propoganda!

you may know that i don't like the word diet.  as one of my heros (and i'm not fucking kidding) richard simmons says, the first three letters of the word 'diet' are 'DIE'.  i prefer lifestyle change.  because a fad 'diet' is not sustainable; it's about making lifelong, sustainable changes to your life that will make you healthier.  the word 'diet' describes what foods you consider suitable to eat daily (fruit is part of a healthy diet).  it may refer to what a group of people eat (new yorkers eat a diet rich in pizza) or a recommended type of food (my diabetes means i should be on a low sugar diet).  diet is a noun; it describes WHAT you eat. people 'diet' as a verb; it describes HOW you limit yourself things because you don't think you're worthy to eat them, or you're too fat, or whatever.  think about a religious jew who doesn't eat pork - he's not ON a diet, that's just something that's not IN his diet.

it surprises some people that i love richard simmons.  i remember as a teen doing his 'sweatin' to the oldies' routines and honestly working up a sweat (and i wasn't even fat).  a lot of people my age just think he's a funny, gay, short-short wearing exercise freak.  but he's more than that.  richard simmons was a very in demand actor in italy in the 1960s.  he was in italy studying art and being fat, and was still very much in demand.  one day someone left him a note saying something like fat people die, and i don't want you to die.  that really struck richard and he 'went on a diet' - the wrong way.  he lost a fuckton of weight in a couple of months - over 100 pounds.  in A COUPLE OF MONTHS.  he did it by starving himself, overexercising, and using diet pills - and landed in the hospital.  it inspired richard to research nutrition and a proper diet (noun) and he returned to america, taking a job in a restaurant - witnessing firsthand how out of control portion sizes and poor diet (noun) choices were.

so what did he do?  he helped millions of people lose MILLIONS of pounds...  on the dr oz show in 2010, richard said that over his 35 year career in fitness/health, he estimated that he had helped people lose over 12 million pounds.  i bet it's more.  richard still does his fitness thang at his fitness center in beverly hills (where else?).  he leads motivational classes.  and i think richard simmons is ridiculously motivating.  he's so excited and cuddly.  all he wants to do is make you healthy.  i read a quote from richard once saying he didn't have many friends.  he felt he didn't have a lot to offer one person - he had a lot to offer a lot of people.  he has spread his love and motivation and support around the globe, just trying to make us all a little healthier.

i don't like when people talk bad about richard simmons.

it's his philosophy about diets that i really love.  i might tell people 'i'm on a diet' but only because it's easier for people to understand.  it's hard to say 'i'm in the midst of a lifestyle change'.  it sounds like i'm about to undergo gender reassignment surgery.  (i'm not.)  i'm not ON a diet.  i'm CHANGING my diet.  i'm redesigning a healthier DIET for me and my family (aka awesome husband @_antgas).  and what started that dietary change?  well, aside from the fact that i'm fat, my husband is in the best shape of his life, and that every january i try again?

'fat, sick, and nearly dead'.  that's what started this.  it's a documentary (available on netflix) about this guy who was... well, fat, sick, and nearly dead.  he had a rare autoimmune disorder and was on so many pills.  he decided that he was going to give his body what it needed to heal itself (short story) and he went on a 60 day juice fast - and lost so much weight.  AND was able to stop taking all of his medications.  he basically cured himself.

now a 60 day juice fast sounds ridiculous to me.  i like to chew things.  plus all that produce would just be ridiculously expensive, especially during winter in new york.  but @_antgas and i decided it was an excellent way to get our daily fruit and veg.  on a regular day, if i ate one serving of fruit and two servings of veggies, i was happy.  i don't have time/money/energy/stomach space to eat that much fruit and veg.  so we started juicing about 5 nights a week.  i learned i don't like kale.  i was reminded about how much i love fresh carrot juice.  and we started experimenting with ginger and different types of apples and what we could find in the reduced produce section at stop & shop.

but what really happened is we started watching other diet (noun and verb) documentaries on netflix.  ones like 'killer at large: why obesity is america's greatest threat', 'hungry for change', 'food matters', 'forks over knives', and 'vegucated'.  they're all great docs, but the two that really seemed to resonate with @_antgas and me were 'forks over knives' and 'vegucated'.  'forks over knives' talks about two doctors and a plant based diet.  and how it fixes EVERYTHING.  overgeneralization, i know.  but really, google it and 'the china study' and learn about how the instances of chronic illnesses and cancers skyrockets when meat and dairy are heavy in one's diet.  'vegucated' is about three new yorkers who accept a challenge to live a vegan lifestyle for six weeks with guidance from another vegan.  this movie may use a bit more visual scare tactics (how pigs are slaughtered, for instance) to promote veganism, but it still has some good animal rights information and health info from the three volunteers.

i have seen the PETA videos.  the ones where they hold rabbit's eyes open to test cosmetics in them and you hear the rabbits scream.  i've seen most of the 'meet your meat' video, but while i was in high school.  i remember being terribly saddened by them.... enough to ensure that my cosmetics were not tested on animals (that began my boycott of revlon and gillette) but not enough to stop enjoying the everliving fuck out of a steak.  for some reason, seeing this kind of stuff again at 32 years old and 271 pounds (already lost 14 since the new year), i was devastated.

and watching 'forks over knives' really affected @_antgas.  we're all taught how meat and dairy are good for us - hell, the government includes them in the myplate dietary guidelines (which replaced the pyramid).  our parents used to admonish us to 'drink your milk'.  but you know what?  we're the only mammal that continues drinking milk after infancy.  it's really like breastmilk - mammalian milk is meant to feed the young.  and we drink ANOTHER ANIMAL'S milk.  that's.... i mean, that's kind of strange, right?  a little strange.  like when that creepy uncle picks you up and it's awkward and a little inappropriate.  but the china study (discussed in 'forks over knives') followed the health of chinese people in 65 counties of china that ate a plant-based diet.  as meat and dairy were increased in their diets, the instances of cancers - particularly prostate and colon cancers - SKYROCKETED.  and through all of these movies and some other research, we learned about the carbon footprint of a meat-based diet versus a plant-based diet (you can google meatless mondays and check the UN - yes, united nations - website for basic info on that).

so the last week has seen the gas family undergoing probably the biggest lifestyle change we've ever seen.  there is no longer cow's milk in this house - we are using almond milk for cooking, cereal, and protein shakes.  i used soy milk in my coffee and was unimpressed... i'm going to try coconut milk next.    @_antgas found a soy based protein shake - no animal derived proteins.  i served meat-free meals almost all week.  we had fish (sushi) on wednesday.  @_antgas had chicken on friday and i had chicken sausage yesterday.  we're continuing to juice.

it was funny, my first thought was 'we don't eat THAT much meat'.  out of seven nights a week, i only cooked meat maybe four or five.... and i realized, that's kind of more than i thought.  but then we realized that we were eating meat every single day for lunch - cold cuts.  now i'm making beans and rice for lunch.  and @_antgas is on a bit of a cleaner food kick as well.  he's reading labels and cutting down processed foods.  i looked at the back of my favorite low fat ranch salad dressing (i use it for my carrot snack time) - HOLY FUCK.  i now use hummus for my carrots.  and that special k cereal?  the cookies i like?  ergh.  you can be vegetarian and eat SO SHITTILY - did you know oreos (and teddy grahams) are technically vegan.  i do not support PETA, and i will not link to them in my blog.  but they have an interesting page called 'accidentally vegan' where you can see a bunch of crap that you wouldn't think is vegan.  but if all you eat is morningstar farms veggie burgers, oreos, and soy ice cream - you're not healthy.  you might be vegetarian/vegan, but you're not healthy.

we're striving to be healthy.  we're looking at lower-processed, meat-free and dairy-free food item.  @_antgas is gung ho on cutting out dairy.  i think he's fucking crazy.  i love cheese.  LOVE. IT.  and i finally started eating yogurt like three years ago and i like to mix my chia seeds in it.  and since i started eating it every day, well, let's say my intestines are a lot happier and more regular.

have you TRIED vegan cheese?  don't.  please.  just don't.

so instead of cutting out all dairy FOREVER, we're going to visit some local long island farms this spring and see if we can't find some locally produced, organic egg and cheese options.  until then, we're buying 'cage free' organic eggs and keeping our fingers crossed.  and i'm still buying cheese.  and i'm still going to eat the fuck out of it.

but meat?  not so much.  i think it's amazing that i've only eaten meat twice in the past week - and one time was fish, not even meat-meat.  and i feel pretty damn good.  i just never thought that this would happen.  my brother has been a vegetarian for seven years (i think it's about seven years...) and i remember asking him, don't you think you'll ever want a steak again?  my family LOVES some steak.  and he said he didn't think so.  he can go out to eat with us and watch EVERYONE around him eat a steak, and he's perfectly happy with his pasta primavera.  to be honest, i used to think he was crazy.  no chicken stir fry?  no chinese food boneless pork spare ribs?  NO FUCKING STEAK???!?!?!!

REALLY???!

now?  not so much.  i remember my brother telling me what finally drove him to be vegetarian.  i never thought he was crazy for making the choice; i even told him i understood it.  i did - i am empathetic enough to understand why he chose it.  but now i REALLY understand it.  and while my brother's main reasons for eating a vegetarian diet are animal-rights based, i understand the health benefits as well.

and so we embark on a plant based lifestyle.

at least i made it in before the end of the year...

well, hello there.  seriously, if you're actually reading this, you probably deserve some kind of award for actually clicking on my blog in your feed.  because, you know, i've all but abandoned you.

sad, really.

and i'd love to have a good explanation..

oh, i do.  so, there's that.

so i had been offered that job which i started.  and i had that gallstone attack that required surgery.  but we've missed HUGE CHUNKS of my life (which i'm sure you barely care about).

now, october passed as octobers do.  i had held off on scheduling my surgery because i'm a fucking pansy and i didn't want to have it done.  we were preparing for the scatter-mom's-ashes cruise on october 29.  and i was working full time and taking 12 credits (which is, like, full time.  isn't it?  it sure feels like it).  so my days consisted of waking up, working, homeworking, sleeping.  wash, rinse, repeat.

i scheduled my surgery for the tuesday before thanksgiving so i could have a few (paid) days to recoup without actually missing a lot of work.  i ate carefully to avoid enraging my delicate gallbladder.  i hung out when i had time, attended school like a good girl, and spent a fuckton of time on homework and research.  the days passed quickly, one week bleeding into the next.  suddenly it was the end of october and time for croozin'.

my brother and sisterfromanothermister were going to the fest in gainesville before the cruise and we were spending a couple of days visiting friends in tampa.  we planned and checked weather and packed and checked weather...

...and suddenly, this storm named sandy was becoming a concern.

it was scheduled to hit florida and the bahamas before we were, and hit new york after we left.  i obsessively checked cruise websites and watched as the monarch (the same ship we were sailing on) sat in port canaveral for four days instead of sailing to the bahamas.  i read about ships missing ports and hitting really rough seas.  i worried about my brother and sisterfromanothermister's first cruise sucking.  we kept planning and kept an eye on the storm.  they weren't too worried about it.

that story changed once we were in florida.

suddenly, the jersey shore and south shore of long island are full of people freaking the fuck out - and we were 1200 miles from our home on the south shore.  our things, our cats, our cars (except for my brother's) - we couldn't do much.  i had a friend watching our cats and shit, but really - what could i expect her to do when she only lives four or five blocks north of us?

now, when i say 'south shore of long island', i mean lindenhurst. i don't know if i've ever been that specific before.  but when we were watching national weather broadcasts, we kept seeing them reporting a few blocks away from our house - places we pass every day, places we stopped and shopped.  our house is thankfully on a little hill (one of the only houses on the block that high up).  five blocks south of us is the bay.  one block to the east and one block to the west are both canals.  and two blocks north of us is another small canal.  so we are surrounded by water, with one tiny, old, barely two lane concrete bridge connecting us.

while we were on the ship october 29th, hurricane sandy bore down on long island.  between the astronomical high tide, the rains, and the storm surge, we had five feet of water in our area.  we watched reporters on montauk highway, a few blocks north and east of our home, reporting in water halfway up their thighs.  my friend sent us a video right after the first surge, and there was at least two feet of water running down her street like a river.  how is there current there?

the water rose enough to come over the bulkheads lining the canals.  there were bulkheads that broke loose and rested on people's front lawns.  there were boats that literally washed ashore in the high water and came to rest on lawns.  trees were uprooted, breaking up concrete sidewalks and streets, taking down fences and power lines.

we had an extra round of drinks that night and tried to relax.  there was nothing we could do.

we came home that friday, november 2nd, to a cold, dark house and two dead cars.  my beloved 2005 santa fe, the first car awesome husband @_antgas and i had bought, was ruined.  there was salt water filling the cupholders and soaking up the backs of the seats.  sisterfromanothermister's five month old chevy sonic was ruined; it must have been practically covered in water at one point.  our home was safe and dry;  @_antgas' car was barely spared - the salt water rose to within an inch of the opening to the car door.  the cats were fine, if not a little weirded out.  we came home with dirty laundry and nowhere to do it.  our only remaining car was on empty, and the gas stations were dry, out of power, or had hours-long lines.  we hunkered down in the dark for a few days, waiting.  we filled a cooler with some food and snacks.  we watched family guy on my ipad.  and then a second storm came - a snow storm.  the temperature dropped - our house temperature dropped to 48º at one point.  we tried boiling water to help, but all it really did was fog up the windows.  we snuggled under extra blanket and cuddled the cats.

my dad has an extra car and he said i could borrow it - once i could find gas for it.  once i did, we went back to work.  we tried to have some normalcy.  we showered at my dad's house, relishing the hot water, went to work, ate dinner out, and came home to a cold, dark house with nothing but candles and flashlights.  our area had no power for 13 days (we were only there for 8 of them).

schoolwork had piled up, laundry had piled up, and nary a plan for american traditional familial holiday (aka christmas) had been made.  but i still had my surgery to deal with.  which went well.  i spend a couple of days sleeping and eating percocet, hanging out and watching like every fucking episode of american dad, and then went back to work with minimal pain.  i feel much better now.  even though i missed thanksgiving for all intents and purposes.


things are roughly back to normal.  however, my stress levels are not.  everyone was chalking my stressy attitude up to work and finals, but finals are over and i'm still stressy.  i'm trying to be more cognizant of my demeanor and attitude and shit like that.  and trying not to take shit out on other people.

oh, and our cruise was excellent.  it was just hard to remember how great it was when we came home to all that crap.  which is really sad.  but we enjoyed ourselves, scattered mom's ashes, and saw some friends in the process.  expect a blog with some photos of the cruise at some point in time.  i mostly promise.

welp, here we are again.  me, not posting often enough.  you, reading without pants (at least, i hope you are.  i'm currently wearing really short terry cloth shorts because they're the closest thing to 'not pants' i can wear in front of my brother).  i've just been busy.  and the funny thing is i have SO MUCH to say.  i keep having great ideas that i need to blog about... and it just never happens.

i've recently upped my daily dose of 'normal pills' (well, my doctor did) and i've been feeling a bit 'flat'.  anyone who has had experience with antidepressants/antipsychotics/drug dealer doctors/etc knows what flat affect is.  it means you feel like nothing.  yes, you don't feel crippling depression or the need to cry every hour, but you don't really feel happiness or joy or the desire to do anything.

like, i'm going to the gym today.  but i don't really want to.  and i don't really care if i do. 

actually, the only 'things' i'm really feeling are fear and nervousness.  and anxiety a bit, i guess.  the fear part comes from the fact that my brother informed me at 1am that his part of the house is still overrun with earwigs. 

i. fucking. hate. earwigs. 

they are my most hated/feared insecty thingy.  i hate them and scorpions, but thankfully scorpions only exist as pets (to crazy fucking asshats) in new york.  (really, who wants a pet with claws AND a stinger??!??!?!?!!??!?!?!?!?!?)

?!?!!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!

we live down by the water.  it's been rainy.  earwigs like dark and wet places.  like the foundation around our house.  and if they can find a way into a home, they're like 'oh, this looks like a fun adventure!  let's see if we can make stephgas chase us around like an idiot and kill me like a champ (sorry, the photos have disappeared but, be assured, they involved me moving couches and attacking a lone earwig with a steel toed boot of awesome husband's). 

earwigs kept popping up this year.  first i found one in the house and awesome husband killed it.  then i found one in the closet where i keep my diet crack cans, right at fucking eye level so i could have a complete fucking freak out before leaving for work.  awesome husband killed it.  then i came home from work one day and there were, like, nine guarding my door.  and i refused to touch the handle, so i banged on the little glass window next to the door until awesome husband came to open the door so i could watch each of them to ensure they weren't going to attack me en masse. 

in this time, my brother started finding earwigs downstairs in his part of the house, which is ground level - not underground at all.  one in the tub, a couple on the floor.  you know.

then, awesome husband, my brother, and sisterfromanothermister all went to atlantic city to see metallica and other bands in this ridiculous festival thingy called the orion festival.  which was set up and started by metallica and had a bunch of great bands.  but was happening IN A FUCKING FIELD IN ATLANTIC CITY IN JUNE and i'm 32 years old and lazy and NOT fucking standing in a fucking field all day to watch a bunch of damn bands.  i am an old lady.  i need a seat in the shade, preferably with a bar withing walking distance. 

plus, i had to work.  and the mets-yankees series was that weekend, and i wanted to watch it.  so, you know.  i stayed home by myself from friday night to like 1am monday morning.

it started innocently enough.  as i was coming home on friday night, an earwig tried to run in the house when i opened the door.  i fucking stomped that bitch and kicked his carcass out the door.  i was hyperventilating the entire time and needed a stiff diet coke before i could do anything else. 

saturday i was in the shower after hitting the gym.  naturally, i was naked, since most people shower without clothes on.  i hate bugs being anywhere i am naked because it's rude and uncomfortable.  so bugs in the kitchen or living room?  i can usually handle (as long as it's not an earwig).  ANY FUCKING BUG in the bathroom or bedroom?  shit's going down.  i've stripped the entire bed at 2am to ensure there are no other bugs after finding one, and have needed tarzipan to get back to sleep.

so saturday, i'm home alone (well, with three lazy and selectively stupid cats) and in the shower.  i throw my towel over the far end of the shower curtain rod thingy so i don't have to traipse across the bathroom sopping wet to get to my towel.  so i turn off the water and grab my towel, wiping my face down first to get the water out of my eyes.  then i kind of open up the towel in front of me because i'm about to start rubbing my body down and I SEE A GODDAMNEDMOTHERFUCKINGOMGINEEDMAPGAS earwig ON MY TOWEL.

there. was. an. earwig. on. my. towel. which. i. was. about. to. dry. my. naked. body. off. with.

do you understand?  do you understand how fucking :LKEJGOBURiowu this was??? i don't even have words.  i was, at the time, speechless.  i couldn't even shriek properly; my throat went dry.

it was one of my worst nightmares: alone, naked, and with an earwig.

i shook the vile thing off the towel into the tub.  i tried to drown it... didn't work.  panicked, i grabbed my hairspray and started spraying it while trying to flush it down the drain.  nothing.  the water must have been washing away the hairspray.  terrified, i turned off the water.  it started coming at me, pincers raised (or walking in the tub, my memory's a little foggy there).  i sprayed it with the hairspray and it slowed down a bit.  so i kept spraying.  for like 18, 19 seconds straight.  it was still moving.  finally, as the hairspray started to dry, the earwig started to die.  it wouldn't go down the fucking drain, so i got like four paper towels and picked it up out of the tub to throw it away. 

stephgas: 2 earwigs: 1.

my brother and sisterfromanothermister came home (along with awesome husband) very late sunday night/early monday morning.  i was up watching 'to catch a predator' and messaging with a friend who i had also got sucked into the show (have a seat.).  my brother and sisterfromanothermister went downstairs and were back up in about 7 minutes.  sisterfromanothermister informed me that the place was lousy with earwigs and she was going home.  my brother told me that he had killed over 20 in like four minutes and that they were everywhere.

my skin started to crawl.  awesome husband and i vowed to go to home depot to get killing tools the next day.

we bought something pet-safe for inside and a 'kill everything that moves' model for outside.  as well as a pet-safe spot spray for killing random earwigs.  we sprayed upstairs, we sprayed downstairs.  we figured we would be fine.

we were wrong.

although we haven't found any more earwigs upstairs and even found a dead one at our front door (HA YOU MOTHER FUCKER), my brother has continued finding them in large numbers downstairs.  in the bathroom.  in the living room.  in the laundry room.  in his dirty laundry.  in his clean laundry.  in his bedroom.  EVERYFUCKINGWHERE.

we haven't sprayed the 'kill everything that moves' spray outside because of time/weather, but it's stopped raining and i'm planning on doing it today.  hopefully that will help.  because my brother woke us around 1 am and said he felt like he was in an episode of 'infested' on animal planet (if you haven't seen this, it's horrifying.  and filled with bugs.  and if you're like me and don't like bugs, i'd recommend avoiding it).  he said he didn't want to stay downstairs. 

i don't blame him.  not one bit. 

------------------------------------------------------------

in other news, i'm looking for a big girl job.  i've been circulating my resume and looking for a job with benefits and that pays actual money.  not that i don't love piercing - i do.  i really enjoy it.  but there are no benefits.  and awesome husband wants to go back to school which will mean either leaving his current job or cutting his hours enough that he loses benefits.  and i need medical benefits so i can keep taking my 'normal pills'.  otherwise i get all suicidy and obsessive thoughtsy and stay-in-bed-crying-all-day-and-stop-showeringy.

i'm sure i'll blog more about that soon.  but really, the earwigs are the biggest thing right now.

a funny old thing

one day, i'll get back to writing funny posts. 

it's not that funny stuff doesn't happen in my life any longer.  it's not that my sense of humor is drastically different.  it's just that i think about things differently, i guess. 

i had an excellent day today.  i woke up way too early and started working, only for a couple of hours.  then i showered and got ready to spend the day with reverend bobdad because my half sisters were competing (cheerleaders).  rev bobdad picked me up and we went to my first ex-stepmother's house (rev bobdad's second ex-wife.  yup.  we're counting).  we then went to the high school where the competition was being held and who is sitting in the bleachers but my ex-stepmother's sort-of husband who also happens to be the biological father of my half sisters.

yea, i know.  it's near impossible to follow.

let's try this again.

i have sisters.  twin sisters that are 15.  they were born when my dad was married to my first ex-stepmother, so they were my half sisters.  when they were 4 my first stepmother became my first EX-stepmother when she divorced my dad and quickly married her masseuse.  then when my half sisters were 8 we found out they WERE NOT my dad's children, but they were biologically the masseuse's children.  for all intents and purposes, though, they are my sisters.  we have the same dad ('dad' and 'sperm donor' are two different things), we have the same last name (i hyphenated), and they are - and will always be - my sisters.  there has been a lot of bad blood between their biological father and our rev bobdad (among other people).  the biological father-slash-masseuse is still legally married to my first ex-stepmother, but they no longer live in the same household.  my rev bobdad sees my sisters twice a week for dinner, and the biological father sees them a couple of times a month. 

if you're following, good for you.  i should write a book.

so we walk into the gym and there sits biological father-slash-asshole.  but he did save seats for ALL of us (my rev bobdad included) so that was something.  awkward, but something.

he did look me in the eye for a nanosecond when he said hello to me.  he did not look my rev bobdad in the eye.

then my rev bobdad went to get a drink, and brought back a bottle of water for each of us - including biological father-slash-asshole.  which was nice.  but they didn't, like, interact.

so we all watched my sisters perform.  and high school cheerleading competitions are a little bit like 'bring it on'.  but with no espn reporters.  and less people.  and blaque isn't there.

but, you know.  other than that, pretty much the same.

my sister's school didn't place, sadly.  but my rev bobdad, sisters, and i were all going to our favorite steakhouse afterward, so it would be okay.  right?

wrong. as soon as biological father-slash-asshole got wind of my rev bobdad doing something with the girls, he got all biological-parenty and was like, i'm taking the girls out.

so we let him have his fun and went back to first ex-stepmother's house to watch television and have a snack.  and my rev bobdad fixed her motion sensor light.  and bought stuff to recaulk one of the bathroom tubs.  and bought a new clothes hanging rod thingy for one of my sister's closets.

anyway.

then they came home and we hung out for a bit and then we went to our steakhouse.  and had some steak and some fun conversation.  i remember when they were younger and were almost afraid of me.  now we talk like adults.  i love them.

we also talked a bit about the whole situation.  about how they used to think it was normal to have two dads.  they call rev bobdad 'dad' or 'daddy' and biological father-slash-asshole 'papa'.  one of my sisters told me that when first ex-stepmother (their mother, follow along please) told her that papa was their biological father, and daddy was their dad, she didn't get it.  but that was years ago.  we get it now.

i really wanted to ask what they got.  my rev bobdad was no saint, let me tell you.  he drank himself out of his first marriage (to my mom) and couldn't keep his pants on.  but faith can do strange things to a man and after he was saved (he's a born again christian.  charismatic christian.  whatever you want to call it) rev bobdad was a bit of a new man.  he has 27 years sober and is a great dad to those girls.  he was a drunken fool to me, and mostly just a fool to my brother.  but a man lives and learns (so does a woman for that matter).  i really wanted to ask my sisters if they got that, while my rev bobdad was married to first ex-stepmother, she fucked her masseuse and got pregnant with them.

like, really wanted to know if they understood that.

which is wrong.  i mean, number 1: they're 15.  number 2: you can't know your own mother's a liar.  children need to be able to love and trust their parents.  if you are told your parent is wrong or bad, it can destroy you.

blood is not always thicker than water.  my aunt proved that to me in a negative way, and my sisters prove it to me time and time again in a positive way.  i am in no way related to them - we share no blood.  they are nothing to me.

but they are my sisters.  we talked a bit about that - how blood relatives aren't always the best.  i told them how their mother - who is nothing to me, relation-wise - was more supportive to me during my mother's passing than my aunt - who is a blood relation, my mother's sister - was.  they mentioned about wanting to take their biological father-slash-asshole's name because it matches their nationalities, and i told them my last name is italian even though i'm irish, english, german, and scottish because i took my husband's last name.  names don't mean anything either.  it's not the people who share your name or your blood who are your family - it's the people who love and support you.

i think they understand it.  i think they know what their mother did, and how my rev bobdad, awesome husband, my brother, and i are NOTHING to them - nothing.  we only share a name because my father's last name is still on the birth certificates.  i think they understand more than anyone gives them credit for.  and i think they are the strongest girls i know for it.