Spread the love!

I'm looking at some of my recent blogs, both here and another site I write on and I'm noticing a trend that I am pretty disgusted with. Despite my intention to step away from the negative, I'm getting sucked right into it. I hate that. I've said before how hard it was for me to overcome that pessimistic nature in myself and here I am being sucked back into it.

So it stops here.

I've made some positive steps this week to clearing my conscience and doing the right thing. Others have been directly affected by that (and I thank you for that). For others of you, that clear conscience I have now may just be something you notice over time. Regardless, that's where we're headed.

I learned yesterday of the passing of yet another Blockhead at far-too-young an age. I didn't know Jamie Sutton, but as an extended part of this New Kid family, we're all affected and we all feel her loss, if for no other way than to realize that she's our age and that our certainty here on this planet isn't guaranteed.

I spent all last night and today making an effort to tell those I'm close to how much I love them and why. I'm healthy right now. I don't have cancer or heart disease, I'm not hiding some terminal diagnosis from anyone. It's just time that I stop waiting for things. People need to know how much I care about them and how much they're appreciated. When I started my love fest, it wasn't to see how many people loved me back. In fact, I was somewhat surprised when their love was returned so vocally. I did it simply because nobody needs to go through life wondering if they matter...wondering if they made an impact on someone. I was pleasantly surprised by receiving the same gift I was giving. Thank you for that.

I turned 36 last week. Yes, I said it, thirty-six. I've essentially wasted my life waiting for tomorrow. I've pushed off doing some amazing things while I wait for the planets to align or some such shit. NO MORE! It starts now.

I don't hold back my snark and sarcasm from the world, so I'm not going to hold back the positive parts of me either. I've got a heart filled with love and happiness that I plan on showing more. I've got talents and gifts that some people know nothing about. That's going to be shown, too.

What have you been putting off? Have you been procrastinating something important? Have you held back telling someone how you feel for fear of their reaction (or worse, their rejection)? STOP! Don't hold back. Not anymore. Life's too short.

Spread the love!

It's a simple concept, really.

I read what I want to read, watch what I want to watch, hear what I want to hear, follow who I want to follow.

Guess what?

YOU have the same right.

If someone in your timeline is annoying you, unfollow them. Don't announce to the world you're doing it. Just do it. Seriously. This isn't rocket science, people.

And for fuck's sake, quit complaining about the haters. The more attention you give them, the longer they're going to stay.

I don't like kids.

No, seriously. I don't like kids.

Okay, let me explain. I don't like most kids.

I love my own kids, of course. I like a few select other kids - T-Dawg, for instance. Mooch, too. They're well-behaved boys who treat me with respect. They're good friends to my children and for that, they get kudos. But over all, I'm not one of those people who loves the sound of children laughing or whose uterus explodes at the feel of a newborn in my arms. Do I love babies? Sure - quiet, freshly-diapered, recently-fed, peacefully sleeping ones.

I've tried for years to figure out what it is about kids that I dislike so much and I think it comes down to two things: noise and mess. There are, of course, certain levels of both that come with any kid. I realize that and have learned to tune out the normal "everyday" clatter and clutter of children. But excessively noisy, shrieking, yelling, stomping, running, screamy kids make me want to bake them in a pie. I don't have patience for it.

I also can't stand a mouthy child. The desire to pop a back-talking child in the mouth has overwhelmed me more than once and I've literally had to leave my cart in the middle of an aisle at the store and walk away for fear of beating the hell out of their parents for putting up with it. There's NO place for disrespect in my world. None. If your child back-talks you, then they're not showing you respect. It's not funny. It's not a phase. It's not okay. At all.

I have no problem with a disagreement as long as it's approached respectfully. My kids are more than entitled to their opinions, as am I. I don't frequently give in, because as a parent my job isn't to be my child's friend - it's to be their parent, but there are times when one of the kids has made valid points and I'll back down. I choose my battles with my children; I have to as a parent.

What I don't have to do, though, is accept that "kids are kids" and they get to act like heathens as a result. I've managed to raise two very polite, even-tempered (still not sure how that happened), generous and loving children. If I can do it, anybody can. So stop letting your kids tell you what to do. Be a fucking parent or I promise you, I will be.


(Disclaimer: I can tolerate most kids for small periods of time. I will not tell you how to raise your kids in your house, nor will I punish them if they're in mine. And I'll only bake them in a pie if they look especially ripe.)

Jealous and Bitter, party of one - Your table is ready

I come from a long-line of negative people. My people have a history of finding the cloud in the silver and turning the whole damn thing into a thunderstorm. I've never seen anything like it. Having been raised in a family like that, it swallowed me whole, too. It doesn't help that I'm mouthy and often speak first and think later. I spent years focusing only on the negative. If something good happened, I set it on a shelf and squatted down with my catcher's mitt waiting for the crap that was inevitably around the corner. I was rarely disappointed.

Why?

Because I brought it on myself. I expected shit and I got it. My 20's were full of great things - but never once did I appreciate it. Not. Once. I was too busy focusing on the wants instead of the haves. I surrounded myself with drama - from myself, from my friends, family, co-workers, neighbors - the list goes on. I thrived on the chaos and hatred that drama brought my life. If you can call it that, anyway. I wouldn't say I exactly I "thrived."

I don't remember what the catalyst was that made me open my eyes, but at some point in my thirties, I looked at my life and the people in it and realized that I didn't like any part of it. I literally cut out everything toxic in my life. I turned my back on friends and family I'd known all my life. I stopped returning emails and phone calls. I didn't make plans with people anymore. I shut myself off from the world so I could reevaluate where I was, where I wanted to be and who was "safe" enough to be there with me. It was the scariest thing I've ever done.

And it was the best thing I've ever done.

I started going to new places. I met new people. I was very cautious, of course. With my mouth and penchant for saying the wrong thing, I had to be careful who I let my guard down with. Sometimes I'd test people to see just how far they'd drag me. The minute I felt myself going under, I'd grab a life preserver and swim for shore (and promptly slam the door on any type of relationship with that person). The transition was much like I imagine the witness relocation program is: cutting out everything you know and replacing it with new. It's exactly what I did. 

Drastic? Probably. But I did what I felt I had to.

Over time, I realized that there were still a lot of people from my past that I was able to have healthy relationships with and I've rebuilt that with those people, but there are still some people (even family) that I keep at arm's length. The minute their lives become too chaotic for me, I step back. I've always been a fixer, so this aspect has been the toughest to break myself of. But now, several years later, it's become second nature to me.

I still have a mouth and my defensive nature. I'm also an explainer (hence this blog) because it's important (for some fucked up reason) to me that people understand my actions. I forget, of course that some people will never understand me no matter how much I talk things to death, but I digress. Sometimes, its easy to still get caught up in drama. Lord knows I've had my share. But I'm doing much better about bowing out when I see the boat starting to capsize. 

There are still people who want to see me fail. They want to see me miserable. Humiliated. Unhappy. This used to bother me greatly. In fact, my defensive nature would rear up and I would spend days/weeks/months trying to convince these people that I'm a good person and didn't deserve their hate. In the end though, I realized that I was the only one who needed convincing.

At the risk of sounding like Stuart Smalley, I really am a good person and people love me. Not everybody, of course (because let's face it, I am a snarky bitch.), but I'm surrounded by friends and people who do appreciate me.

So to those of you who want to see me cry - who want to see me get my dander up - who want to see me go off the deep end and get sucked under: thank you. You remind me that I'm doing something right. You're jealous. You're bitter. You're like I was. You remind me how far I've come. You remind me that I'm better than I once was. You fuel me to keep on keepin' on.

That being said, why are you the way you are? Do you find happiness in hating? Is your life more full by focusing on the negative in it? If you don't like someone or something, why bother keeping it around? Let go. Seriously. Just let it go.

I have. In fact, I unfollowed someone today whom I like very much. She's a darling person, but because she retweeted something from someone who was a VERY toxic part of my life a few months back, I cut her out. That is how serious I am about removing the negative. I may be perceived as the ostrich with my head in the sand, but the truth is, if I don't see it, then I don't know about it. People can talk shit all they want. They will anyway, so why bother myself with seeing it?

Do I still get pissed? Yup.

Do I still get defensive? Yup.

Do I still have my moments of negativity & depression? Yup.

But, I'll let you in on a little secret about me: I'm human. I make mistakes. I have real emotions. I hurt. I get mad. I get sad. I slam doors. I talk shit. But once I say my peace, I'm done. It's over. I move on. That doesn't mean, however, that I will let you back into my life. I may not hold a grudge, but you can damn well bet, I don't give second chances.

Some of you don't deserve to know the things about me that I've shared here, but many of you do. Take from it what you will.

The Dark Place

April 16, 1994

The drive to Kansas City from Des Moines felt like it took only a few minutes, but in reality, we left town at 3am, only to arrive at Memorial Hall around 7. We circled the arena and were hell bent on being able to meet our favorite band, New Kids on the Block. Having not been to a show in almost 3 years, we went off what we knew: the location and our determination.

When we arrived, there wasn't a soul to be found near this tiny venue. Having sold out stadiums & huge arenas, we were shocked at the size of this tiny auditorium, but encouraged that maybe it would just be more intimate....like an MTV-Unplugged show. We were a bit perplexed at the lack of equipment trucks and the absence of tour buses, but it was still early, afterall.

We decided to kill some time shopping and eventually made our way back to the arena around 4. Finally the trucks had arrived and had been setting up for some time it seemed. A few handfuls of girls waited around by the doors & on the front steps of the arena. There were a few girls talking to someone who I later found out was the choreographer for the tour. We talked to him for a few minutes ourselves. We wandered around a bit, hoping for a glimpse...some scrap of evidence that our boys were there, but other than seeing a women someone said was Danny's girlfriend, we didn't see much.

Hours went by and we finally filed into the auditorium. If you could even call it that. It was more like a converted high school gymnasium. There *may* have been 1,500 people there. We'd gotten the last seats for the show, which were in the VERY back row. We could literally sit on the back of our chairs and rest against the outer walls of the auditorium.

But we were THERE, dammit! We were seeing our boys in just a few minutes! I don't honestly remember who opened the show, or if anyone opened the show. We were too anxious to see the guys. Finally, the lights went down...and the curtain went up...

....oh my GOD!!!

We squealed and screamed and shouted and hollered with everyone else in the auditorium. We scrambled to find who was standing where so we could zero in on our favorite (at the time, we were both Jon girls). Mic stand! Mic stand! Mic stand! Mic stand! Mic st...wait. No...1, 2, 3, 4.....

Joey.

Danny.

Donnie.

Jordan.

What. The. F*ck?

We scanned again and again, finally looking at each other with tears in our eyes. Where the hell is Jon? We went from ecstatic to stoic in a split second. We slid from the backs of our chairs into them and sat there with our heads in our hands. What happened??

This isn't New Kids on the Block! There's only FOUR mic stands. There's FIVE members!

I couldn't tell you what was sung that night or what was said. I only remember what the guys looked like because it was what everybody wore those days: flannel. All I remember was the heartache of knowing that our boy band was missing a member. OUR member. Jordan finally explained later that Jon had fallen off his horse, Shakespeare, and was recovering. He was fine, but wasn't able to perform at that time.  We were crushed. I wish I could tell you that the show went on and it was wonderful, but I can't. It was horrible. The sound was bad, the songs were iffy, at best. But I can't tell you if that had more to do with the group or its missing member.

By 1994, Bop & Teen Beat weren't covering stories on New Kids anymore, so we hadn't heard a thing. Internet was still a thing of the future so we had no way of knowing what had happened or what was to come. We were totally in the dark, but we knew one thing. It would never be the same as what it was. We were twenty now and not only did this whole thing signify the end of our favorite group, we knew it closed the door on our youth. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

We drove home that night, depressed and heartbroken. For years, we blocked this out of our heads and tried to only remember when the group was at its best. I couldn't even listen to "Face the Music" because it was such a raw memory for me. To this day, I still refer to this as "The Dark Place."

Present Day

It's been over sixteen years since that door was closed. It's since been reopened, but as we head into the last concert of the "CasiNO TOUR" and words like "End" and "Finale" are repeated by more than one NK, we have no choice but to look at the future with fear. Are they done? Is this just a break? There's a cruise next year, but is that it?

My friends have laughed at me whenever a tour ends and I sit in a corner rocking back and forth repeating "No Dark Place!" like a mantra. They don't understand...I've been through this before. I know what the end feels like and I never want to be there again.

It's a bittersweet battle, though. As a friend pointed out, don't Barrett and the McIntyre boys deserve to have Joe at home with them full-time? Does Evelyn need to spend another six months as a single mom? Don't Danny's kids deserve to have their father at all their recitals and special events? Donnie's got the show coming up - is it fair to tear him in ten different directions? What about Jon & his real estate stuff? Don't they deserve to have their own lives? Of course they do. Are we being selfish? Yeah. Sadly, we are. But it doesn't make it hurt any less.

Bottom line is, I think we all know that at some point this will end. However, the hope is that we matter enough to them this time to be given some closure. I don't think a final "This journey has been amazing and we never thought it would go as well as it has, but we want to end things on top. Thank you for everything. we love you" is too much to ask for.

Closure. That's all I'm asking for.

That being said, if anybody needs me, I'll be in the corner rocking back and forth.

A vessel

I got a message tonight from someone I've become friends with over the last few months. Ours is a peculiar relationship that started online over a conversation regarding maribou slippers and stereotypes. It's built from there and never ceases to amaze me the twists and turns its taken. I never take one moment for granted, though and I cherish her more than she'll ever know.

Tonight, she sent me a message telling me that she just received a phone call about landing a job she'd applied for a few weeks back. She hadn't been aware this job was even available but I'd mentioned it to her a couple months back that I knew they'd be looking for someone to fill the position. She put her ear to the ground and sure enough, she nailed it. I'd forgotten all about it until I got the message from her tonight because she hadn't mentioned anything more about it. I told her to call me right away because I was dying to hear all the details.

When I hung up the phone, I just sat here shaking my head smiling. Its rare that I'm put in a position to be a vessel for something amazing. And this? This is pretty damned amazing. I can't wait to see how it all pans out for her.

Goodbye, I guess

I am an emotional person. Anyone who's read more than one of my tweets or blogs can testify to this. I also have a tendency sometimes to say the first thing that comes to mind and then scramble to fix the aftermath from the verbal bomb later. What you may not know, however, is that I'm loyal to my friends. I'm sharp-tongued, but I would never hurt someone intentionally.

So when my words do that, I need to be told. Sometimes I will stand by what I've said, but offer an explanation as to why. And sometimes I'm apologetic because I was completely unaware that I was hurtful.

But I can't do either of those things if I don't know what it is that I've done.

I recently lost a friend over something. Because she won't talk to me (or any mutual friends) about the situation, I'm left wondering why. I've tried talking to her. She won't discuss it. I thought if I gave her time to think about it and/or cool down that we could talk about it without emotion taking over. It's been two months now. I tried again this week to talk to her. She refuses.

So I'm letting go. I can't fix it. I've tried. The ball is in her court. She apparently doesn't want to play ball. Her choice and I respect that.

My issue now? Figuring out if I need to change who I am so I don't lose more friends or just remain who I am and hope for the best. I realize I can be perceived as a crusty bitch, but I have feelings and weaknesses and insecurities, too. This sucks.

Crazy like a fox

A few months ago, my friend CriSillyus wrote a blog about having spotted a fox and the symbolism of it. I read the blog when she first posted it and hadn't really put it entirely out of my mind, though I wasn't 100% certain what exact symbolism it was. She's more into the nature symbolism thing than I am. It's not that I don't believe in certain things like that, it's just not what I put a lot of thought into, but for whatever reason, this fox of hers never really went too far from my thoughts.

So she called me last night to tell me about what an amazing weekend she had. (She hadn't had times like these in a while - lots of internal turmoil/decision making - so I was excited to hear about it.) She was telling me about the great things that had happened and there it was.

Right in front of me, dashing across the road.

A silver fox.

I stopped her mid-sentence, remembering her blog from last November, to tell her about the fox.

She was speechless. I was too. I've had "weird" things happen before, but nothing like that. It was almost surreal. It's ironic, actually...the turmoil she's been dealing with has been figured out. Mine? Just beginning. That silver fox has a way of making its rounds.

Crazy...

This whole Twitter thing...

When I embarked on this whole Twitter thing a couple years ago, I wasn't too sure what to think of it. I mean, did I really need to know that my friend @callie (who lives in California) was meeting @bob @julie @kellie @jane and @kirk for dinner? And that they were having @sushi? And that they were waiting on @jack to join them? (*names changed to protect the guilty Twitterwhores)

Clearly, in the early days, my social circle was small. Thanks to @NKOTB joining Twitter, a whole lot of Blockheads also joined. I was up to a whopping 30 followers now! WOO! Most of these followers were close friends that I'd known already or had met through the New Kids' ning site. I hadn't really made any new friends because of Twitter. But I stuck around because it was the best way to hear from the guys in @NKOTB. I also kept up with some of my other favorite celebrities this way, too: @SherriEShepherd, @ScottGrimes and @altgeldshrugged (Jen Lancaster, my favorite author).

As my follower list slowly grew, I started becoming friends with more and more people. With a celebrity "endorsement" came a follower explosion and even more people who I've come to call friends. It's a rare day when I tweet something and someone doesn't say "oh, I know how you feel" or "You can do it" or "OMG, that shit's funny!" And let's face it, who doesn't love encouragement?!

So...as time goes on, I wanted to pause for a moment and say thank you. To those who have sent words of encouragement or humor, to those who know me personally and choose to follow my snarky ass anyway and to those who have far more important things to do than follow me but do it anyway....thank you so much.

The other day, I was having a total pity party and sent a tweet to someone asking them to "make me smile." And they did, by following me. I sent them a DM and said "Do U ever have days when U wonder if you really matter in the grand scheme of things? You don't have to wonder today. You just made my day." 


Some days I wonder if I really matter in the grand scheme of things, but I'm constantly reminded by you all that I do matter. Love me or hate me, I've come to realize that I've impacted many lives by what I ramble on about here....but please know that you've impacted my life, too. Thank you for that.


Special thanks goes to @altgeldshrugged, @donniewahlberg, @jenricechex, @jonathanrknight, @ProjectDance and @sherrieshepherd. You six crazy, nutty, completely lovable people will never know the depth of my appreciation for you. Much love!!!

Na-na-na-na-naaaaaa

I adore Jen Lancaster. She's my favorite author and she keeps me in stitches with her tweets. She posted a blog today - Scorsese Strikes Again in regards to a canine intelligence test. Apparently you can test how smart your dog is by putting a blanket or towel over his face and seeing how long it takes him to get out from under it. The longer it takes, the um, less smart he is.

If you check out her blog, you can see that her dogs Maisy & Loki took about 50 seconds or so to get out from under the blanket.

Possessing the competitive streak I do, I thought I'd test Lucky's (my black lab) intelligence levels against Loki & Maisy.

You can see the results here. ~ insert laughter here ~



And a personal message to Jen:

What it means...

Many have asked me what my tattoo is on the back of my neck. It's the letter "S" (some have thought it was some sort of symbol). It stands for many things - I'll detail them here:

Those who are important to me:

My children's names

My husband's last name (and mine, too of course)

Shaindy - a Hebrew name my friend Heine gave to me

My hobbies and passions:

Scrapbooking - I've done it for years and have spent so much time archiving my past and the past of those who've gone before me.

Shutterbugging - Always a passion and now my career

Singing - Music is paramount in my life. I love singing and while my voice will never win me a Grammy, it's nice to just cut loose once in a while

Story-teller - I love writing and reciting stories

Things to describe me: Sensitive, Sassy, Sentimental, Scarred, Sociable, Seductive, Sensible, Saucy, Sensual, Self-searching, Sexy, Snarky, Submissive, Spoiled, Smart, Survivor, Strong, Shy, Sympathetic, Sincere, Spontaneous, Supportive, Sweet, Scrumptious, Sanguine, Sultry...among others.

So...whatcha writin'?

I've buried myself to the hilt in writing a book.

And, of course, by "book," I mean this fictional monstrosity that won't die and absorbs every minute of my waking existence.

I've had many people ask me what I'm writing, what it's about, when will they get to read it, blah blah.

What's it about?: It's fan-fiction, though it extends well beyond that as the story progresses. Loosely, it's about a girl who meets up with an old flame almost a decade after they break up. They attempt to rekindle their romance, but there are complications and hurdles they must overcome. Overall, the book focuses on lost opportunities and how many of them the main character will be willing to endure before she finally does something about it.

When can I read it?: Unless I go through when I'm finished and REWRITE the entire thing replacing names and scenarios, I will never share it with a publishing company, much less get it into the hands of curious readers. As it's written right now, it's toward one very small audience. Outside that audience, no one would read it, as is.

Is it well-written? I've been told so by those who have read it.
Is it a good story? Again, I've been told so.
Am I happy with the storyline? Absolutely. However, I don't want to get anyone's hopes up that you'll actually get to read it.

I've compared this book to a practice pancake. You know what I mean: that first scoop of batter out of the batch that soaks up all the Pam in the skillet. It looks like hell, tastes even worse and nobody but the dog will eat it, but it seasons the pan for the rest of the pancakes. That's what this book is to me: my practice pancake.

That being said, I have been given some writing prompts recently by a friend of mine and the memoirs that really can (and hopefully will) be published will start to flow more freely.

Anyway...for those who've wondered where I've been, now ya know.

Honey, you're right!

Dear Hubby,
You're often telling me how great I am and that I don't give myself enough credit. You're right.

So tonight, I'm going to give myself credit where credit's due.

Today, I did the following:

1. Folded three baskets of clothes that were left on the washer.
2. Washed seven other loads of laundry and dried/folded/put them away.
3. Put away the clothes that were on the dresser.
4. Made the bed.
5. Vacuumed the bedroom, living room, hallway, office and what I could get to in Midget's room.
6. Washed and put away two loads of dishes.
7. Hand-washed what couldn't go in the dishwasher, dried & put away.
8. Got the grease stains out of your favorite shirt.
9. Wiped down the kitchen counters.
10. Swept the kitchen floor.
11. Scrubbed both bathrooms/toilets.
12. Dusted/Windexed the living room coffee table.
13. Took out four trashcans worth of garbage to the can.
14. Made dinner and cleaned up afterward.
15. Convinced Midget to do her homework and got her in the shower without argument.
16. Sat and watched a movie (a bad one, at that), spending quality time with my family.

AND I did all those things on less than 6 hours of sleep.

Tomorrow, I'm going to strut around here like I'm the most awesome fucking person on the planet. A parade isn't necessary, but a big fat thank you would be welcome.

Sincerely,
Your wife

You were loved.

Dear Jordan,
You'll probably never read this, but I hope as you go through life with your new family that you never forget that you are loved by your biological one. You will not be forgotten.

There were choices made by your parents that may have you question your worth as a person, but I hope you realize that you are loved. Loved beyond words. By all of us.

I regret not having stepped forward when your grandma asked me for help with your custody case. I can't say that my testimony would've made a difference, but at least I may not have felt as helpless as I do right now. I could rest, knowing that I'd done everything I could to keep you with our family.

I'm sorry that we won't celebrate birthdays and holidays with you. I'm sorry that you won't know the love that our family is capable of sharing. I pray someday you'll find some meaning to all that's happened to you in your young life. Until then, I wish you joy.

I trust that God has sent you on this particular path for a reason and that your foster/adoptive family will love you as much as we do...that they will give you all the things your parents couldn't have...that you will have a life that would've been otherwise impossible.

I love you, Baby J and I will miss you very much.

Love,
Your great-aunt Mel


(For those unfamiliar, my great-nephew Jordan was surrendered to the state by his mother when he was just a year old. Since then, my nephew and sister both have attempted to gain custody of him. Due to personal reasons I won't discuss here, the judge revoked parental rights to my nephew and in a decision today has also granted custody of my great-nephew to the state. This means that he will be placed up for adoption and will be adopted by his foster family. This decision hereby ends any familial rights any of us have to see him.)

Enough, already.

I'm not sure where to begin with this without it coming across as a target for further insults, but enough's enough. I'm at my breaking point and while I pride myself on having a great sense of humor, it's just no longer funny.

You've got your favorite actor or musical artist. You've got that supermodel you absolutely drool over. You may obsess about NASCAR or football. You might have a video gaming habit, complete with a headset, monster-sized monitor and your own online network of gamers. You may throw yourself into politics and comment about the President's last speech or what Hannity had to say on yesteday's radio show. You may be an animal lover and adopt lots of pets. You may be incredibly religious and involved with church activities. Regardless of what interests you, those interests are yours. They're something you're passionate about. I may not share your interest, but I don't push my feelings about your interests onto you. That would be rude. What you choose to do with your free time is up to you.

So tell me, then, why do you think it's okay to make fun of me for my love for New Kids on the Block?

I take care of my family, I pay my bills, my house is clean and no one is being neglected. I take interest in other things like reading, watching movies and television. I socialize with my friends. I don't force you to listen to their music or watch their videos. I don't drag you to their concerts or convince you that you have to like them in order to be my friend, so what's the fucking issue here?

Are you so insecure in yourself that you have to shit all over my fun? Really? That's pathetic.

In the last two years, I've had everything about my life, my hobbies, my travel and even my familial relationships questioned by those around me. They ask my husband how he feels about this 'whole New Kids thing.' They've even gone so far as to start rumors about the demise of my marriage because of 'this obsession.' Let me clarify something right now: It's not your business. If there's a problem between my husband and I, after ten years of marriage, I think we've figured out how to communicate with one another. We don't need your meddling or your 'good intentions' interfering with how we're handling a situation, whether it be 'this obsession' or anything else. I can't imagine if my husband had a gambling problem that you'd have the gaul to stick your nose into our marriage and question how we were handling it, so why do you think it's ok to do it here?

If you don't like what I say on my blogs, Facebook or Twitter, you're welcome to unfollow me. In fact, I'm asking you to. Who you decide to follow should be based on what you want to see. If what I say gets on your nerves, then you don't need to follow me. You're not going to hurt my feelings by unfollowing me. I'm a big girl. I can handle it. The same is true on my end. I follow people who lift my spirits and make me feel good about myself. If you're insulting me or teasing me all the time, that doesn't do either of those things. You will be cut. Same goes for being around me in person. I'm not going to rein in who I am and what I enjoy simply because you have a problem with it. That's your problem, not mine. Again, you're free not to hang out with me. I'm not going to be offended.

"Geez, Mel. When did you lose your sense of humor?" Actually, I haven't lost my sense of humor. What I've lost is patience. I'm tired of being made of. I'm tired of being the butt of your stupid jokes. I'm tired of defending myself constantly for things that bring me a lot of joy to an otherwise hum-drum life.

I've been a New Kids on the Block fan since I was fourteen years old. They brought me through some very, very difficult times in my life. I was teased mercilessly in school for liking them and I'm teased mercilessly now. And I'd like to think that I've been a good sport for twenty-two years, but I've reached my breaking point.

Shut up. Move on.

I won't be discussing this again.

***Oh, and just for the record if I hear the term "New Fags on the Block," "Old Men on the Block" or any derivative of those just once more, I will not hesitate to bitch slap you.