For the most part, I get pretty nice email or messages from people.  Lots of people write and use words like "inspiring" or brave or whatever.... but I don't usually share them because that seems a bit obnoxious.


I'm a b*tch who was unknowingly in an unhappy marriage and got cheated on... I made a funny sign to sell our home.... and we all know the rest.  While I'm humbled by the idea that some people are positively affected by my willingness to share my story - and it's very, very wonderful to think I've helped people...... I *personally* wouldn't use words like "inspiring".... but that's just me.


Believe or not, I *have* actually shared the negative comments.  
Well... ok - so when comments come in, it display's an IP Address for who sent them.  There have been a few occasions where *really* nasty comments came up with a very local IP Address and I suspected it was someone who knew us or what friends with La Novia/El Capitan and in that case I don't post those because I want to avoid creating more problems among us.


But.... I only have one friend in sweet Canada - hi Emma!  - What's up with me and Canada?

Honestly..... lol

Today this wee gem came in:

Kat said:
I lost count of how many times you said "f*ck/f*cking/boof*ckingya". First, everyone knows you're saying "fucking". Why censor it? Are 6-year-olds reading your blog? Secondly, when you say it at that frequency, it makes you look vulgar and not very smart.

In the first place..... I checked the IP address and found it was only a FEW DIGITS off of Ms. Posits.... and that they both live in the same town in Canada......
Sigh.

Be as insulting as you want but how *fucking* high school to have your friends do it or use your friends computer.... lololol.  It's like getting my house tee-peed.  hahahahaha

"Kat" is no the first person in my life to point out that *I*....... have a potty mouth.  At this point, and at my age - I think it's fair to say that I have *more* than a potty - I think the whole motherf*cking bathroom is in there, frankly.
Someone pass the bleach mouthwash please. hahahaha

I have, over the years, considered not swearing -either at all, or not as much.
Then I thought..... f*ck it.

Just the other day Carhartt pointed out that I'm the first person they have EVER met who can literally take *any* ordinary word and turn it into a swear word by inserting the word 'f*ck'..... and how coming out of *most* people it would be offensive... but when I say it:  it's cute and funny.
Clearly... we're still in that "honeymoon" phase.... hahahahaha

Regardless.... it's true.  I say f*ck and I say it *alot*.... and Dear Kat.... I don't care.
Not a little.
Not a lot.
Not at all.

In fact, I interviewed Beth Orton once - we did pictures for a magazine cover on a rooftop then we did an interview in the tour bus.  During the interview she mentioned that one of the guys in the band was *always* bringing back a new girl after every show and shagging them in his bunk on the bus.  A tour bus is *small* quarters - where the bunks are two high and three long and face each other with curtains at each bed that are your *only* privacy.

I remember asking her if she cared that he did that - and she replied.... "Do I f*ck.....?"
It was absolutely the *most* creative way anyone has ever said 'no' to me in my life...... it was brilliant and I have used that line in as many conversations as I can since 1997.  

And then.... there's always Dexter's sister - Deborah Morgan - who say's f*ck like a thousand times in an episode.... she's kind of my hero.  Her and House.  Yup.... that pretty much sums me up. lol

What people don't usually know and understand about me is that while I'm confident, I'm not really arrogant.  I don't think I'm smarter than other people or that I know more than other people .... and I'm not above someone pointing out something about me that I need to work on or improve.... so, even thought I suspect that Kat's words come from another place:  they still gave me pause.

Am I vulgar?

F*ck yeah I am..... that is sure as sh*t true to say..... and I could give a sh*t.

What is vulgar.... the use of offensive language?
In the first place.... don't be my friend if you find it at all o-f*cking-ffensive that I swear.
Done.

In the second place ..... you *might* want to evaluate how much f*cking time you have on your hands to go to a blog and read it enough times to *know* just how many f*cks are on each page.... (for the record, there are less than 65 forms of f*ck in 300 pages in The Book - I thought I did pretty well there..... )
Why are you here?

*You* have the power to hit that little red 'X' in the top right corner of the screen (top left on a MAC) - and if you're too stupid to figure out that you have the power to read and not read whatever the f*ck you want - then you're clearly too stupid to *be* vulgar.

Believe me..... you assume my use of curse words is a sign of my ill-educated mind.... but I can assure you that one has to be well educated and have a firm grasp on the English language to be able to pepper it with fbombs..... I'm like a Master F*cking Vernacular Chef of sorts.

Finally..... as the button (recently purchased for me by a GOOD friend!) - clearly states.... See All The F*cks I Give.....?  Exactly.

I find *a lot * of things vulgar.... starting with stupid people.
Then closely followed by ... husbands who cheats, women who sleep with married men, people using their kids against in each in a divorce, rape.... incest, drunk driving, theft, bullying, racism, bigotry.... just generally being an a$$whole.

Those *things* are vulgar... and yet they happen *all* the time... and we excuse them.

Oh.... his wife was a real bitch - she got fat.... you can't blame him for leaving.....
Oh... she's young and doesn't know better.....

If Tommy Jr. undertands what a douche his Dad is - he'll grow up to be better than his Father.....

That guy is such a "fag"......
Are you a 'dot head Indian' or 'the feather' kind?  (I actually heard that TWO WEEKS ago. sigh)

People are vulgar allllllll around us, everyday .... and we let is slide.  We excuse it, we explain it, we dismiss it -
we let our friends leave the party when we *know* they've had too much drink because we don't want to argue with them......

Who cares if I write a little blog and say f*ck a lot?
Not me.  See above for all the f*cks I give.

Seriously.


One of my very bestest friend, Miss J - called me in complete annoyance because *her* little boy had said "fuck" at preschool.  Miss J is a *great* Mom.  They eat mostly organic - she doesn't pull thru McDonalds to get her kids a smoothie... no that b*tch pulls out her fancy-a$$ blender and makes those bad boys FROM f*cking SCRATCH!!!!  She has cupboards with those magnetic locks on them.  She cloth diapered and buys hemp clothing and *never* swears in front of her kids.... who all, incidently, have a strict bedtime and they never, ever co-sleep.  


The Boy had no bedtime.  Ate food from Wal-Mart and smoothies from McDonalds and was the proud owner of thousands of Pampers that he sh*t in.


Oh.... and his Mommy has a potty mouth which she has *never ever* hid from him.  Period.


She called to say that she *could not* believe that *her* kid was coming home with a note from preschool about having said f*ck during Choice Time.... and she wanted to know how it was possible that The Boy had never cursed at school.


I explained that from a *very* young age I told The Boy that he was free to use adult words, but that if he did, he wouldn't have friends.  Other parents would hear him talk and not let their children play with him.  I told him that people would judge him for using those words and that, in the end, he would wish he hadn't used them.


So.... he never has.  Poor kid thinks "idiot" and "dumb" are bad words. lol 


The truth of the matter is- we are *not* putting enough value on OUR collective behavior... but we *do* put a  lot of value on our words.  We can show rape and murder and untold amounts of violence on TV.... but say f*ck at all - or sh*t before 9pm.... and you'll get an FCC fine.


Really?


Last time I checked - no one was harmed in the making of this blog - no matter how many f*cks I write.... and yet, dozens of people are *harmed* by other people's actions while I sit here and write this... and later while you sit and read it.


I'm honest.
I don't really give a f*ck.
I have a potty mouth.... big whoop.


I'm also a good person.
I got over my sh*t and have dragged this family to a better place.... even if it was over broken glass and I swore the entire way there..... I got here.
and yeah..... boof*ckingyah to me.
Seriously.


Do you know how many people don't make it here?
How many people give in to their anger?
Give in to their fears?
.... never move forward.


If you don't like how I've done it.... that's totally cool with me.  
If my fbombs bug you.... then guess what:  you're probably not my kind of person.
and again... please refer above to see just how many f*cks I give.  
lololololol


We live in a country where we no longer know our neighbors, where our kids spend more time texting and sexting than they do *connecting* with real family and friends who will carry them through their hard times.... we are *literally* killing each other in movie theaters and on the streets of New Orleans at a Mother's Day Parade.... THAT IS VULGAR.

I'd rather listen to someone's potty mouth alll day long than deal with that sh*t.
Bring on the Andrew Dice Clay.
Bring on Lisa Lampanelli.

I don't need to be not vulgar.
I don't give a sh*t if you or anyone else thinks I'm educated or not.....

I have to be a good Mom.
I have to find a way to support us.
I have to find a way to move us forward.
I have to make two happy families out of one.
I have to forgive.
I have to be tolerant.
I have to accept.

I have done those things and speaking frankly..... the rest of my little family is the better for it.
Did we say f*ck a lot along the way......?
Yup.... sure did.

Did it hold me back?  Nope.
Did it change anything?  Nope.
and because of that.... I wouldn't change me.

This is me.
This is how I process things.
This *is* how I talk.....

Again- red X - find it and move on. :)

For those who also don't care.... I hope you had an awesome f*cking Mother's Day.
Carhartt got me red roses and took me out for dinner..... swoon. :)

The kids asked La Novia to draw me a beautiful Mother's Day card with they signed inside.... and she did.

Yup... you read that right:  La Novia made the Mother's Day card my children gave me.
.... and I love it.  

I *love* that the children feel confident and *comfortable* enough in ALL our connected relationships  that they can ASK La Novia to draw my mother's day card.  There is so much personal and collective success in that statement.  I'm incredibly proud of that card and allllllll that it represents for me.

I took the kids to the jewelry store and The Girl picked out earrings for La Novia for Mother's Day.... which The Girl was very excited to give her.

One year....... it's been one year.

I think that, in spite of wether or not I'm educated or vulgar or.... whatever:  I'm doing something right.
At least.... I'm doing things right for *my* family.

And.... to that end, there are a thousand ways to get this wrong - so if I'm willing to be open enough and brave enough to share this journey because people say it helps them.... then I will do it.
But I can only do it as *me* - and this is me.... f*cks and all. :)

Happy F*cking Mother's Day!!!!!
I hope yours was as awesome as mine! :)

Carhartt took this picture of the kids over the weekend:  my little photo bombers.  We were trying to get a picture of just us..... but the kids kept running behind us and popping up..... 

Today I got the following blog comment:

Wow.  You go away to the beach for a few days, have spotty reception and limited internet (ok.... the house *had* wifi - but I really just wanted to spend time with the people I was there with....) but we get home today and my facebook feed is flooded with the new of Amanda Berry and the other women in the house in Cleveland.

As a woman, the first thing I think about is what kind of awful, horrible sexual things those women were subjected too.... let's face it:  people don't kidnap woman because they want to sit up late night play Farkle and discussing their feelings.
Sigh.

Secondly, I was immediately grateful they were found - and instantly said a small prayer that Desiree Horman, Kyron Horman's Mother, might one day get a similar call... that he is still alive.

So coming home I started looking up all the youtube's and videos and stories about what had happened.  Naturally everyone on facebook is talking about Charles Ramsey - the African American neighbor who saw Amanda Berry pleading for help and so he helped her get the bottom of the front door open enough for her and a small child (assumed to be hers) - out of the house.

Once you find his story, you find lots and lots of others - many neighbors telling stories of seeing women in "dog chains", naked and being beaten in the back yard (once by a young woman and a younger child and another time by three older ladies).  It's stated that several neighbors *saw* these things, called the police and nothing ever happened......

One man keenly points out that the cops will break down the doors of a home for $5 of drugs - but not for a human life......
Double sigh.

When I was a kid, living in Seattle, my Mom started the "Helping Hand" in our neighborhood.  Her and some other Moms made large wood signs that were painted black with large red hand prints painted on them.  Throughout the neighborhood, various houses who agreed, would put them up in their front windows.  We were all taught that if *anyone* bothered us, or a car was suspicious  that *these* homes - The Red Hand Homes - were "safe".  We could go to them and they would open their doors, no questions asked and that they could be trusted to help us.  (I'm sure there was a larger movement for these Red Hand things.... I doubt The Bubbie came up with it on her own... though- we all know how good she is at making signs. lol)

Anyhow... these days - would anyone really do that?  
Aren't we all too afraid of being sued or something?
I only ask... because it doesn't seem like anyone is doing it - and since *more* kids go missing now than in the 80s.... wouldn't it be a good thing to bring back?

But... you know what - we won't.  

We won't because not enough of us will step the f*ck up and be *willing* to take responsibility for someone else's child.  We don't want to 'poke our nose in'.  We don't want to get caught up in someone else's drama.  We just want to keep walking...... 

Aside from that - I think that the saddest part of it all is the part that the media and facebook are heralding as the most amusing, which is Charles Ramsey's account of the rescue.  His plain, step-by-step explanation - both humorous and humble - is getting him tons of air time.  He's very amusing, has great timing and .... thankfully - was the kind of person to step up and help Amanda Berry instead of stay on his own porch.

What he say's at the *end* of this particular interview *is* super funny for sure.... but it also makes me incredibly sad.  The idea that "white women" wouldn't run to a black man's arms unless they were "homeless or got problems' is a tragic one.

For one.... at some point, this man's personal experience has lead him to conclusion.  Which, if you ask me, is heartbreaking.  It reminds me of reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X where he recounts, in spite of getting good grades and being a solid and promising student - he's informed in the 8th grade that if was a really good negro that he *might* be lucky enough to become a Janitor - because, at the time - *that* was a good job for any African American.
This moment was crushing for Malcolm and was the first time he realized that there was a glass ceiling for him and he might never achieve more than what would be "allowed" - not what he could actually do or earn.

As the years have gone by - I hopefully believed that these sentiments were a thing of the past - I mean we *have* an African American for President... things *have* to be better - right?
Clearly not.

I'll be honest, I didn't vote for Obama.  I think most of them are giant lying bags of douche.... Sorry... but I do:  on *both* sides of the aisle.  However..... I have always been one to support democracy and as such, I have supported whoever the President is and chosen to work on making the changes I want to see in the world in my own home and community.  It's silly to think *one* person so disconnected from the rest of us can *really* make change .... ever:  if at all.  That's a big machine they are pushing against.

However, Charles Ramsey appears to be around the same age/generation at President Obama - and is it curious to anyone else that one man thinks white women have to be homeless or with problems to run into a black mans' arms for help.... while the *other* man is an actual instrument of change for men and women of all colors in this country?

Raised, within the same borders - how can each of them see themselves and their own race so differently?  Have we not advanced past this *just* a little?
Clearly... for some of us, the answer is no.... and that's not good enough for me.

It's a blessing that the countless ways and times those women tried to get someone - *anyone's* attention - failed and failed miserably..... and yet, one day - this man, homeless and eating his McDonalds - he see's them and doesn't hesitate to help.

He didn't see color - he saw someone who needed to get out of their house - and he helped.
Plain and simple.  

I'm grateful that, to that end, my children are completely and totally: stupid.
They honestly think Whoopi Goldberg *is* God..... because I have let them.  I have not disturbed their idea that *anyone* - be an African American woman with dread locks - can be God.

It's much more than a political statement - what my children have in them, is that everyone has value - and that they *should* be valued.  Too many children are taught that black people or gay people or homeless people or whateverthehellthatthreatensyoursenseoff*ckingsecurity people - are "bad" and shouldn't be trusted - even in your time of need.  
At that that's the message that society (or whoever) has left Charles Ramsey with about himself.
That makes me incredibly sad for him - and for the rest of us.

How many other 'Charles Ramsey's' in the world *haven't* stepped up simply because they didn't think anyone wanted them to - or would trust them?  

We have to start trusting each other just a little more and teaching our children to trust as well.  We have to *stop* teaching RACE or gender or sexuality.... and just start teaching GOODNESS, humanity and kindness.  

I don't think Mr. Ramsey is remarkable because of how the media describes him over and over "homeless black man" - when I see him, I see a very down-home, no none-sense person who saw another human's fear and helped them.  Plain and simple.

More than that - I hope that Mr. Ramsey see's himself as the hero he is.  I noticed, in other stories, the Sheriff was quick to take away the "glory" and put out a statement saying that Amanda was "the real hero" here because she tried to get help.... oddly enough though- all three girls had tried before and all the police did was respond to calls from neighbors, knock on the door and walk away..... 

It took Charles Ramsey to see her cries for help and to help her.... I'd say that's pretty heroic.

Sorry for the delayed post today - we took the kids to the coast for a four day trip.... and I'm stuck using a really old laptop that's missing the 'e' key and the 'r' key....

Needless to say... the grammar polic will love this entry.

Traveling with kids is always a challenge - traveling with kids and someone who didn't raise them is challenging in a different way.

I'm sure it's the same for any single parent in my shoes.  When you *have* children with someone, you kind of 'grow up' together.  In the begining you're too tired trying to figure out how to breast feed, change diapers (and really - which ones are better - Huggies or Pampers? and then by kids #2, you're all "Sweet these Target knock offs are half the price!) ..... and clean your house and go back to work....... you kind of just fall into a way of doing things that probably isn't the best way - but it's the way that works just enough to make life sane.

When you add a new person to the mix, it's a bit of a shock to the parenting system.  I knew it would be - both as a Mom dealing with another woman in my role in thier Dad's house - and having someone knew in my life.  Even still - questions like.... "Why do you do XXXXXX......." - though just innocently asked - make you stop and wonder - why *do* I do that?  lol

To be honest.... sometimes the answer is well thought out and based on either experience or something I read in a Dr. Sears book.... and to be frank, sometimes the answer is: "F*ck if I know.". lolol
(BTW.... one "new" blog reader commented that I must be angry because I curse all the time and say f*ck a lot..... no sh*t, lady.  lololol.  I'm not mad... I'm fairly well-read and well-educated, and *happy* - but this Mommy has a potty mouth.... that is all.)

Anyhow -Carhartt is doing great with the kids. Luke, of course is a HUGE hit.  The kids have run that dog into a nap more than once..... this morning I asked Carhartt what we should do today and their reply was, "I don't know, but where ever we go - let's make the kids run behind the car the whole way there."  lol
I thought to myself, but didn't dare say it outloud (don't want to go running anyone off) - 'wait until we hit their sullen, angry teenage years - we'll be missing this joyful and careful free time with them.'

The house belongs to a client of mine - it sleeps ten people with rooms for everyone (yes... everyone has their own room..... hahaha).  The view is gorgeous, only a short walk to the beach and there is a park and playstructure in the community.  The kids are in heaven.

Yesterday the kids and I went down to the beach with our sand toys, umbrella, blanket and beach bag complete with a packed brunch - we I just sat and watched them run in the waves and chase each other around.

It's hard to believe how much life has changed in one year.  Sometimes it's hard for me to wrap my brain around everything we've been through and where we are at now.  I'm incredibly grateful that the kids are doing so well inspite of it all.....

Of course, like any well-planned event, the wind kicked up super strong just about the time that we were unwrapping our sandwhiches and suddenly we were all eating a little bit of the Oregon Coast with our PB&J.  I waited for the kids to reject their now gritty sandwiches when The Boy said, "Oh..... wow - there sand in my 'sand'which.... Mom!!!!"  They broke out into giggles thinking this was hilarious and to my surprise, they both finished their sandy lunches without complaining.  (Which was a good thing too, because in my Martha Stewart mind - I was doing to be a freakin' pissed if my heart felt like went the way of the sea gulls because of some wind! lol)

But.... there we sat, sunscreen to the hilt, sandy sandwhiches in our bellies and the kids running in the waves and I felt very very grateful that while I know there will still be hard days ahead for each of us - there will be sunny ones, too......

Sigh.

If you've been reading the blog, then you'll know just how technology challenged in the dating world I am.... first there was me confessing my "undying love" for Coffee Guy (meant for my BFF of 15 years....) and then there's the whole giving Carhartt a hookers phone number instead of mine....
sigh.

It's almost too embarrassing to type, to be honest.
lol

I have to say that I *much* prefer the days of old when someone passed you a mix-tape in the hall.  Those were the best... and suffice to say:  I still have a few of them, though I don't know how I'd play them now.

I also have a shoebox of love notes - old and tattered and starting to tear where they have been folded for years - a selection of notes from all the boys of note from my high school years.  In that same box are several of my corsages from different dances and some awkward looking photos where I'm pretty thin, kinda pretty and wearing the ugliest dress known to man which is *far* too fancy for the pimple faced/sweater & Khaki wearing boy standing next to me. lol

The coolest thing about notes and mix-tapes though... was that they GO AWAY.  hahaha.  When you're done with that relationship you can throw it away and it's like it never happened..... 

But not today.
sigh.

Going into "dating", I was keenly aware that I have absolutely NO privacy.  I can't meet someone down the road and say.... "Oh, my divorce was no big deal.....".  I don't get the chance to play it all off like it was nothing..... after all - not too many people wind up talking about their divorce on National f*cking television.
sigh.

Every ounce of my pain is here on this blog.  Typed through tears and anger and frustration.  Every action, every deed is recorded here for everyone to see..... then, now and in the future.  That's a bit daunting, to be totally honest.

I wrote this The Blog - and The Book for that matter - in real time.  That makes it all very *real*.  I have sat down every night - Sunday thru Thursday - just after midnight and poured my heart, my life and my emotions onto this keyboard.  I never proof read (clearly... right? lol) - I just write and hit publish and go to bed.

This is raw and real and as 'true' as I can make it.
Which is good - I have an accountability to my friends and my kids to be honest.
However.... having put alllll of this out there - it's easy for someone new you're dating to find it.

Ouch.

In the first place, they might read all this and decide I'm bat sh*t crazy and run for the hills.... but, I decided that anyone who would leave me for that reason isn't someone I'd want to date for the mere fact that this *is* me.... and if they don't like that, well, it doesn't really matter if it's online or not... it's still me.

However, I never considered what it would be like to read and *see* the love I once had for El Capitan - or how it would be to read through all the pain I went through.... I mean:  that's a f*ck ton of pain.  I never thought about it until it happened to me.

See.... damn facebook.  Sigh.

There we were moving along - dating... Carhartt and me.  And things were going great (still are for the record....) - and then we became facebook friends and suddenly I was *keenly* aware of Carhartt and a collection of very pretty girls having dated..... damn mobile uploads.
Seriously?!?!? lol

Years of happy posts litter their wall...." So-and-so I can't wait to see you....!"

Oh yes... yes you *can* wait motherf*cker and please stop flirting with *my* Carhartt even though this post is dated March of 2009.... go away.  I don't want to see you!!!!!! lol

Ok.  Now I don't just look bat sh*t crazy... now I'm like boil a bunny on your stove crazy.
Fine.  I can own it.

My point is - people are *constantly* saying to me, "Doesn't it bother that your whole life is online.....?"  - ummm.... YOURS probably is, too. When you and your current squeeze break-up - facebook and twitter and instagram are *all* going to be there like headstones in a relationship graveyard:  markers on the timeline of your life of what was...... and there's f*ck all you can do about it.

Carhartt and I actually had to have a bit of a conversation about this because while I *knew* having my entire life online would be a challenge.... being *faced* with the cyber love of Carhartts past.... I'm not gonna' lie:  that really sucked.  I can only imagine how much more this sucks for them.
Sigh.

Of course, while I'm being slightly jealous of a past that went awry (silly, silly girl....) - I was nervous about asking Carhartt how they felt.  I mean - that first chapter of The Book is pretty intense... like I literally put every ounce of emotion and love I had for El Capitan in that chapter (and then I left if there, incidentally) but Carhartt just replied that they knew I was married before and they assumed that I had loved him very much and that that didn't bother them.

Okay...... 

Then after we chatted about what I found on their facebook page..... they spent an entire night reading back over my wall for the last several years.... which I think I read somewhere that the sign of an "unhealthy" relationship is when you facebook stalk the other person....?  But how can you NOT?!?!?!?!  I know I can't help but torture myself by looking through a slideshow of hot dates and pretty girls from the past.... but you would think after a book and a blog - one wouldn't need to read over my facebook wall.

But they did..... and I nervously asked what they thought about it all.... because I *didn't* see it coming, I thought my marriage was fairly happy and *I* was happy..... thousands of status updates showing a happy mother of two who was happily married.... isn't that hard to look at?  Does that change things now?

Nope...... Carhartt said that all they saw was someone who makes the best of things and tried really really hard to have a happy marriage.... and that's something they like about me.

So now at this point I've hatched a plan to wait until Carhartt falls asleep watching a movie and start checking them over for bolts and metal plates because at this point I'm starting to think that Carhartt isn't real... can't possibly be 'human'.... surely someone this great - this thoughtful - this.... level headed:  they *must* be a robot.  Right?  I'm not crazy...... I swear, I'm not.

Oh... and talking to a friend about all this (who promptly scolded me for being crazy... lol) - they brought up, with serious concern, that Carhartt might a stalker?  Like - may be they were following the story and read all about me online, etc - and that's why they are so "perfect":  that they are just pretending.   However.... I contacted Carhartt.  They didn't approach me and it wasn't until *after* I told them about The Blog that they even knew the whole thing existed.  So.... now I'm back to being pretty sure that Carhartt is a robot.

Mind you..... do I care?  Not at all, to be honest.... not at all.

Having said that..... what I wouldn't give for a past that I could fold up and put in a shoebox, only letting out the parts I wanted someone else to read.  What I wouldn't give for a mix-tape and the ability to throw it all away and start over fresh........