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Showing posts from September, 2010

The Unspeakable Sorrow

It's a little early, but the second part of George's story is up and posted on the Bargain Hunter website.  This one was hard to write, but what's coming next will be even harder -- pressing on! The Unspeakable Sorrow

excruciatingly honest post alert

DISCLAIMER :   Just a little warning about my post for today -- it comes from an unstable, unbathed woman who has only had one cup of coffee today.  Keep reading at your own risk! :) I feel like I've been sitting on the edge of my seat for a very long time.  Anxious , edgy , maybe even a bit snippety ?  I can't seem to hold still even when I sit down to write.  My hands fidget and brain is on overdrive.  I just can't pinpoint what's going on with me.  I feel as if I'm on a precipice with barely a thread holding me from plunging down into a black hole.  There have been days I want to go into a room and scream.  I seem to always want to be alone and when someone comes home I just want them to leave again.  Solitude is my angry friend right now.  The husband has noticed it and there have been more than enough heated discussions about it.  The kids are so busy that they barely notice it.  If I'm on hand to pick them up from wherever on earth they are at that moment

A few futbol pics

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Ahh, soccer season ... how I've missed you!  Hopefully tomorrow I'll get some of Hunter -- they've been off almost a week. Heading up to Hudson tomorrow for girls and boys games!

An Overview of George's Story

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September, you're such a creeper.  Where did you even come from?   I love fall -- it's my absolute favorite time of year.  The sweatshirts come out of hiding, although mine always need a tumble in the dryer to get rid of that unused smell.  I don't know what lurks on my closet shelves, but I wish there was a button to press to keep all your clothes smelling fresh.   My latest post on the Bargain Hunter website was the start of a new endeavor for me.  Once a month, I'm going to be writing a new installment on the life of my husband Antonio (a.k.a. George).  And yes, we'll eventually get to the story of why he's called George instead of the much sweeter Antonio!  When I met him, in spurts I got the whole incredible tale and how it unspooled.  From his dad's death, the stepfather from hell and the torturous abuse he suffered at his hands, to being lost on the streets from the ages of six to nine.  Let's not leave out living in Acapulco alone at ten yea