I hate it. I'm trowing up. Or atleast I feel like I could 98% of the time. I feel like I've been hit in the tummy with a baseball bat. *sigh* Ok, I know that no one wants to read that, but still. I wish I coould bring Sam inside to keep me company - he always makes me feel better. I think I might go steal Taz from the kitchen....on second thought no - I have a pile of dirty laundry on the floor and he'd mess it up looking for undies to chew to peices. I'm finding that if I concentrate on something really hard(like right now) I feel less puke-y. So, I'm going to ramble here for a little bit and then go check on my Myspace to see if anyone has left me messages/comments.....I think I might go ahead and respond to an e-mail that the sperm-doner(AKA Jeff....who still likes to call himself my "dad"....psssshhhh) sent me, oh, about wed. hehe. I don't care what any therapist says - you do NOT need a realationship with your biological father. You need a realationship with a father figure - as in my Dad, the man my Mom married almost 7 years ago. Hmp. I, along with anyone else who has met said sperm-doner, feel no need to go running back to his pompous, self rightous, arrogent, mean, hateful, idioticness. That's just how I feel - as do many of the people that attended CHURCH with him for years, and some of his blood-realated family(as in his own brother.) What I find so funny about the whole thing is that his brother/my uncle, his brothers wife/my aunt, 2 of his neices/my cuzions, his sister/my aunt, AND his mother/my Grandma have my personal cell phone number - none of them have given it out. I know because they told me he asked for it - his own mother played dumb and said she had called my mom to check up on me. Ha!
Sorry for my rant everyone. I know it is completely off topic for my subject line. But I feel better. =]
edited to fix grammer