Ah The Domestic Life

I am slowly settling in to my domestic routine. I would say that it could soon become a rut, but I'm enjoying it immensely. Having lived on my own for the last 10 years it is nice to have a boy around the house to kill things for me and clean up the gross stuff (with 2 cats and 2 dogs, there is a plethora of gross stuff).

Last night I was sitting quietly, minding my own business, when I heard bangs in the kitchen. Well, me being me, and being conditioned to ignore anything that doesn't catch the place on fire, and with 2 cats and 2 dogs random bangs are the norm - I ignored it. A few minutes later I notice Oreo (the cat) out of the corner of my eye playing with something. I assumed he had discovered a long lost toy and continued minding my own business. Until that toy seemed to be awfully energetic. Still, even through that, the thought crossed my mind that JC owned a cat toy that moved a lot, and still minded my own business and watched Intervention (YO JESS!). Anyhoo.... the energetic cat toy finally caught my full attention when it leaped about 2 feet in the air with Oreo fast behind it. My attention was diverted from the train wreck I was watching on the television to the rodent tragedy about to unfold in my living room. I casually mentioned to JC that Oreo had discovered a mouse. His response was, "Oh yeah?" He was more interested in what he was working on as well.

I watched as Oreo chased the mouse in to where JC sat at his computer. I then lost sight of the action so I continued to watch the addicted on the television. It was then that I heard JC cheering Oreo on.. "CATCH IT OREO!"

Oreo caught it.

JC then casually wandered through the living room, carrying a cat, who was carrying a mouse in his mouth. Oreo had a smug expression on his face, JC was telling Oreo what a good kitty he was as he tossed him out the back door to play with his new friend.

At that moment I loved having cats in the house.

Until I stepped on a coughed up hairball whilst I walked through the dark house.

It was an action packed night.

The End

I'm Famous!

My blog has been linked in an Iowa Newspaper about controversial toys. I did that post two years ago and it has taken this long for anyone to notice, but I'll take what I can get.

The only question I have now is - Aren't there only about 8 people living in Iowa?

In any case, its about time I get the recognition I deserve. hehe

Midnight Conversations

Setting the scene: Me... snoozing. JC, watching tv.

JC: I see how it is, you don't even kiss me goodnight anymore.

Me: If you want a kiss you are perfectly welcome to give me one.

JC: No, no, I see how things are now. Its okay.

Me: Let's think about this for a minute, shall we?

JC: WAIT! (sitting up in the bed)

Me: What??

JC: Trying to remember where I put the fire extinguisher.

Me: (just confused)

JC: Or water.. water will work.

Me: (still confused)

JC: You thinking will probably cause a fire.

Me: (punching him in the arm)

JC: Yeah a glass of water will probably work.

Me: (getting annoyed)

JC: Of course it will be a SMALL fire.

Me: (attempting to push him out of the bed but overcome with a fit of the giggles)

I get no respect around here.

Intervention

JC is in need of an intervention.

He has a problem that I cannot grasp, one that I cannot seem to figure a way around. I told him this morning it is becoming a problem and he just looked at me as if I were insane.

Something must be done.

The man is addicted... yes ADDICTED.. to the snooze button on his alarm. He has two alarms set and both are within reaching distance for him. He hits the snooze button on both over and over until I finally go in there and ask him politely to stop hitting the snooze buttons and get up like normal people do.

I wonder if there are any snooze button rehab centers near here.

And They're Off!

What an exciting day at the job interview race!

First up is government contractor, second slot is taken up by law firm receptionist, and third in the race is masting/rigging company assistant.

Racing fans the world over are on the edge of their seats to see who will win this one -

Government contractor is in the lead... this one started off with a few disadvantages, such as a finance position which to most newbies sounds like an incredibly boring job but if the price is right then boredom can definitely be tolerated and this entry has the most potential to come out on top.

Second up is the law firm receptionist position... which unfortunately was doomed from the get go. Low pay and having to answer the phone all day does not sound like the job to have at the moment, although if the offer is good and it carries good benefits in the saddle then it could overcome its obstacles and come out the winner.

Last up is masting/rigging company assistant. This one has virtually no chance of winning and this announcer has no idea why it is even entered in the race, but one never knows, does one. This announcer has seen entries with worse odds than this one come out in first place.

Updates will be provided as they become available. Place your bets folks, before the starting bell rings.

Yeah Okay.... One More

This is our new President. You can't look at this picture without feeling a rush of pride at how far our country has come. Some say that the color of his skin isn't an issue, and on most points they are correct, but would this have happened 50 years ago? 20 years? Even 10 years ago? I think not.

I was never really an Obama supporter (nor a McCain one, for that matter), but he sure is one photogenic guy.

Here's to holding out high hopes that he can make this country a better place.


P.S.: When I was out and about with the Handsome J.C. last night, I was struck with the realization that I now live only 25 or so miles from the White House. WEIRD.

The Only Thing I Have To Say

Alrighty then. We have the president everyone expected we would have. I have to admit that he is a handsome, charismatic guy. Hopefully that will carry him through the tough times because, to be honest, I'm not sure he has any substance beyond that.

I sincerely hope that things aren't going to be as bad with him as some have predicted.

And just for the record, this post would be exactly the same if McCain had won. Well okay, the handsome part might have been reworded. Politics (and politicians) suck.

OMGWTFLOL

I wouldn't quite say that this is the life of a married woman because 1) I'm not married, and 2) I'm still happy. I will say, however, that living with the Handsome JC is providing a plethora of blog fodder (for the moment). This morning as he was getting ready for work I was lamenting (okay whining) about the fact that I don't have a job to go to and it was driving me crazy to be just sitting here. He stopped, looked at me, and said:

Level your toon in the game.

I don't mention it much here because it sounds so geeky, but he and I play World of Warcraft. I like it, its fun, but he LOVES it. What amazed me about that statement is that he did not ask me to do the dishes, do the laundry, mop the floor, or any of the other thousand things I could be doing around the house. Instead he tells me I should be playing a video game all day.

I think I've died and gone to Christmas morning. They have puppies here.

The Job Search So Far

I have put the hilarious Jess as a reference on a few job applications. She emailed me that she had already gotten a request for a reference, and sent me what she told them:

I have worked closely with Debbie for over two years. She was always eager and willing to help. After her sex change her confidence level went through the roof and she and I spoke of a long term relationship and having a family. We were going to adopt 3 Ethiopian kids and 2 of mixed race.

Of course you know that will get me a job. Confident transgender lesbian with a heart of gold. Who wouldn't hire that??

;-)

Adjustments

I am now settled (me and all my boxes) in the hotbed of sin with the love of my life. Living on a day to day basis with someone is... shall we say..... interesting. I have been here less than a week and have already washed all his dirty underwear and socks. That is something you don't really contemplate, washing someone's underwear and socks. You get a better understanding of that person. Handling someone else's dirty underwear is on a whole different level than is spending the night with them and having them handle their own dirty raiments.

Another thing I wasn't contemplating is the fact that Jake, my trusty guard dog who hates all dog things, has decided that Maybe (JC's dog) is his bestest friend and he keeps sticking his nose in her ears. She handles such irrational behavior with as much grace as a dog can muster, she sits quietly, with her front legs crossed (the dog crosses her front legs, its so stinking cute), and pretends that she is elsewhere, occasionally glancing at me with an expression that asks if he rode in on the short bus. Jake doesn't notice. Jake also likes Oreo the cat, but Oreo hasn't yet decided whether Jake is testing him to see if he tastes like chicken or if he is just being annoyingly friendly. Come to think of it, I haven't figured out which it is either.

Personal stuff. There are lots of personal things that I feel very funny about touching, much less being in the same room with them. I was putting my clothes in the closet last night and found a card to JC from a former wench. Obviously it wouldn't be right for me to read it, so I took it to him for him to decide what to do with it... although I have to confess I wanted to look SOOOOOO FUCKING BAD. But I didn't. He threw it away (good move).

Now I am about to send my resume out to yet more offices, in the hopes that someone will take pity on my plight and hire me. I don't really enjoy the retired life and I need to fund our Ireland trip somehow.

Changes. They can be good, right? RIGHT????

My tummy hurts.

Goodbye Savannah

I have officially left my job, which was much more difficult to do than I thought it would be. Acid Brother (some of you know why I call him this...but I guess most of you don't), a/k/a The Boss Dude, was the best boss EVER and I do not expect to find such a great boss again. I bawled like a fucking 2 year old when I went in to say goodbye. I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm a flake. Well okay, I'm pretty sure he was convinced I was a flake long ago, but that is beside the point. I will miss him something awful and will have to keep up our morning bullshit sessions on the phone for a while until I adjust to the change, I suppose.

On Friday I will be on to new things and a new chapter with the love of my life.

Oh. My. Gawd. I am so freaking terrified.

Mommy....


Next week when I get settled in at the new abode in the new state and start suffering from culture shock, I will try to resume regularly scheduled posting.

Oh... today is my birthday. Happy Birthday to me.

Oh The Humiliation

As some of you know, I am on Facebook. Mostly it is because my canuck family hang out there, but I have gotten accustomed to the convenience of sending one line messages to cousins and other relatives that I haven't laid eyes on in 20 years, as well as trashy bumper stickers to the strumpets that I work with.

Now, however, I have experienced a level of humiliation heretofore unknown to me and my family. I believe the rest of my family are still unaware of what is in store for them. I will not be able to cushion the blow, all I can do is duck and cover and wait for the fallout.

My family has never before known such trauma. This is what I discovered on Facebook.

Tanya is so excited to be going to see Celine Dion tonight!!!

My world will never be the same. I have a family member who..... no........ I can't even say it.

The New Normal

I used to be very interested in the art of politics. Until one day I woke up and realized it was more accurately an art of deception. Call it an epiphany if you like, but since that day I have paid as little attention to it as possible, to save wear and tear on my favorite ulcer.

But occasionally I will run across an article that sums up the way I feel about politics in a very articulate way. This is one of those articles.

Once upon a time, Americans were fond of looking upon backward nations, upon places where law was whatever the king said it was, and noting with pride that we do things differently in our country. But that was a day long ago and a country long gone.

I am impressed with the writing, but sad at the truths it contains.

This will be the only thing I have to say about current politics. Apologies for the lack of humor.

Down To The Wire

This is it. In one week I will be moving from the southern coast of Georgia (redneck country) to the scary hills of suburban Maryland (political pissant country). I am nervous about the big change, but happy to be moving in with the Handsome JC to live in utter sin (because I’m a whore - or something like that). I have only packed half of my apartment.. but just enough to do some damage. I was walking through yesterday and tripped on a box. Yes. Fell. On the floor. I lay there for a minute trying to assess the damage, when Jake, my trusty guard dog, came running up to check for injuries. He immediately stuck his nose in my ear and snuffed. I had no choice at that point. I started giggling.

Today I have a sore left knee, and twisted right ankle, and I have no idea which side to hobble on, but I think I will survive the ordeal. The receptionist and my boss, Acid Brother, both laughed at my misfortune and then both had the nerve to deny it.

Anyway, since I am unsure how much posting I will be able to do in the next week, I will post some Halloween hilarity.

First is Zombie Home, a website for Zombie Rights. Some of the comments really struck me:

"I just want people to know that there are plently of celebrities who are with us in this zombie cause. Here are some names: 1. Rob Zombie 2. Ozzy Osbourne 3. Marilyn Manson 4. The Undertaker 5. Tim Burton 6. Johnny Depp 7. Cher"

"I'm not even a zombie, I'm just really into Zombie sex... and I get discriminated against too!"

"I was walking down the street, having been a zombie for five years, and an old lady spat at me! So injust..."

Come on people! How can we just sit and pretend this travesty isn’t happening right under our noses?? Stand up and count yourself amongst the believers in Zombie Rights! Be strong! (And be able to run fast!)

And now...........



Turn up the sound for the REALLY REALLY scary part. I was horrified at what I heard!

(But the snails are kind of cute.)

That is all for now. I shall return soon.

Anger Management

When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know, but you know deserves it.

I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it.

A man answered, saying 'Hello.' I politely said, 'This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?' Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear 'Get the right f***ing number!' and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.

When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.

After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled 'You're an asshole!' and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer.

Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, 'You're an asshole!' It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, 'Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?' He yelled 'NO!' and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, 'That's because you're an asshole!' and hung up.

One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a 'For Sale ' sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had is number on speed dial), I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole, too. I said, 'Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?' He said, 'Yes, it is.' I asked, 'Can you tell me where I can see it?' He said, 'Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax. It's a yellow ranch, and the car's parked right out in front.' I asked, 'What's your name?' He said, 'My name is Don Hansen,' I asked, 'When's a good time to catch you, Don?' He said, 'I'm home every evening after five.' I said, 'Listen, Don, can I tell you something?' He said, 'Yes?' I said, 'Don, you're an asshole!' Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.

Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call.

Then I came up with an idea.

I called asshole #1. He said, 'Hello.' I said, 'You're an asshole!' (But I didn't hang up.) He asked, 'Are you still there?' I said, 'Yeah!' He screamed, 'Stop calling me,' I said, 'Make me,' He asked, 'Who are you?' I said, 'My name is Don Hansen.' He said, 'Yeah? Where do you live?'

I said, 'Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd , in Fairfax , a yellow ranch, I have a black Beamer parked in front.'

He said, 'I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers.'

I said, 'Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole,' and hung up.

Then I called Asshole #2. He said, 'Hello?' I said, 'Hello, asshole,' He yelled, 'If I ever find out who you are...'

I said, 'You'll what?'

He exclaimed, 'I'll kick your ass,'

I answered, 'Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now.'

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Oaktree Blvd, in Fairfax , and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Blvd. in Fairfax.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax . I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.

NOW I feel much better.

Anger management really does work

A New Dating Site To Try Out

Created by Mingle2.com (Dating for non-zombies)

If ever JC and I ever call it a day I am SO going there.

~*Update*~

The first testimonial, given via MSN Messenger:

Zombie Kat says: Hey I just met a Zombie

Deb says: YAYYYY.. on that dating site? lol

Zombie Kat says: uh huh

Zombie Kat says: thanks!

Deb says: I'm so happy for you. does he like the same things you do? brains, livers... ripping people's arms off and beating them with them?

Zombie Kat says: and a lot more to boot!

Deb says: when are you going to meet up?

Zombie Kat says: Oct. 31st

Zombie Kat says: at midnite

Deb says: good night for it

Zombie Kat says: i thought so

Deb says: although you can go out earlier and everyone would just think it is clever costuming

Deb says: you could probably grab some unsuspecting drunk in an alley for dinner

Zombie Kat says: wow...that's a great idea

Zombie Kat says: i knew i liked you!

Deb says: not enough to eat my brains tho.. right?

Deb says: you are taking too long to answer

Zombie Kat says: only if i really couldn't control the urge

Zombie Kat says: and as long as i'm taking my meds

Deb says: god we're weird

If anyone else meets their zombie soulmate through that site, I will be happy to post your testimonial as well. I only want my friends to be happy.

For All My UK Pals

To the imperialist British colonizers.

In the light of your indecision over joining a common European Currency, your dissatisfaction with the European Union, your bickering with European Governments and the fact that you already almost speak our language and refuse to speak any other European languages, you are to be annexed as a State of America. Your state code will be GB. Zip codes will be assigned to replace your old postal districts. The state capital will be Stratford-upon-Avon which is a lot prettier than London. Princess Diana will be declared a saint. You have already assimilated so much American culture that you are unlikely to notice the transition. To aid in the assimilation, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

1. Look up "aluminum" in any good American Dictionary. Check the spelling and pronunciation guide. We discovered it, we named it, you are mispronouncing it. Learn to live with it. You are, of course welcome to your idiosyncratic and illogical place-names such as Edinburgh, if you wanted it pronounced 'Eddinburra' you have spelled it that way in the first place. You will quit using words such as "fortnight". The correct term is "a two week period". You will learn words such as "credenza", "intern" and "chad".

2. There is no such thing as "UK English". UK English is the relic of a defunct colonialist power which attempted to impose British English linguistic superiority on a nation which has a higher number of English speakers.

3. Your film-makers should learn to distinguish the American and Canadian accents. American accents are not limited to redneck drawls or New York accents. Mainland Americans have more than enough accents to cope with in our own country, so all British dramas will now bear subtitles, especially those made in impenetrable dialects such as Scottish, Scouse or Geordie. To make life easier for mainland America, all British films and TV programs must use American vocabulary and accents; Scotch characters will wear plaid, Irish characters will have shamrocks on them, Welsh characters will not be used since we don't have Welsh Americans, and English characters will wear bowler hats and pinstripes.

4. The British film industry will no longer portray all Americans as cowboys, rednecks, trailer trash or Beverly Hills billionaires. Hollywood will continue to use "Mockney" and "Posh" British accents as this makes it easier for viewers to identify which characters are British. You can have Hugh Grant back. He's a lousy actor and we don't want him either. All British films will be made in Hollywood where the weather and scenery are better. Your film industry is already unable to make a halfway-decent film which doesn't contain a American in the starring role. All American characters should be 'good guys'.

5. You will learn your new national anthem "The Star Spangled Banner". It shall be sung every morning at kindergarten, high school, university and your places of work. Your Union Flag will be hung up any damn way we wish so stop bitching about it being upside down. If there was meant to be a right way up you should have made it simpler. All Union flags will be replaced by the Stars and Stripes over a 12 month period of time.

6. You should stop playing soccer and rugby. There is no need to have two games, one of which is confusingly like Football and one of which is called football but patently isn't real football. If it doesn't require 45 pounds of padding, it isn't football. You should also stop playing cricket. Americans can't understand the rules. If you insist on playing this game which is only played by former British colonies, you will introduce a simplified scoring system, timeouts, colored strips and cheerleaders to make it more interesting. Any match which takes longer than 90 minutes will be declared a draw.

7. In films, as in real life, we decide who the bad guys are. The bad guys are those guys who don't do as we tell them. They are also the guys who attract the biggest audiences into movie theaters. You will cease using the word "cinema". They are "movie theaters". The snippets of forthcoming films are not "trailers" they are "teasers".

8. November 5th is no longer a day for fireworks. July 4th is the appropriate fireworks festival. If you want a big fireworks party on November 5th, we will help you to blow up your Houses of Parliament. You won't be needing them any longer; Disneyland London will be situated there. Hunting with packs of dogs is also banned. Instead, you will go hunting with a pick-up truck, some six-packs of beer, two coonhounds and enough guns and ammo to equip a private militia. There is also no such activity as "caravanning". It is properly called "camping". The thing boy scouts do with tents and bedrolls is called "tenting".

9. Roundabouts will be banned. What is the point of turning left in order to turn right? They are confusing to Americans and are death traps. You will start driving on the right with immediate effect. Most of the world drives on the right already. You will be allowed to turn right on a red light if safe to do so though you must check local county legislation as this is not permitted in all areas.

10. Those things which you call chips are cholesterol-soaked abominations. You will start to eat fries - light fluffy potato in crisp coating. If you want to eat British-style fried potato sticks you will need a certificate from your doctor and good medical insurance. Beer is to be served cold. The warm, flat drink you call beer is properly termed 'ale' and the FDA have determined it to be unfit for human consumption. You will also learn the difference between crackers, cookies and biscuits to avoid causing unnecessary confusion to mainland Americans.

11. All inter-personal communications between family members, even if resident in the same house, must be through a lawyer. It is compulsory to sue somebody at least once per year - be inventive. It is compulsory to have therapy three times each week and to recover false memories of your childhood which allow you to sue your parents and/or your therapist. Therapy will take the place of speaking to family members. You will be given compulsory courses on how to become dysfunctional. Name your children after interesting medical conditions.

12. You will not have guns. In the eyes of Mainland Americans you are wayward children. Children are not permitted to play with firearms unless they have a legitimate reason to do so i.e. they plan to gun down the population of a small town (self-defense) or slaughter every living creature within a mile radius (hunting).

Thank you in advance for your expected co-operation.


(Yes I know, I stole this from an email that is going around everywhere, but I'm a busy girl dammit! I swear original posting will resume shortly. Maybe.)

A Major Award

This past Thursday I came home from work and had a voice mail from my apartment manager. I had won a major award. Well okay.. THEY called it the door prize, but I like to think of it as my major award.

Anyway, I went on Friday morning and picked it up, and it was a gift certificate to a restaurant I had never heard of called Beef O'Brady. (The receptionist at work said that sounded like the name of an Irish porn star.) Anyway, I picked it up and took it in to work and pulled it out of the envelope, and immediately noticed something odd about it.

Have a look. Its the story of my life.

Poker (a/k/a Get Shitfaced) Night

At our office we have been discussing having a girl's poker night at my place for the last year. It never came about until yesterday, when one of the gang said WHEN ARE WE DOING IT??? I said I have no furniture. Everyone else said who cares we're there to get play poker (get drunk), not admire your furniture... so it was settled. Girls poker night at my house on October 17. The really entertaining thing about it though was the emails that went flying around about it:

First one, from Jess: In honor of finally (getting rid of) Debbie’s departure to lands far, far away we are having a girls poker night at her house on Friday, October 17th . There will probably more drinking and less poker playing, but we will have this shin dig under the guise of poker night for the sake of not calling it "a bunch of chicks getting drunk night". Hope everyone can make it!!!

From me: HEYYYYY... that wasn't nice. Look behind you, I'm crying now.

From Jess again: She wasn't. She was giving me the one fingered salute

From me again: That was the Hawaiian Peace Sign. Geesh.

From Larking, receptionist/my replacement: Note: Furniture not included.

From me (again): Yes yes.. I have no furniture to sit on, but I do have my dining table and chairs (still), a fold up chair and 2 loungers. And lots of boxes. Hopefully someone will take pity on my plight and bring along a beach chair or two for temporary usage. Also, does anyone actually own a deck of cards or are we all going to gather around the computer and play computer poker?

From Frances (another reprobate): I do but not sure about them - they offend the light hearted

From Chris (another secretary): I don't know how to play poker, except for the scratch off ticket one -- it tells you on the back which hand is better so you know if you have won or not.

From me: Cool! Bring lots of money.. we'll teach you how to play. mwahahahahahahaaaa

From Jess: Beverly has come up with the fantastic idea of perhaps throwing this par-tay at her house...she claims to have furniture.

From Chris: I have been there and she really does have furniture.

From me: You mean people do actually own that stuff? Weird.

And it goes on and on. I'm really going to miss this place.

Self Destruct

I am sure everyone knows someone like this:

My son in law, whom has admittedly had some issues in his growing up years, is a very self destructive person. We have tried to pull him into the family and let him know that he is loved, etc., but for some reason every single time things start to look up for him and my daughter, he goes on a self destructive rampage. He just got a good job with full benefits. My daughter was just offered a job as a endo/scrub tech at a hospital near her. You would think that life would be sunny and rosy for him, but no.... he can't handle it and goes on a pill taking, screaming, pushing, bawling like a baby rampage. My daughter has been struggling to make a life for herself and their new baby and has weathered many obstacles to finish her schooling just so they can be independent and a family. She completed her schooling through a pregnancy, being hit head on by a drunk driver with no insurance, a broken back, and being broke beyond all belief. I'm very proud of her actually, to see her make it through all of that. He, however, just doesn't seem to get it. When he is straight (forward) and sober, he's a great guy and dotes on my daughter and his baby, but when he gets overwhelmed by too many changes, even the good ones - watch out.

What is it with some people who just can't accept the good things that come their way? Why do some people feel compelled to sabotage their life? Is there anything that can be done for them or are they lost causes?

I just don't know.