can’t undo what has been done. Sometimes it does have the power to do what you want it to, but so many more times it just can’t. Sorry doesn’t heal the damage that has been done. Sorry doesn’t give back the lost months of your life, like in The Cutting Edge. Whether you meant for things to turn out the way they did or not, fact is, they did turn out the way they did, and saying I’m sorry doesn’t change the consequences. In my life, sorry doesn’t put the pieces of his heart back together. I didn’t mean to break it, I didn’t set out to hurt him, but the fact of the matter is that I did.

Admitting that you are a coward, admitting that it took you too long to see what everyone else sees in you, that’s a good step. But it’s just a step. Realizing that doesn’t mean that the underlying issues are resolved. Issues like that take a lifetime to build, they don’t magically go away in three months. And, while I fully believe that forgiveness *can* be given that quickly, I know that it is rare indeed, (“indeed”… another reminder of another man loved and lost…) and about as unlikely as it is rare. As much as we might want it to be, human love is not unconditional. It can come close, and if you’re lucky enough to find something close to it you better realize what you have and hang on to it for dear life- don’t squander it or take it for granted, because some people would give their very soul for what you have.

The scene from The Truth About Cats and Dogs is the scene closest to my life right now. I’ve been relatively careful up until now to keep any picture or physical description of me off of this website until now. Why? Is it because I think that people will find my writing any less interesting if they knew I wasn’t some supermodel? I don’t even know why really. The truth is, I’m interesting, I’m sweet, I’m engaging, I’m cute, apparently I’m bubbly ;o), but I’m not what would generally be considered beautiful. I know that there have been people in my life that think I am beautiful, but in general I would not be considered to be. And while everyone knows the ideals are unrealistic, I’m nowhere even close. That’s because I’m fat. Not one of those women that are 5’8 and 155, who thinks they’re fat, but truly fat. And you know what? I don’t care what you think about that. That’s probably because I’m not actively trying to date anyone who is reading this. (and if I am, you already knew that so it doesn’t matter that I’m saying this because I already know how you feel about it. Well, except you Adrian, if you’re reading this) But while I say that now, I haven’t always been able to. I’ve been meeting guys online for a while now, and as hard as it is to admit, I’m not always confident enough in my real looks, and I’ve lied about what I look like.

Like the character of Abby (from whom I derived my online persona and the name that I go by in certain forums), I’ve spent much of my life being looked down upon for my looks. And when it happens as often as it did/does, one starts to believe what is being said about them. About me. Abby has a chance to meet what seems like an amazing guy (who puts roller skates on his dog, but come on, everyone has done something that stupid at one time or another) but she is so afraid that he’ll reject her based on looks alone that she lies. As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve done it. As much as I profess to be comfortable with myself and with who I am and what I look like, I’ve pretended to look like someone else. Not *be* someone else, because in all my conversations with these men, I have been myself. Not only myself, but the self I *wish* I could be around everyone in my life, and not just a select few. But a lie is a lie, no matter the reasons. And lies hurt people. In the end, Brian forgives her. He is very hurt, and lets her see that she’s ripped his heart out, but in the end he forgives her. I’m not going to hold onto hope that my “Brian” will forgive me. Because life isn’t a movie. It isn’t a fairytale with a happy ending. It’s an endless learning process, one that involves pain and regret.

But I’m done beating myself up over it. I’m done feeling bad about the things I’ve done that I can’t change. Peter told me something last week. He said, “Feel bad about something until you know why you feel bad about it, then decide you’re not going to feel bad about it anymore, and do what you can to keep it from happening again.” I didn’t really want to hear that, I was enjoying my wallow, but he was right. I know what I did. I know why what I did was so crappy. I know I’m sure as hell never going to do it again. And I’m going to let it hurt. Yes, I hurt him, and I hurt him badly, but I hurt me too.

So to my “Brian”- I’m so sorry baby. I know it doesn’t help. I know it doesn’t take it away. But I have to say it. Whether or not you ever forgive me, whether or not you ever even see this, I said what was in my heart and I tried to explain, and that’s really all I can do. I wish you the very best of everything in life. – Abby

Maybe now I can accept myself as I am, and stop trying to mold myself into what I think someone else wants. The last thing he said to me, on that hellish afternoon, was this:

“Next time, try to be honest. Because the next guy who comes along could be the one you’ve been waiting for. But if he doesn’t know who you are he might pass you right by.”

If I’m not myself, I’m no one, and I’m letting down all the people who believe in me and believe that I have the strength to be the person I want to be. So I started off with movies, and I’ll end with a song, since song lyrics tend to have such an impact on me as well…

If just one person believes in you
Deep enough, and strong enough, believes in you…
Hard enough, and long enough,
Before you knew it someone else could think
If he can do it, I can do it
Making it two….
Two whole people who believe in you
And if two whole people believe in you
Deep enough and strong enough, believe in you,
Hard enough and long enough,
There’s bound to be some other person who
Believes in making it a threesome
Making it three….
People you can say: Believe in me…
And if three whole people,
Why not -- four?
And if four whole people,
Why not – more, and more, and more…
And when all those people believe in you,
Deep enough and strong enough, believe in you
Hard enough and long enough
It stands to reason you yourself would start to see
What everybody sees in you
Then maybe even you
Can believe in you too

I’m going to a concert with Charlotte on Wednesday. I’m a little worried that she may explode. She has had quite a lot of excitement over the last few days, and she’s only 4’9” so there’s only so much excitement that such a tiny body can hold.

I’ve mentioned before that she is the biggest Alanis Morrissette fan known to man. We’re going to see Alanis and the Barenaked Ladies at Shoreline tonight. That in and of itself is cause for her excitement level to exceed capacity. I mean, we all remember what happened the day Alanis’ new CD was released…

Thing is- Charlotte also bought her dream car last Friday. And when I say dream car, I mean dream car. She has wanted a Volkswagen beetle since she was like, 7. And since the new beetles came out, she has wanted one of those. (Her son, who is almost seven, learned his colors via “the buggy-bug”. He would point and yell “Buggy Bug!” and we’d say, “what color is it?” and he’d yell “Blue!” (because in the beginning of his color learning everything was blue) and we’d say “no, that’s Green” or “No, that’s purple”. I tell that story to illustrate the depth of the obsession.) A few years ago, Keegan had a new beetle (but he has since gone back to his one true love, the Volvo) and she got to drive it once. I seriously thought she was going to have an aneurysm from the excitement. Ever since 1999, she has wanted a 2000 Limited Edition Beetle in Vapor Blue. And on Friday she bought one. Again, little-body-excitement-capacity reached near critical overload.

I’m a little worried that the combination of *driving her new car* to a concert to see *Alanis* will by far exceed her capacity for excitement and she may just burst into lots of little tiny excited bits.

And little tiny excited bits are hard to clean off a leather interior…

As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I spent a very pleasant Saturday evening in the company of some of my favorite bloggers. Ever since Tara and Matt moved to Seattle, I have not known in person any of my bloggy friends. I am happy to say all that changed Saturday night. I'm not sure what I can say about it that hasn't already been said by all the others but I'll try... Others have told of the people, I'll tell of the party.

I got there at about 10 to 6. I figured I was right on time. Turns out I was the last to arrive. But hey, who's complaining? "Judy's here, let's get this party started!" I gave Brad and Jen the gift I had made for them/Zoey, and they seemed to be pleased with it, so that was nice. Seemed I was the only one who had brought meat to throw on the grill, so Remy and Brad made a trip to the store. (And they brought me back Smirnoff Green Apple Twisted) While the were gone, Dan got the fire going.

Brad and Remy returned from the store without the bread bowl Jules had requested. There was much mourning over this, until we just put the spinach dip in a bowl. Brad manned the grill for the brots and the chicken, then Remy cooked the steaks. An impromptu table was set up because there was more food than table space. After we ate we retired to the Tiny Tiki for some good conversation, some paparazzi impersonations, and some incredible lemon bars... We talked about sites and writing and life and other stuff that I don't remember because apparently I was busy being bubbly and was having my brain fried by digital camera flashes in the dark garden.

Dan and Kelly had to leave way too soon, to tend to Cosmo, so we commenced with the group picture taking, and the hugging, and the goodbye saying. All in all it was a very very enjoyable evening that I would not hesitate to repeat.

When I first started this blog, it was mostly for the random things that happened in life that I wanted to share somewhere. Mostly, I wanted a blog that would make people laugh, maybe make them think sometimes, maybe even share a few stories about my life. I never really thought of it as a place to write cathartic things, or a place to get things off my chest in any sort of confessional manner. There have been a few things here that are those types of posts, most of them in this past year. I'm feeling like that is the direction this blog is going to start going more often. I think I used to write more for my readers than for myself. That's going to change, at least for a little while. The fun stuff won't go away, there's just going to be a bit more real life along with it.

It's time I was honest, both with myself, and about myself. These things need out, for several reasons. So sit tight and fasten your seatbelt, or wait 'til the ride is over and come back then.

It is far too early for a Monday morning. I like sleep. I don't actually have to be up for another hour. But I'm wide awake. This is not really okay with me, but since I'm not asleep I figured I'd post something. I actually have a lot to write about these days, it's going to be a matter of finding the time (and in some cases the courage) to write about the things trying to get out of my brain. This weekend was weird. I need to qualify that statement quickly, before the four other bloggers that I spent a lovely evening with on Saturday take that the wrong way.

Friday night was planned to be a movie night with Keegan (PK), Ida, and Sarah. It turned into an intervention of sorts, with the three of them being more than a little bit concerned about some things going on in my life. I had already spent a good part of Friday in tears, so this little "surprise" of theirs didn't help matters much. I may say more about that, but that'll take courage that I don't have right now. The good news is that this little stunt of theirs forced me to talk about things that were going on, and I was actually able to sleep that night, and to enjoy the rest of the weekend.

Saturday was a lazy morning, then errands, then a fun party at Jules' house, in honor of Brad and his wife coming out to SF for the weekend. More on that later.

Then yesterday was supposed to be a sewing day at Ida's. It took me forever to get up and get going, after not getting home from the party until around 2 am. Lucky me I got to spend the entire morning turning off comments on the old blog because it has been getting hit with spam right and left (thank God for MT blacklist) but it got really hot up in my bedroom and I had to get out of here. I was on my way to Ida's when my phone rang- it was my friend Eve inviting me to go to the theater. Which meant I had to go back home and grab clothes to wear. Then I finally got to Ida's where it was way too hot to iron, but I ironed anyway, doing one piece of fabric, sitting down and cooling off, then doing another, then sitting, lather, rinse, repeat.

The show was The Good Body, which is by the same woman who did the Vagina Monologues. It was about the struggles women of all cultures have with body image and the need to fit some unrealistic image of the ideal. Quite a fitting subject for me right now. During the show, I was unsure how I felt about it, but I think I liked it, and after the show the five of us went to Max's and had dessert.

And now that I've been wide awake for an hour and have to get up and start moving in 8 minutes, I could totally fall back asleep. Ugh. It's Monday.

Well... Turns out T will not be coming back. They took him to County Hospital and put him on suicide watch that night, and then he was transferred to juvenile hall the next day. Apparently he called several times during the night begging to come home, saying he'd "never do it again". Chris was having none of it. Which, I hate to say, for me is a good thing. I can't live like that, and he's not my kid so I shouldn't have to. And I told Chris that in no uncertain terms - that I'm *not* staying here if he comes back. Looks like he's in trouble for a couple of burglaries so he may be away even after his 18th birthday, so depending on the outcomes there, I may or may not stay here- I haven't quite decided yet.

Chris now both sleepwalks and talks in her sleep, but I'm no longer too worried about actually being in danger, though I'm still a little jumpy when there are loud noises around the house. I'm about as unpacked as I'm going to get for a while, I've got boxes in the attic of stuff I don't need right now, so if I have to move there will be only about half as much to do.

Has anyone else ever dropped a tube of toothpaste in a box of unmatched socks and then couldn't find it? No? I'm the only one that does that? Okay...

Oh. My. God. In the course of coming up with the title for this post, things in the house where I live went from "really unpleasant" to "I just called 911" I'm fine, I'm in my room with the door locked, but there are cops in my house.

I initially intended to write a post complaining about the little irritations of living with a seventeen year old - I'll call him T. (In a roommate situation, I live with him and his mother and another roommate) He doesn't lock doors, he doesn't respect other peoples' stuff, he's a drug dealer (not confirmed), blah blah blah, et cetera, ad nauseum. He and his mom were arguing *again*, and I wanted to just open my door, swear at them and be like "can I please just have *one* night of peace??" and decided that wasn't worth it, that I was going to just curl up in a ball in my bed and cover my ears. I've only lived here a month, which in my opinion is too soon for things to go so far downhill.

But as I was about to do that, I decided to bitch on my blog instead. So I pulled up MT and started typing. A knock at my door proved to be T's mom, asking me to call 911 since I have a landline and she doesn't. I'm not going to go into details about that, I just don't know enough of them, but I guess he was talking about suicide, which was the excuse to call but only the tip of the iceberg.

As I write this, T is in jail (I think- he's not here anyway), and now that he is gone the unearthly screaming has stopped. Now there are cops downstairs in the kitchen (three of them) talking to Chris. T supposedly isn't coming back for a while, but I'm not sure I want to take chances. I'm going to talk to Chris in the morning, but I may be staying somewhere else for a few days, and looking for a new place to live. I'm going to go to sleep now, the adrenaline rush is subsiding and I'm suddenly very tired. I'm just praying I don't have nightmares about the screaming.

Scene: Judy and PK in the kitchen making dinner...

Me: (rummaging in cabinet) What's the difference between French Thyme and regular Thyme?
PK: about 8 hours
Me: Kiss my ass
PK: OW!!!
Me:What?
PK: I just stabbed myself in the ball with a [frozen] chicken breast!
Me: Trying to kiss my ass??
PK: Yes!

Well, I'm back from my trip. On the whole, I am quite pleased with PK's performance as a guest blogger, though I did make one minor change to his final entry and warned him that you never mention the company you work for by name. Tales of my trip are forthcoming, and while even though mostly all I did was sleep and swim, there is the story of how I could have broken my leg and the story of how I came close to slicing my hand open. But I'll tell those stories another day, because today's story is of how I had dinner with PK yesterday, came to hate him with a fiery passion, and by the end of the night was $200 poorer but the happiest Judy I have been in forever. (oh, and loved PK again, don't worry)

We were sitting at dinner, me having just returned from the salad bar, when PK looks at me and says "Guess who has a new laptop?" (or something like that, the actual words were lost in the blinding hatred that followed) I froze. Fork midair, staring at him. He went on to say that his company was retiring some, and its always good to have an in with your IT guy. Still staring, fork lowering slowly to plate, I just didn't know what to say to him. Told him I hated him and demanded explanation. Not two weeks ago, we were at Fry's, me desperately needing a new computer, needing him to keep me from buying one. He said he'd keep an ear out at work. And here he is with a new laptop?? Then he drops the second bomb. Not only is it a free laptop, it's a PC. PK is a mac guy, because of his photography and art stuff. I'm the PC user stuck in hell with the antique mac laptop (which, yes, was free from my job a few years ago). I asked if there were any more, if he could hook me up, told him to pass an offer from me to the IT guy (which I am not repeating here and PK if you tell anyone I will hurt you) and finally offered PK cash and all three of my old computers in trade for his new machine. That was mostly desperation talking, I was only half serious, but he agreed. Yes! He. Agreed.

So here I sit, on my bed, on the 4th of July, waiting for my roommate to get out of the shower so I can get in there and get on with my 4th of July plans, using the most wonderful computer ever to grace any home of mine! PK is my hero.

Until you've worked for a large corporation, you just can't fully appreciate and relate to the humor in the Dilbert cartoon strips. For example, today, I got an e-mail from one of our VP's about the status of our merger. "In the first edition of our joint OldCompany/MergeCompany Integration Newsletter - please find a few answers."

You'll have to take my word on this, but there were no new developments or even tidbits of info on the status of the merger. Let alone a "few" answers. In fact, the first three are verbatim regurgitations of press releases issued months ago!

I used to get really upset when I would see stuff like this, but that was when I first started here and had never worked for a large corporate organization. The fascinating thing is that, the more people here (including me) seem to embrace "Big Brother", the more benefits we seem to reap.

Anyway, we're not quite at the point of sending memos regarding memos, but I do keep the new TPS Report cover sheet on my desk as a way to stay grounded. And, yes, I got that memo.