Happy Hour Sue and I with Queer Eye's Carson Kressley.
Me and the Michelin Man ( he was getting blown- must be why he seems so happy.) There was a blower ( I think it was a machine, but I can't be 100% sure- inflating or fluffing him- take that however you like). There was a definite humming.
Jen and Paula Deen shooting the shit. I love this picture because I imagine they are exchanging the secret to the flakiest pie crust this side of the Mason- Dixon and I'm pegging Jen as a BIG BAKER- you know, in the down time when she's not Twittering or cleaning up her newborn baby boy's puke out of her mouth!
Everyone wants to know about the swag. I was a swag whore, but not in the bad way. I didn't knock anyone down in the process and only took what was offered to me. I still have bruises up and down my arms for having to carry 5 extra bags on the train full of swag- I was the swag bag lady.
The angel in endearing lesbian form behind me on the train with the eagle tattoo on her arm helped me board the train- bless you- I don't care what the conservatives say, there's a special place in heaven for you.
At last count, some of the highlights were 18 flash drives, 22 tote bags, and one girly toy that is currently tied with my chocolate as "the swag that has provided the most pleasure."
This blog is my document of my life. Any external components are how they affect me. I try not to bash.
My husband's anxiety is one such thing. My enabling throughout the years had worsened the situation and I made a decision to stop it- or try. Thus my trip to Chicago. It was hard for him- his security, his fear, the unknown. I reacted poorly to his poorly directed concern. Like a rebellious teenager screaming at her dad, yeah, I reacted poorly. But his way of showing his love came across less loving and more controlling. We agreed to disagree, kinda.
All the drama, I knew it would make or break us.
To complicate matters, while in Chicago, my husband indulged and read my blog in length and was not happy. Though I have been conscious to not slander and be entirely vague where he is concerned, he felt hurt and violated. Anything I wrote was not a secret to him and was 100% true, but reading it in an open forum was a shock for him and I felt awful.
The truth has often been my curse.
Sunday night, I was a caffeine jolt away from deleting this blog. I began this journey as a healing process and an outlet. I never wanted to hurt anyone with its content. Never.
I ramble. Many things I say in a sarcastic tone. Unfortunately, my writing may not be as descriptive and translatable as it seems in my head.
As hard as it has been to confront these issues with him, I think, I hope, I pray that it has assisted us in a more open line of communication and directed us toward some healing and awareness.
Obviously, I have not deleted this blog and don't plan to. It's too important to me. I will make an asserted effort to not include him in a negative light as long as he keeps his part of the deal and doesn't give me such rich blog fodder and buys me
jewelry, flowers, chocolate, what? I'm easy.