Last Train to Paris

First of all. Confession. I am addicted. Like Completely Obsessed with Diddy Dirty Money.

And I hate myself for it! Not to mention I feel so..... ghetto!

But I can't help it. It's like a sickness.

Really, I can't stand Sean Combs, Puff Daddy, P. Diddy, Diddy, I mean..... Whatever his name is, he makes me feel sick. Do you remember his I hate Republican YouTube video before the 08' elections? Where he was like spinning in circles saying over and over, "Are you Serious?"


But yet, there I am, surfing the radio and singing along.

Soon I'll be rapping the lyrics and then I will have really hit the shameful bottom known as the Too-Old-White-Girl-Who-Can't-Dance-Making-A-Fool-Out-Of-Herself-On-The-Way-To-Pre-School-Pick-Up.


I've already got quite the rapping repertoire to begin with. What's one more?

Fresh Prince of Bel Aire theme song. Check.

Friday Night. (You know, and I feel alright. Party's here on the Westside.) Check.

Any Salt and Pepper classic. Check.

Coolio. Oh yea. As I walk thru the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I take a look at my life and realize there's nothing left.... Check.

And that Eminem song. The 8 Mile One. Triple Check. All three verses Check.

And soon Coming Home.

What is it about old white girls that love to rap? Seriously.

There's that one girl that raps about nothing on tv. And last night I went to this Women's Banquet with my dear friend Melinda for Tammi Trent and she sang a new song off of her upcoming album and in the middle she rapped!

I can't blame them, I have the rapping infection too.

But ok, this dinner last night. Was first of all wonderful. Just grown-ups. Just me and Melinda. (Well, and Stryker too. But he's so good it hardly counts....) A grown up meal. And an amazing speaker.

Have you heard Tammi Trent speak before?

She is like this fireball of energy. And she shares her heart wrenching story of how she lost her husband.

So, of course, at the mere mention of losing a husband I tear up and try my best to hold it in. And then she goes in to this story of how they were high school sweethearts and were so in love and how happy they made each other and then they decided to start a family and then they were on this vacation/mission trip in Jamaica and he goes diving and doesn't come back up. He dies from a hit to the back of the head by something.

And her world is shattered.

Are you crying yet?

Oh my gosh. I am. It gets me every time. Any time I think about losing Zach, which is more frequent than I think is healthy. But I also think that is a side effect of losing my dad, someone I couldn't have ever imagined living without.

That's a different blog.

I couldn't do it though. Tammi Trent turned her loss into this ministry for hopeless women.

I would crawl into a hole and never. Never. Come out of it. Zach is my whole world. My Aunt made the comment last weekend that we were soul mates. And it is so true.

In fact, I get physically sick thinking about it.

Last night, after coming home, I walked in to a rum and coke and BBQ chicken fingers because I complained on the way home that all they gave us to eat was a side salad with no dressing and a gross piece of hard, cold chicken (I told you it was grown up.). Zach had this whole little meal for me. He is the best man out there. The best. And I have him. If I lost him, I don't think I would ever be able to find myself again.


Enough of that.

But this brings me to my next point. It's something that I need to come to terms with. I can't blame pregnancy and hormones and being a girl and whatever other excuse there is out there anymore.

I am an emotional crazy person. Excuse me. An Over-Emotional crazy person.

I cry at everything. Literally everything.

When I see sad things on tv. Or hear them. Or talk about them. Or talk about my kids. Or Zach. Or God. Or the freakin' weather.

It doesn't even really have to be sad.

Happy things make me cry.

Monotonous things make me cry.

I am just this constant water works of leaking tears. I don't even know what to do about it.

I suppose I should just embrace it and except this knew page of my personality. Not that it isn't crazy enough. Let's throw in emotional basket case while we are at it!


Excuse me now. Tori and Dean just got into a fight on the third episode I've seen of a reality TV show, and now I have to cry about it.



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