Embrace the Bacongal, and what ever I'm itching to say !

I was a tomboy growing up. Loved playing outside, loved getting dirty, loved following my older brother around and whining and crying until he included me, or chased me away. Barbies were fun, but I had the Barbie Catamaran and RV, as well as taking them on expeditions to my various forts. But for whatever reason, I became, how should I say this, girly! Girly later in my childhood, probably 9 or 10. And inexplicably started carrying around my large antique bald doll named Diane. Diane was bald, I didn't make her bald, someone else did, before I owned her. So my mom put a baby bonnet on her and called it good. I wasn't embarrassed that I brought my doll with me at an age when most girls have stopped, but I'm not sure why it happened either. Most of my childhood I can remember always wanting and waiting to be older. In a hurry to be 8, in a big hurry to be 10, and quite excited when it became 1980 instead of 1979. So why I started to play with dolls instead is beyon

Anniversaries of my parents deaths are just too hard for me. I don't try and mark them, they sneak up on me like a painful joint. If I ignore them, than they take me by surprise, like a cough when you are trying not to cough. Yesterday, the 28th of September was the 22nd anniversary of my mom dying of brain cancer. And I miss her. I think I miss her more this year than last because my life now is happier, calmer, more centered. I have time to think about her, instead of the horrible swirly messy ride I was on for years. I know something. I know that if my mom had lived I never would have married Tim. I wouldn't have been that 18yr old traumatized that fell under the spell of a 38 yr old man, and I wouldn't have lost myself in the years of abuse. It's not her fault. But I know my life would be different now. So as I said, I took yesterday off.

My mom thought that she would beat the cancer. She thought that I believe until she go so ill that she couldn't think. This picture was taken March of 1987, she died September 28th of 1988. I know that she believed she was cured the summer of 1988. She had beat it. The cancer was gone. I remember June of 1988 I was in a student leadership conference and she helped me plan what I would do for my project. Mom got really sick in July. Crying out in pain the beginning of September. The end was actually very quick. Quick for us, but for her I'm sure it wasn't so quick for her. I do not know why she had to die. It's one of the questions I would like to ask Jesus. But I know that she was brave. I know that she was stong. And I know that my life is different because she is gone.

Chips and salsa would be their own food group. Typed as I am still enjoying the last bit of the lip sizzling tomatillo salsa. No person with butt or thigh dimples can ever wear white pants of any kind, I do not care what your profession is, no way hosay. If you cannot park you SS Enterprise sized SUV correctly you forfeit it. I should have a complete collection by the end of the day. All fortunes obtained from fortune cookies have to ad the words "In bed" after each line. You wouldn't be allowed a credit card without a note from your mother...regardless of your age And lastly for today, if you are on foodstamps you don't get junk food!

This was my family, before I was even born. It wasn't until after the death of both my parents that I realized fully that my parents had whole and complete lives long before my brother and I joined their lives. It's an odd thought, but I think if you asked most kids, they wouldn't really know what their parents lives were like before they were born. I only have a glimpse because after my Dad's death I went through all his records for over 30 years. Each year he would rubberband a big folder of receipts and letters and doctors notes all together and put them away. It's like a gift now, to be able to read them and see what they did, and how little they had monetarily, but how much they had together.

What are things you remember kids saying when you were young? I can remember lots. Don't spray it say it, said after someone spit all over you trying to tell you something, I'm sometimes accused of doing the same thing now, by Riddick, but he's a big fat liar... Big Fat Liar...what you call someone who either lied, or just said something you didn't like. Fatty Fatty two by four, couldn't get through the kitchen door...We used to sing it about kids..horrible but true. I was a chunk so I have no idea why I would go along with it, peer pressure, it sucks. What a Tard! Horrible mis-use of the work Retard, used to describe my brother, maybe accurate ;-)

Tarjeta: Target, the most wonderful store on the planet. Fluff: what some of you call "farting", when I do it, it's a "fluff", when Riddick does it, you need to leave Elephant: Honda Element The Ladies: Our hens Cloud factory: paper mill

Riddick is a very secure strong silent type person. When he has something to say, he says it, and he can be quite talkative when he is engaged with people he loves, or people he is comfortable with. I am not a very secure person. Nor silent. I start off shy, which defines alot of who I am, but once I am close to you, I will speak. But I am never secure. I do not what or how to be in any relationship and know, just know, that it's all ok and that I don't have to wonder. I wish that I did. I pray that I will someday. Riddick deserves that trust. So do my friends and new family. But I'm always nervous. Like the can in a room full of rocking chairs. I know that I wasn't always this way. I can remember as a small child being shy but secure in my life. Life's challenges and pain have made me this but that isn't a reason for me to accept it as who I am. Just once I want to lay in bed at night, or sit at a table in a restarant and not feel like I'm an out

I get accused often of overthinking things. Riddick says it, my neighbor says it, my friends say it, my co-workers say it. I can't help it. I am blessed, and cursed with a analytical mind that doesn't always want to shut down. Combine that with some very strong intuition and sometimes I know more than I want to know. I say intuition, but my buddy graybelle calls me psychic. I don't think that's true, she bases that on the fact that a few times I have told her who was calling her before the phone rang. I think they were just lucky guesses;-) I don't believe I am clairvoyant. I did not foresee my dad's death, nor any of my injuries. I did get a strong feeling I was going to get sick when I left for Honduras the last time in 2007, before I got Malaria. But yet again, I digress into other subjects. I, Bacongal, am an overthinker. All that know and love me, or for that matter, know and don't love me, must accept this fact. It is this gift that earns my

Look at Riddick's arms, I can crawl into them whenever I want.

All I want to know about his photo is why, I say why, do my gray hairs stick straight up. In the name of all that is holy and right, why do they have to be crazy lady hairs. Please note this was a self portrait, about 5 minutes after I got out of bed, while camping, no make-up and SOC (straight out of camera)

I wonder often what heaven will be like. Or better yet, what it is like for my loved ones that are already there. I want to know if my parents know eachother, if their souls are somehow connected or near eachother. I would hope so. I want them to have the comfort of eachother. But that brings up other points. When my step-mom Becky dies, will she not be joining my dad? They spent 15 years together and were happy and loved one another. I think heaven is where our souls go after they leave our bodies here on earth. But I don't necasarily think that it is just a brighter version of earth. The bible doesn't even say if we get bodies just like we had. What I think and believe heaven is, is the ultimiate safety and comfort of being with our father, and savior. And having the joy and comfort of rejoining all the people that have gone before us, where we live in harmony. That sounds like a mouthful coming from me. Someone who routinely falls into deep moods of doubt about

Me: Riddick, do not pop my toe R: What,but it's so fun Me: I swear if you pop my toe I'm gonna go kung foo panda all over R: oooooh I love it when you talk dirty Toe: POP!