I had the most fucked up dream last night. I dreamed that my mom made me a cherry pie for my birthday, and then loaded it up with paper clips because she wanted to kill me. I was working as both an office assistant at my old high school, and also as an teacher at my elementary school, and brought the pie in to share at both places. My coworkers told me they would testify against my mother in court, but I ran into a huge moral conundrum; she's my mother! How can I turn her over to the authorities? But on the other hand, she tried to harm me, by filling my pie with paper clips.

Now that I'm awake, the dream is kind of funny to me, because seriously; how murderous is a paper clip anyway? I think the most damage it would do would maybe chip a tooth. Or maybe you'd swallow it, if you didn't chew your food properly.

Now, if I dreamed that she had ground up glass and put that in my pie, I'd be really freaked out.

There was more to the dream, but I can't remember it. I know there was a reason she decided to do this, though. Money maybe? Money makes people do weird things.

I'm trippin' over this.

I've been in my new apartment for 6 weeks now, and it still looks like I just moved in 2 days ago. I have unpacked the essentials, and the rest is all just sitting there, sadly, in my living room. Unpacking is my least favorite part of moving. By the time I actually get around to unpacking, I am so sick of my own shit, that I don't even want to look at it.

However, when I woke up this morning, I realized that I haven't made this apartment my own. There's nothing on the wall. My kitchen isn't even 1/4 of the way unpacked, and forget my office.

I've been feeling listless, lonely, and apathetic lately. I'm getting more use to living alone, but I can't say that I really like it. I miss having someone there to talk to about my day. I miss having that built-in companion. And relationship-wise, I miss the cuddling, hand holding, and sweet looks.

Time heals all wounds, as the saying goes. I realize that. However, I think unpacking my stuff and getting things organized is going to help a lot as well. Maybe it will make me feel more comfortable in my own world.

Socially, I need to start getting out and reconnecting with people. I realize how much that Dan and I sometimes isolated ourselves, and I want to get past that. I want to start hanging out with old friends, but I also want to start hanging out with new friends.

I'm in a funk, and I need some help.

With as many changes that have happened in my life recently, I figured that it was time to really make a change with my weight.

When I started blogging on LJ in 2003, it started out as a weight loss blog as I was planning on having gastric bypass surgery. I was actually dead set on having it. I researched it. I went to seminars about preparing for it. I even made an appointment and met with a surgeon's team about having it. However, the time never seemed right and I could always find excuses about why I shouldn't have it done. Which means I wasn't ready for it.

That surgery has always been at the back of my mind, and I just assumed that I would eventually have it. However, with all these new changes in my life, there was no way I could take the time to actually have the surgery. Besides, who would come stay with me and take care of me after surgery? (Seriously, one of the drawbacks of living alone; there's no one living with you to take care of you when needed.)

So, as I mentioned above, I decided recently to do something about my weight, finally. I've been heavy virtually my entire life. I was teased relentlessly in elementary school because of it. Junior high, high school and college were all much better, even though I would still get the random fat comment at times. In college, after I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and was put on medication to regulate my hormones, I lost 50 lbs without doing a damn thing. It was amazing. After I lost it, I started to work out and eat better, and I lost an additional 40 lbs. Unfortunately, I gained back 101 lbs, making me heavier than I had been before. Since I reached my heaviest weight in March 2005, I have kind of yo-yo'd with my weight; I lost 40+ lbs when my mom was sick in the hospital, but that was due to huge amounts of stress and not eating. Of course, once she was doing better, I gained back 35 of what I had lost again. Point is, I've never been successful with weight loss for the most part.

I'm digressing, but on Tuesday, I started the Medifast plan, and I'm already down 11.9 lbs. Medifast is a low-calorie basically liquid/soft food diet. It's all pre-packaged, and you reconstitute it with water. Some of the stuff is absolutely horrible, but some actually isn't too bad. I've been eating 4-5 of their meals/day, and then one of my own. Because I'm so new, it's basically been salads with some sort of protein.

These first few days have been tough; I absolutely won't lie about that. I've been overly tired, hungry, headachy, and had a bad stomachache since Wednesday. I know partially it's me detoxing from the shit I use to eat, but it's also my glucose levels adjusting, and my body adjusting to a lot fewer calories. Normally, I'm really, really crabby when I take on a lower-carb diet and they don't last past day 3, but I'm already into day 6. I know it will get better. It already is slightly. The weight loss is a huge motivator too.

My body must be shifting somehow, because I'm already detecting changes in it, which hasn't happened before. Normally it takes more than almost 12 lbs for me to notice anything at all. But my clothing is becoming baggier.

I know that it will get easier, and the stories that I've read in my manual have been really inspiring. There are people who have lost almost 200 lbs in less than a year. That blows my mind away. I don't have 200 lbs to lose, but I can't imagine being to my goal weight by next summer. But here's hoping:)

As most everyone knows by now, the stretch of 35W over the Mississippi River in Minneapolis collapsed yesterday. My friend William sent me a text about the news. Dan and I were together after having picked up my cats from the pet-sitters, and nowhere near that stretch of freeway.

Both Dan and I were immediately like, no way. There is no way that happened; it would be all over the news if it had. About 2 minutes later, they announced it on the radio.

It's amazing how life can change in the blink of an eye, as cliche as that is. The Twin Cities will never be the same.

It could have been anyone on that bridge, and it could have happened in any town, city, state and country. I can't even tell you how many times I have driven that bridge at that time of the day.

I just keep imagining how scary it would be sitting in traffic and all of a sudden having everything fall out from beneath you. It makes me sick to think about.

My heart and prayers go out to the people who were on the bridge, the ones who aren't accounted for, and their loved ones.

Cripes. How is it that it's been so long since I've posted at all? Life has been insanely busy here. It's hard to believe that I'm moving (AGAIN) on Saturday. I really wish I didn't have to move, mainly because moving is just such a pain in the ass. I've done quite a bit of packing, but there's always more to do. It's mainly my clothing, bedroom, bathroom stuff, and some stuff on the walls. I'm ready to be done. I don't want to pack anymore.

My life has settled down quite a bit from the last time I posted. I found a job; I'm going to be working with and teaching autistic kids. I started on Tuesday and went through all the "fun" stuff; confidentiality, ethics, HIPAA, insurance codes, etc, etc, etc. I'm only really part time now until September, and then I'll go full time. I think that I'm really going to like the job. It'll be really good experience in the field, and it looks like it will be a lot of fun. I'm basically going to get paid to play with kids. Yeah, there will be rough days where I may get bit, hit or various other forms of abuse, but no job is perfect... :)

I'm going to be staying with Carrie until I find my own place, which will hopefully be around August 1. I've got the cats figured out, have my moving truck rented, and am ready to get the show on the road.

After Friday evening, I probably won't be online for the weekend. I'm not sure when I'll be back on, but if you need to get ahold of me, and you don't have my cell phone number, let me know, and I'll send it to you. I may not be online, but there's always texting!

What else is going on... Last weekend, I went up to the homeland, aka Hibbing, and had a phenominal weekend. I drank too much, laughed too much, and went to a wedding on Saturday, which was awesome. I met some really cool new people, and got to spend time with people that I truly adore. Coming home that Sunday SUCKED. I didn't want to do it at all.

Mmm, what else. Oh, I finished up my Individual and Relational Therapy skills class. I liked the class, and really liked my instructor, but I'm glad the class is over. It was intense. I'm currently in Human Sexuality, which has been a lot of fun thus far. I'm already 2 weeks in, and it's a 7 week class. It's going to go by fast. And then I will officially be a 2nd year grad student. Scary.

Ok. I need to go do some more packing. I can't wait for Sunday to get here. And I hate Sundays.

Once again, I've become a big slacker with the whole blogging thing. I'm a bad, bad girl. I'll get over it though.

Let's see... What's been going on. Ooooh, I'm done with school for the semester. Unfortunately, I didn't get to properly celebrate when my last class ended yesterday, because I'm sick!!! I had every intention of going to my class, because my final was due (a paper on a book I had to read)... However, when I vomited and started to cough up blood, I decided that maybe going to the doctor instead of class was a better idea. So, I emailed Bruce, my professor, and crawled back into bed.

I got in to see my CNP (nurse practioner) at 2:30. I love her. She's so great. She checked me out, and said that I had a sinus infection, an ear infection, and bronchitis. Good fun, I tell you! She put me on 10 days worth of Augmentin, and sent me on my way. I later emailed her and asked for a prescription for cough medication with some sort of pain medication, because my chest hurts like a mofo. No response yet though. Oh, and the coughing up blood? She said that there was a spot higher up in my nose that was bleeding, and it was probably going to the back of my throat. As I said, good fun. I should probably contact my otolaryngologist (isn't that a fun word? Try to say it. It's a bitch) and find out why I'm still bleeding, 17 months after my septoplasty.

Mmmm, this is such good blogging! I bet you've missed me. BADLY!

I have to admit that I'm really glad school is over for the semester. It wasn't hard, but it was very very busy, and I'm glad to be done with it. I'm aiming to get as close as humanly possibly to a 4.0 GPA. I think that I'm fairly close as well. I predict an A in my Schools of Family Therapy class, and an A-/B+ in my Psychopathology and Assessment class. If I got the A/B+ combo, my GPA would stay at 3.65. If I could get the A/A-, I think I'd be around 3.7. Hey, as long as I can maintain the 3.65, I'll be a happy girl.

In all honesty, that's about all that's going on here. I'm hoping to get back down to Phoenix at the end of the month to see my boy Jason.

I'm also going to be heading up to Winnipeg with my friend Heather, her husband Andy, and Dan at the end of May. I'm super excited, because I've never been to Winnipeg. It should be a fabulous time.

Ok, I need to go to bed. How did it get to be 3:30 already??

First off, I want to thank everyone who has been so kind and thoughtful to me since I posted about my breakup with Dan. I love each and everyone one of you. I'm sorry that I didn't respond back to your comments, but I had one hell of a busy week.

To follow that up, I'm really doing well with our decision. I feel happier than I've been in a really long time, and I know that this was one of the best decisions we could have made. :) I've also somewhat figured out my financial situation, and it definitely works to my advantage, meaning I don't have to withdraw from school, postpone my practicum or any of that b.s. I'm thrilled with how things are working out right now.

Now, onto my busy week. My spring semester is almost over. Can you freaking believe that? I sure can't. I have about 3 weeks left of school left, including my finals. I seriously have no clue where this semester went. I will have 3 weeks off, and then I'll be starting summer classes. I'm taking Individual and Relational Therapy, Human Sexuality, Intro to Play Therapy, Psychopharmacology, and my final Prof. Group. I will also be starting my practicum (internship) in July.

Since the semester is almost over, I've had a lot of stuff due lately, the majority of it being due this past Tuesday. Due to procrastination, I didn't sleep Monday night, but managed to get everything done. I still have some stuff left for the rest of the semester; writing journals, watching movies and doing assessments on them, reading a book, and writing a paper on it, assessments, etc, another assignment in my Psychopathology class, and then the final. I really feel like I've worked my tail off this semester, so I hope to at least maintain my grades, if I don't improve them. As of right now, I think my GPA is right where it was last semester, so I'm happy about that. *knocking on wood* Now watch. I've just probably jinxed myself.

I can't remember if I mentioned this or not, but my friends gave me a surprise party last Saturday night. It was a lot of fun. We went to this place called Park Tavern, had dinner, and went bowling. Carrie and I discovered the joy that is mac and cheese curds (just as healthy as they sound, but they. are. amazing.) Since I'm not a beer drinker, Bryan bought me many many many Scoobie Snacks (a green shot.) on top of the other drinks I had at dinner. Let's just say I had a hangover on Sunday, and I've never had one before. God, it's good to be Irish! (And the birthday girl.)

In other news, I applied for and was accepted to be a volunteer at the annual AAMFT (American Association of Marriage and Family Therapists) conference in Long Beach, CA on 10/10-14/07. I'm extremely excited about this opportunity. Not only will I get to attend the conference for free, but I'll get to meet and listen to some really amazing therapists. I cannot wait.

I also emailed my favorite professor from my undergrad days; Dr. Tafalla. I have a friend who is also a professor and he told me not to be offended if Dr. T didn't remember me. However, he not only remembered me, but he told me that he still talks about a study that I helped co-design in one of his classes. I took that class in the summer of 1999, so I am beyond flattered that he still talks about it, 8 years later.

It was a goooooooood week!

For those of you who blog, do you ever find yourself staring at your screen, wondering how to word something you need to talk about? You have all these thoughts swirling around your head, but you have no clue how to get them onto the screen. It's like the connection between your fingers and brain isn't working anymore. You sit and you think. You start to type, and then delete everything you've written. You realize that there isn't a good way to get out what you need to say, and no one, not even the greats, would be able to externalize what you need to.

I've been told that when you have something to write/say, you just do it. Kind of like taking off a band aid; you just need to rip it off. Granted, it's going to sting, but it's over before you know it. However, I've never been one to just rip off my band aids. I prefer to slowly do it, even though it probably hurts less to just rip it off. I can't make myself do it, because the thought of ripping off that bandage is too scary.

Same thing when it comes to expressing something that's going to hurt. I'm a lot like Winnie-the-Pooh... I think, think, think about how I'm going to do it. I may do a couple of practice runs, and eventually force myself to sit down and type it out.

Maybe because both the writing and the ripping of the bandage make it real. When you take off that bandage, you're left with some sort of reminder that you were physically hurt. With emotional hurts, of course it's real even if it doesn't get externalized. But, I've always been of the mindset that if no one else knows but me, it's not as real, if that makes any sense whatsoever. But once it's on the screen, and you press submit/post/whatever, it's out there, and others are privy to what's going on in your life.

So, as you probably guessed, there is something going on in my life. Something life-changing. Something that I thought I had a much better grip on than I thought I did before I started to type this all out. But I know that it needs to be done before any sort of real healing can occur.

Dan and I have decided to break up.

Is this a little out of left field? Not so much, even though it probably seems that way when you're on the outside looking in. Neither one of us has been happy for a long time, just content. For some people, being content is enough. It's not for me, though. I know deep in my heart that there is more out there. For both of us. We both also realize that we are much better as friends than as lovers.

We just passed the 3 1/2 year mark in our relationship, and from what I can tell, things haven't been right since around the time my Mom got sick in October 2005. We spent so much time away from each other during that period, and the stress was unbelievable; both Dan and I had nasal surgery and then were trying to get ourselves situated to move, along with the fact that I was spending virtually all my time with my mom. Looking back, I don't think we ever truly recovered from the end of 2005. And 2006 brought along it's own set of challenges, including the death of both my grandfathers, and my aunt's diagnosis of thyroid cancer.

For me, the hardest part of coming to the realization that our romantic relationship has come to an end is HOW it came to an end. It's not like one of us did something heinous to the other. There wasn't any cheating. There wasn't an addictions or any abuse whatsoever. Our relationship just ran it's course. And for me, that's the hardest part to deal with, which may sound crazy. But, when something like adultery, abuse and addiction happen, there's anger, which is sometimes easier to deal with. You can pin the end of a relationship on something. "That whore cheated on me." "That son of a bitch wouldn't stop doing cocaine and hitting me." In a situation like this, there's no blame to assign. Don't get me wrong; I'm thrilled that none of that happened. But, it leaves me hanging, and there's nothing to direct my anger at.

Am I angry? Yeah, I'm getting there. Sad? You have no idea. Relieved? Immensely. It's a huge conglomeration of feelings that usually don't mix.

So, now what? I need to figure out my finances, focus on school, graduate, get a job and move on with my life.

Which is much easier said than done.