I posted on myspace about my issue. I put it there, since I'm sure he'll see it there. He won't care, but he'll see it. Here is the link:
blog.myspace.com/fierro6
I am so sorry, Mom, for all of the tears that I caused you. I know I caused a lot. I can promise you, for all the horrible things that I did, I never stole any money from you, or any other member of the family. I did plenty else. And I'm sorry. Forgivness is everything, and I know it will come...but not tonight.
Tonight, I reserve the right to be PISSED!
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
09-11-07
On September 11, 2001, I was at work when Kevin called me. He was watching the news (he worked third shift at the time) and was watching what was happening in NYC. He first thought it was an accident (as many did at first) and was so confused. Then, other employees started getting calls from family members.
I worked in a cubical in an office at the time, so there were no TVs around, but folks started turning on news radio, and updating us as more of the story unfolded. A couple of ladies freaked out, left for the day, filled up their gas tanks (after sitting in line at the pumps for an hour or so) and pulled their kids out of school. That was crazy, but every fiber of my being wanted to do the same.
We were stunned...shocked...confused. I cried a lot, thinking about the people and their families, but the tragedy of the day kept growing. There were other things happening. Horrible, awful, unmentionable things. I just wanted to be "in my bubble" at home, with my family near me.
The fact of the matter is, I refuse to live in fear. My kids will go to school, and get a good education. I will go to work and provide for my family. I will attend public events (even though I must go through a metal detector and have my purse searched) and I will fly for business when I need to.
When we shut down, and refuse to stray from our bubble, the bad guys win. Some day, some horrible evil may befall someone that I love...someone in my family. I pray that I never have to know that kind of horror. Meanwhile, I will live. I will live free and I will live my life to the fullest.
While I live, I will remember those who died. I will remember the families involved. I will remember those who cannot move bravely forward, and are locked in their homes, scared to see the light of day. All I can do is remember. Remember and make sure that my kids remember, too.
I worked in a cubical in an office at the time, so there were no TVs around, but folks started turning on news radio, and updating us as more of the story unfolded. A couple of ladies freaked out, left for the day, filled up their gas tanks (after sitting in line at the pumps for an hour or so) and pulled their kids out of school. That was crazy, but every fiber of my being wanted to do the same.
We were stunned...shocked...confused. I cried a lot, thinking about the people and their families, but the tragedy of the day kept growing. There were other things happening. Horrible, awful, unmentionable things. I just wanted to be "in my bubble" at home, with my family near me.
The fact of the matter is, I refuse to live in fear. My kids will go to school, and get a good education. I will go to work and provide for my family. I will attend public events (even though I must go through a metal detector and have my purse searched) and I will fly for business when I need to.
When we shut down, and refuse to stray from our bubble, the bad guys win. Some day, some horrible evil may befall someone that I love...someone in my family. I pray that I never have to know that kind of horror. Meanwhile, I will live. I will live free and I will live my life to the fullest.
While I live, I will remember those who died. I will remember the families involved. I will remember those who cannot move bravely forward, and are locked in their homes, scared to see the light of day. All I can do is remember. Remember and make sure that my kids remember, too.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Wordless Wednesday-Welcome home, son.
The story: http://journals.aol.com/fierrorachel/LifeNStuff/entries/2007/08/15/so-many-good-things/1358
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
What about Lucy?
Lucy's dad ran off around the fourth of July. He is the Chihuahua half of our little Jackahuahua. Keith (kevin's coworker) is heartbroken. He loved that dog, and it doesn't look like he's coming back. He wants Lucy.
Lucy is the love of our lives. She is fun and cute and animated, and she entertains us daily. She plays fetch, smiles when we get home, and curls up between us, UNDER the blanket, at bed time. She is a doll.
She also goes potty on the back porch. Due to our working schedule, she was never properly house trained. She thinks that cement the where she should "go". Granted, it's not in my house, but it's on my back porch. There are times that we come home, and it smells like a kennel in here. She chews up mail and other items, and she barks uncontrollably at anyone who passes by our window.
If she goes to live with Keith, she'll be showered with love, house-trained, and loved by the whole family. My house will be mine again, and we won't pick up poo from the back porch. Keith will have a dog again, and his daughters will adore her. I can turn on the a/c when it gets over 90 degrees, and life will be good.
On the other hand, I cry when I think about it. She is a little doll. Lucy is a personality in this house that I hate to lose. She is fun and funny, and she smiles a full-faced smile when I get home from work. I hold her and pet her and cry at the thought of losing her.
But....BUT.....I think it is best to let her go live with her daddy's owner. I think it's best to let go. Good lord, I hate to think about it, but at least I can visit whenever I want. Sweet, sweet Lucy, my dear sweet dog, after we break it to the girls, I think you will go live with your mamma. She'll take good care of you, and so will the humans who live there. I love you, sweetheart.
Lucy is the love of our lives. She is fun and cute and animated, and she entertains us daily. She plays fetch, smiles when we get home, and curls up between us, UNDER the blanket, at bed time. She is a doll.
She also goes potty on the back porch. Due to our working schedule, she was never properly house trained. She thinks that cement the where she should "go". Granted, it's not in my house, but it's on my back porch. There are times that we come home, and it smells like a kennel in here. She chews up mail and other items, and she barks uncontrollably at anyone who passes by our window.
If she goes to live with Keith, she'll be showered with love, house-trained, and loved by the whole family. My house will be mine again, and we won't pick up poo from the back porch. Keith will have a dog again, and his daughters will adore her. I can turn on the a/c when it gets over 90 degrees, and life will be good.
On the other hand, I cry when I think about it. She is a little doll. Lucy is a personality in this house that I hate to lose. She is fun and funny, and she smiles a full-faced smile when I get home from work. I hold her and pet her and cry at the thought of losing her.
But....BUT.....I think it is best to let her go live with her daddy's owner. I think it's best to let go. Good lord, I hate to think about it, but at least I can visit whenever I want. Sweet, sweet Lucy, my dear sweet dog, after we break it to the girls, I think you will go live with your mamma. She'll take good care of you, and so will the humans who live there. I love you, sweetheart.
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