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Marie Antionette's Blog

A moment in the life of being an embarassing step-parent:

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(In the holiday food aisle while grocery shopping) "Hey SS, can you do something for me?"
Pre-teen boy: "Yeah. . . ?"
"See that tin of Turtles there?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you open those up so they dont suffocate?"
~boy reaches for tin. . .pauses. . . glares sullenly so as to cover the giggle~

By the way,

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May I just say you ladies are so freeking addictive, I shouldve been up and cleaning an hour ago. Thanks for being the same old step-talk I know and love!!

Who am I and what have I done with my me?

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So, I promise to eventually reply to all the supportive and open comments I got on my first string here, describe the wonderful experiences Ive had since then, the new ring around my finger, how he put it there, all the happy gooey etc., but at the moment Im just miserable and need some of the immediate services this blog provides. With or without responses, this forum has saved much emotional strife and has significantly reduced my therapy costs!

quick question for anybody, nothing subject-related, or even deserving a response,

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So, Ive seen a couple posts now where members have mentioned they have either experienced or witnessed negative interactions between other members. Im curious, Im not out here as much as Id like, but everything Ive seen is typically supportive, pleasantly snarky-funny, formless (just saying something to say something, which I greatly appreciate!!!), intuitive, experienced, wise, etc. Ive gotten nothing but friendly or helpful responses from everybody so far, and (as far as I know) I havent cheezed anybody off. Am I miss-reading? Am I just not in the cool kid club yet? Totally knew it.

Dark and Sticky Monsters

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So, on this week before Halloween, and after a weekend of particular inspiration, I have decided to peel back the latex, unzip the sternum and pull out the awful, nasty, sinister, selfish, wicked little me-monster that was wailing for attention today. I tried to keep it from getting to the keyboard, gave it a book, a hot shower, and a vodka soda, but its insatiable. (CRREEEAAaaaaak) Fly my pretty, Fly!!!

Wheres my cake. . .

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So another day goes by, another moment of head-spinning frustration happens, and Im left in the bathroom looking for something to break.
What to do. . .
I finally decided that not only is this unhealthy, but there has to be other unhealthy people out there like me, right? At least some place besides a dog eared journal or word doc where I can slap out my frustrations and then walk away with less sore emotions and more sore fingertips, and hope that the way I feel about all this is actually human.