What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, And Where, And Why (Sonnet XLIII)
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply;
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands a lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet know its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone;
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.
I have seen more sunrises in the past two months than I have in my entire life. It's impressive, I guess, but for the fact that... potentially... I will be seeing sunrises like this every weekday morning 9 months out of a year. Thinking about life in terms of waking up at 6 am 5 days a week... it's depressing. And daunting. Without a doubt.
I miss milestones. I think I've passed most of them in my life, with a few notable exceptions. But I remember! The days of thinking... oh, life is going to be so different. I can't wait til I ____________. Get to college. Turn 21. Move out and live on my own. Life is really really exciting for the first 25 years, and then what do you have to look forward to? Gray hair? First wrinkles? Turning 50? Dying?
Oh wow, I am super depressed now. I will cheer myself up by looking at pictures of Daniel Henney.
The video (above, it's right ^ there, can you see it?) is one of the new bands I'm obsessing over. I actually bought the CD! It was amazing, I haven't bought any new music in years, it feels like. But they're so happy, even when they're not, and the lead singer's voice resonates with me and.. come on, they have an accordion and a trumpet player. How can that not be awesome?
So I guess the dance wasn't so bad. It was interesting to see some of my students in a less-structured environment... the kids who, in class, were quiet or shy suddenly felt comfortable running around, dancing like mad, or twirling in circles. Is that how I was when I was 17? I want to say "no", but deep down, the answer is probably "yes".
As a teacher, I do a lot of time reflecting on my own youth. This is actually new to me, when I was teaching overseas, I never compared myself to my students. I'm not sure why that is... people are people no matter where you go, right? But maybe it was the new surroundings, maybe it was that the environment differed so drastically from the one that I was brought up in, maybe it was that they were 5 and learning (and communicating functionally) in a new language, as opposed to when I was five, and playing in ponds.
Here, though, the things these kids do... some of them I relate to. Some of them I rail against. It's strange. I thought I could honestly say that I, in my own young semi-adulthood, was nothing like the students of today. But maybe that's because I was focusing on the wrong students. From the behavior I saw last night, which was hyper, ridiculously enthused, slightly attention-starved, awkward and then not awkward... well, some of it reminded me a lot of me. It's kind of a blow to my ego, and now I have to either be less secure in my own moral superiority at seventeen, or just get over it. Or just pretend like I never had these thoughts and remain secure in my standing that, at that age, I was a prodigy who always behaved with the proper decorum for each situation.
Anyway, I ran over a frog last night. 80% sure. It was hopping across the road, but I only saw it too late because a) it was a little old frog, and b) it was dark. I wanted to slam on the brakes to let it pass, but there was a car right behind me, and they would probably have crashed into me, and what was I going to tell them? Sorry about the car accident, but I had to stop on the road for a hopping frog? I feel a disporportionate sense of guilt over the whole matter. I mean, yeah, it was a frog, but then again, it was a happy little hopping frog and I killed it. Like a monster.
I'm not actually sure how it happened, but I agreed to chaperone a school dance tonight. I'm not sure how I feel about this. I mean, on the one hand, it's good for me to show the school that I'm willing to help out, and I get appreciation points from the students who were having a hard time finding someone willing to chaperone... but on the other hand. It's a school dance. I have to watch it. I had originally planned on taking a book to read, but decided that that behavior would be terribly un-supervisory. But, it's three hours long. On a Saturday night. It's not like I was going to do anything tonight anyway, most likely, but still. Those are three hours in my weekend that I wouldn't have to be working.
Yeah I think I'm just whining for the sake of whining. And of killing time because I gotta leave in the next twenty minutes or so, and don't have much else to do. Maybe I'll go by the coffee shop.
So a few weeks ago, I took to the streets of Dallas in a fruitful search for kimchi. The overall trip went really well, except for the presence of some rather ubiquitous toll road signs the further in I got. Not actual toll booths, just signs. So, not really knowing what the heck was going on, and since there were no people there frantically waving their arms or otherwise trying to stop me, I just kept driving.
Visiting my parents this weekend allowed me to collect the mail still being sent to their address. One envelope was from the Dallas Tollway transit group, and held the bill for my use of those (now understandably) empty stretches of highway. $5.64.
And okay, fine, I will pay my six dollars. I am probably even going to actually buy one of those scanner card thingies so that I don't receive pictures of my car license plate in the mail anymore. But it got me to thinking... who up and decided that I have to pay $6 for the ability to drive down the street? In the name of one of my least favorite presidents, no less? I mean, I wouldn't mind if it was the President Taft Tollway. Who wouldn't want to ride down the highway in the name of the guy who got stuck in the White House bathroom. Or if I knew that the payment of the toll was to purchase some rolls...
So I may or may not listen to NPR podcasts at work.
Well, actually, there is no "may not", I definitely listen to NPR podcasts at work, before class starts or during lunch. Lately I've been going through their tiny desk concert series, and really liked this band. Here they are for your listening enjoyment.
Well, I have survived my first six weeks. It really wasn't so bad. I think I've got a routine down. I haven't cried. Well, at least not since that one time. But that was a pretty legitimate cry, if you ask me.
I spent today searching for a Korean Market in Dallas to buy kimchi. And I was successful! I found Super H Mart, in Carrollton. It was amazing--the place was huge, clean, and seemed pretty modern. AND it had a Tous Les Jours inside.
After I got home, I decided it was finally time to put my platform bed together. Until a few weeks ago, I was sleeping on the floor on a blanket, and after then, I was sleeping on the floor on a mattress, but now? Now, I am going to sleep on a mattress on a 90% constructed platform bed, and it will be awesome. The piece is only 90% done because it's apparently a 2-person assembling job... which I shrugged aside until it came to the part where you had to LIFT the bed up and TURN IT upside down and that thing is heavy! You have to do that so you can attach the final pieces of trim, and of course, I couldn't really manage to turn it over so I lifted it up and turned it on it's side and then it fell on me and then I decided that it was done enough and that no one is going to see it anyway.
Then I tried to put up a curtain rod and that was just a dismal failure so I decided to watch tv on the internet for awhile. And post in here. Which I am doing.
The pile of papers there for me to grade has been multiplying when I wasn't looking, I'm pretty sure. There's no other explanation as to how I can grade and grade and mark and mark and still have piles of papers that haven't seen the right side of a red pen at all. I even went to work early today! Earlier than I normally go, and I normally go pretty early! I need a paper-grading robot. Named Rhett. Miller.
And I'm resurfacing! In my new and improved(?) life as a school teacher, wherein I do RESPONSIBLE things, like grade papers and go to sleep at 7:30 pm like an old person. Though my birthday did pass recently, maybe now I really am an old person.
Scary.
In the meantime, I've read plenty of books. Or, re-read, I should say, since this place doesn't have a bookstore and I'm too broke to go and buy new books anyway.
I've been listening to the Decemberists tons lately, as I am in dire need of new music. Plus, I love the Decemberists. This is one of my favorite songs right now.
I've watched 파스타, also known as Pasta, the Korean drama that aired at the beginning of this year. Ah, it makes me so nostalgic. I need to get over it. I mean, Texas has it's good points.
Texas' Good Points 1. I have a job and an apartment and a car here. Which is better than having none of the above. I don't have a crazy neighbor that sings opera and plays loud gambling games at all times of the night. No one yells at me for walking up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. Of course, I live on the first floor, so it's kind of a moot point.
2. People speak English here. Pretty well, most of the time!
3. I have a microwave and an oven, and there are majillions of foods that I can make with the microwave or oven within a short time and with a minimal amount of effort. They even sell these veggies in plastic bags that steam themselves if you put them in the microwave for 5 minutes and 30 seconds. PLUS, since they emit all this steam, after cooking them, it's very easy to clean inside the microwave. It's kind of like multitasking. Or saving effort. Or something.
4. If I had a TV and cable, I could watch hours on hours of Spongebob Squarepants. Since I don't, I can console myself that Nickelodeon or one of it's affiliates is playing hours and hours of Spongebob Squarepants even as we speak.
5. I'm learning a lot about being a teacher, so it's challenging. Teaching phonics wasn't quite the same... Though I still feel sometimes that I want to kick something violently after I get out of work... well, I think that's pretty normal.
For me.
6. I get paid soon, and I'm going to celebrate! Responsibly! Probably by watching another drama or something.
7. I think, overall, I feel like I'm making progress again. I think what I miss about being overseas is how secure I felt. I always had enough money for needs AND wants, I always had something to do, but I wasn't really doing anything. If that makes sense. Now I know that I'm going to be a little better off next year than I was last year, or even now... which is somewhat reassuring.
Unless, of course, there's like... a zombie apocalypse, in which case I'm way better off now, I guess.
So I have found an apartment and am moving in two days. What a way to start a blog entry, eh? I'll try to make it more exciting from here. Probably through the copious use of exclamation marks.
I am trying to figure out how to decorate a new apartment! With extremely limited funds. Extremely limited. So limited that I won't actually be purchasing anything in the new few MONTHS, so I guess how to decorate my new place isn't a very pressing concern.
But it's fun, dangit.
Here is what I know will go into my new apartment.
1. A table.
2. A laptop.
3. Clothes and other personal items.
4. A sofa or futon.
Well that's about it so far. There are multiple reasons for my lack of prospective furnishings. One is that everything I had owned has been procured by other people in my family due to my absence overseas. I'm a little bitter. Two is that I only have a little car, and lots of stuff won't fit into it. So I'll have to bring things or buy them later. Three is that I have only a bit of expendable income, and that will go towards purchasing an itty bitty futon or sofa and that is what I will sleep on until I can buy a bed because... I won't have a bed.
But I will have some curtains! I should add that to my list.
Well, tomorrow I'm off to sign my contract for employment, and find myself a place to live. This is a daunting task, as I've already called several places and most told me that they wouldn't have any spots available, or some were simply too big for me, and too expensive. But I have a feeling that I may have to settle for too big, since that's preferable to no place to live at all. Or living in a car. Or a tent. Or a house made of sticks, because I hear those aren't very good at keeping predators out. Here's hoping for good luck.
I'm pretty sure I'll have to decorate a classroom? Not sure how that's going to work out. Am I going to have to go buy some motivational posters of kittens hanging off a tree? In Korea, we'd print off pictures of different rooms in a house and laminate them with big labels to identify them. I think that might be a little simplistic. I'll have to gain some ideas from my coworkers, I guess.
At this time last year, I was coming back from a trip to the Philippines. I am hoping at this time next year to be coming back from a visit to somewhere. Korea maybe, but... it could be anywhere.
In the meantime, I will reminisce over that past summer vacation.
This is the hostel we stayed at, the Boracay Butterfly Gardens. We didn't see any butterflies. The hostel itself was very nice, and it was right on the beach. This wasn't the main beach on Boracay, White Beach, but Bulabog beach, which was quieter, and filled with boats. Fortunately, White Beach was only about a 10-15 minute walk away.
Here is a view of some of the boats at the beach. We went on one of these later , and went island hopping and snorkeling. And for the record, I get seasick like whoa. Knowing that previously would have basically killed my desire to go island hopping or snorkeling or to even set foot on the boat. Unfortunately, I only figured it out once we were out at sea and entering the choppy waves. That part was not so pleasant. Also, please note the cloudy skies. Apparently, if you go to the Philippines in August, it's rainy season. Fortunately, while it does rain every day, it's usually brief and warm, and we still went swimming during the showers.
Here we have a small bit of sun off of White beach. And a sailboat. There were also lots of kiteboarders, which I had never seen before. It was really amazing, until one of my coworkers got hit by one. Which was still pretty amazing.
White Beach was beautiful but windy. During the rainy season they have to set up windbreaks to keep the sand from blowing in off the beach and smacking you in the face. Which, while I'm sure is nice and exfoliating, isn't so pleasant when you're scratching sand out of your eyes. And your nose. And your teeth.
The main stretch of beach has tons of shops, restaurants, and little bars. I stopped for a henna tattoo, and we all got mango shakes and wow. Mango shakes are awesome. I also bought tons of dried mangoes to take back to Seoul for my coworkers... but I ended up keeping most of it for myself. Let them get their own dried mangoes, those were mine!
He sells fresh coconuts to the tourists out snorkeling.
But I'm not going to apologize. I'm not even sorry. It's not like anyone's reading this anyway.
I got my exam results....
....and.....
I passed! But it's kind of bittersweet. Like I've mentioned before, I have been getting a little nostalgic for my former foreign residency, so much so that... I'll admit it, I started looking at the job ads. I debated ordering the transcripts and going to get fingerprinted, but I didn't.
And I'm mostly glad for that. Though I still do have to get my fingerprints taken, now they'll be taken for the State Board of Educators, and not for some little academy in Seoul.
So now there are things to do! Contracts to sign, housing to seek, cars to purchase (rather, CAR to purchase), lesson planning, classrooms to look over, oh wow I'm actually going to be a teacher. It's great, really, it's exactly what I set out to do once I decided to leave Korea. And there's no student teaching, so I'll actually get paid, and get at least a year of valuable experience... experience that will be useful if I do end up going overseas again, as I'll be able to teach in an international school, and they usually want at least two years experience. While I'm sure my academy experience is worth something there, real-life classroom experience will be infinitely more so.
When I first decided to return to Texas, my plan was to start the life that my peers had already started--you know, the actual career, the house, all of that. But now that I'm back, I'm not exactly sure if that's the life to suit me. So I'm going to do my best to not make any plans that extend past a year--there will be no 10 year goals here, other than the vague one of making myself happy with my life. What that entails, who knows? Maybe I'll start a commune in India and meditate every day and live off of bananas. I like bananas. It's a viable option.
Today, I helped my mom clean out some old papers that had accumulated around the house. In the process, I found a lot of my old things that I'd never thrown out, either due to laziness, a lack of opportunity, or a misplaced sense of sentimentality. Boy, did those things get tossed today.
I did manage to save a few items, though. Pictures, letters from my grandmother, and a diary I had written all the way back in 1995... you know, when people still hand-wrote their diaries.*
Then I made the mistake of reading part of the journal. And every.single.page, I kid you not, talked about boys. How this one was cute, or this one was not, how this one had blonde hair or blue eyes or a red t-shirt. Every. Single. Page. I did talk about some other things in there, it wasn't like a giant ode to boys or anything, but they always got at least a cursory mention.
Now, I can chalk this up to a lot of things. I mean, it's pretty standard for most 13 year olds to be pretty darn boy-crazy. Plus, I was frequently reminded that I wasn't allowed to date until I graduated from high school. And I didn't. In retrospect, this was probably a good thing, considering just how boy crazy I was, I would have probably ended up with about 18 kids by now.** However, at the time, the only thing I wanted more than a copy of Final Fantasy VI*** and smaller glasses was a boyfriend.
Boy has that changed! I mean, don't get me wrong, I still like boys. They're very nice to look at (sometimes... some of them), they're occasionally fun to talk to****, and they can be good at picking up heavy objects. Some of them sing very nicely, and others dance well and a few of them can even cook. That doesn't mean they take up my every waking thought... and some of the non-waking ones. I guess this is an example of growing up? At least it makes for much less embarrassing diary entries.
Er, excuse me, journal entries.
*I have a diary that I still hand-write. Though now I'm all mature and stuff, so I call it a journal.
**Don't ask me how that's biologically possible. I just know that it is. I saw that show on TLC about the family with the bajillion kids, it can happen.
***Why yes, I was a dork, back before dorks became cool. I consider this an example of being a trendsetter.
****Haven't actually talked to him, just making an assumption.
I think I'm losing sight of what's brought me back to the States in the first place. It's so easy to do, though. Watch as I again complain of boredom. But it's not really boredom, as much as a feeling of being on pause. I'm making a few motions towards setting up a life in my new town, where I got my job acceptance, but I'm still waiting for my exam results to come in before I really start to do anything.
And I think I'm a little overwhelmed by all there is to do. I'm basically starting from scratch at this point. I had edited so many things out of my life when I first went overseas, and again when I came back. Three years ago, my life fit into two suitcases. Three months ago, it fit into two suitcases... and approximately 6 boxes that I sent through the mail.
On the bright side, I've grown to enjoy having less clutter in my life. Not to say that there's no clutter at all, but there's definitely less than more people. But then again, I don't have the things most people my age do, like a car, or a tv, or a bed. Yeah, I don't have a bed. I'll be sleeping on an air mattress when I first move to my new place.... and I don't have an air mattress either. I'll be buying it once my test results come in. See the way that moved full circle there?
Though I did manage to acquire a cat. I guess that's some progress on the road of life.
So I think I can divide my life into segments based on where I lived at a given time. I guess most people can do this actually, except for people who lived for an entire lifetime in one place, or for people who had really really exciting things happen to them. I am not one of those people.
This is not divided very evenly... but here goes.
The Farm Age, 0-5.5:
I lived on a farm (duh). As is naturally the case in such tender, formative years, I don't remember much. Well, that's not precisely true. I remember a great deal, but all the events that I remember seem to have to do with me hurting or embarrassing myself. Like how I chopped my toe with a hatchet when I was trying to chop down a weed. Or when I ran away from home and set up camp in the cattle pen about 500 feet from the house. Or when I fell through the ice in the pond (in Texas, we call 'em 'tanks') like Amy in Little Women, except for the lack of ice skating, and Laurie rescuing me, and the fact that I was in a shallow part, so I only got wet to my knees. But I had to walk back home! In the snow! And it was cold!
The School Age, 5.5-18:
We moved to townwhen I started kindergarten. (I mostly remember only embarrassing things from then, too, it's like a disease, man.) My life was not exciting. I had a variety of "best friends", was in Girl Scouts (troop 256!) for a few years, went to middle school, went to high school. I was a definite academic type with unacademic leanings. It's hard, when you go to such a small school, to stay in only one niche, unless you really force yourself to it. So I kind of did a little bit of everything.... High school was definitely the high point during this period, because I actually remember good things happening! Along with bad things. But we won't get into them.
The Lubbock Years, 18-24:
I moved to Lubbock to go to University. My requirements in the University that I chose weren't too stringent. In fact, they mostly depended on which school would give me the best scholarship, and since all the ones I applied to offered pretty good ones... it came down to which school I knew how to get to. Lubbock it was! All told, it wasn't such a bad decision, but in my next life, I'll probably be a little more exacting in my standards. College was all right. I was terrible at going to class and awesome at picking bad boyfriends. Once I graduated, I stayed around and worked for awhile, but it was more stressful than anything. I didn't know what to do with my degree, I didn't want to go to grad school then, and I didn't know how to make any plans for the future. So that leads to... Korea Time, 24-27: Moving to Seoul was probably one of the best decisions of my life. I got to experience life as I'd never known it. Museums, theatres, ballets, nightclubs, street food vendors, mountains, rivers, beaches, coffee shops, aquariums, parks, restaurants, soju and samgyupsal, oh I get nostalgic just thinking of it. Even now, it's hard to not just pick up and go back. Not to say that my life there was perfect... there were definite rough spots, but there was so much to look forward to each week. I guess I miss that lifestyle even more, because my current era is...
The Unknown, 27-?:
This point in my life seems mostly to revolve around watching TV, washing dishes and reading books. I may be moving in the next two weeks or maybe not. I may be buying a car, renting a house, getting furniture, cooking my own meals, grocery shopping for just myself.... or maybe not. It all depends on the results of the exam I took three weeks ago, which I will receive in one more week. One more week! And if I don't pass the exam... maybe I'll return to the previous era. Or maybe not.
But it's okay! Because I accept it. Besides, as I so eloquently explained it to my old boss, the highlight of my day now is when I get to make a trip to Wal-Mart. I have to drive 40 minutes to get a latte. I like lattes, but that sure is a long time to get one, so I rarely get to have them.
I had one today, though. It was pretty epic. Iced hazelnut lattes are what will get me through this summer. Even if they come around about once a week.
It had been raining off an on for almost the past two weeks. It kind of felt like monsoon season for awhile. I really like the rain, but there's a bad (or good, depending on how you view it) affect. It makes the grass grow. To ridiculously great heights. Yesterday, it FINALLY stopped raining, and then all I head up and down the block were lawnmowers. Loud, accusatory lawnmowers. Lawnmowers raging at me, for allowing such tall plant-life to grow in my own yard. Well, not my own yard, technically my parent's yard, but I guess lawnmowers don't differentiate when it comes to the jungle growing in front of the house.
So I mowed the yard.
I'm telling you this for three reasons.
1. I have lived exclusively in apartments for the past 9 years. That means... I haven't had to do any yard work in 9 years. I haven't mowed a yard in 9 years.... so boy, did my hands chafe. I couldn't feel my index fingers for the entire night.
2. I stepped in 3 beds of ants. Count them. 1.2.3. BEDS OF ANTS. Of course, I stepped in them after I ran the lawnmower over them, so they weren't too happy. And they showed that by swarming over my ankles and biting me. On three separate occasions. You would think I'd learn to watch where I'm stepping. Apparently not. Did any of you ever see the episode of Dirty Jobs where Mike's alligator hunting and gets bitten by ants?
Wait, I will show you.
Yeah, it's basically like that.
3. My next door neighbor is in her 80's, and she's a scrappy little thing. She mows her yard every day, uses the weedeater, sweeps the sidewalks.. we've even seen her going over her lawn with scissors. So when she saw me mowing the gigantic forest that had sprouted on the other side of the street.... well, to say that she approved would be an understatement. She came by to talk to me 3 different times during the course of my physical labor... the first time to verify that I was actually going to mow the yard... the second time to bring me a soda and a cup of ice... and the last time to press some Hershey's kisses into my hand. "These'll give you energy," she said.
I'm struggling with the idea of transparency, here. I mean, how much am I supposed to share on the great big old internet? Or how much is too much? I can tell you my height (5'7) or my favorite color (it's gray) (yes, really) but I just can't seem to feel okay about revealing too much in regards to my real life, or how I'm feeling....deep down.... or things like that. I realize it's better if I can share more, because then it's more interesting for anyone who happens to read this (if anyone happens to read this) and it also is a good way for me to remember what's happened at this point in my life.
I've kept "blogs" before, and I've kept written journals, and in both formats I struggle with this. I think this conflict stems from how little I edited from my journals when I was younger, and how mortified I was about what I had written down. Now, remembering them, they're not so bad. Mostly diatribes about how much I loathed whichever sibling I was fighting with at the time, or gushing praise about whichever boy I liked at the time. But reading what my 12 year old self had written when I was 18 was a bit of an eye-opener. And I guess it was then that I decided that 'twas better to be vague and confused than to talk too much about how cute Devon Sawa was. Do you remember Devon Sawa? I do. I had about 12 of his posters tacked up on the wall right next to my bed and I would look at him before I went to sleep each night and...
Oh. Right. Transparency.
I'm making an effort here. Or, at least, I'll try to make an effort here. I can't guarantee that I'll always be very forthright about what's happening in my life because... well... I just can't. There are some things a girl can't talk about. Like how many Diet Dr. Peppers they drink in a day.
I've spent a great deal of my current underemployedness not doing much of anything. I cleaned my parent's house. I walk the dog. I play an unholy amount of computer games. I run errands, and pick up heavy things, and it's all very relaxing. Except for the court TV.
My father is old. I mentioned that, right? And he will only watch three things on television: war movies, NCIS and court TV. And luckily for him, they show different court shows from 10 am to 2 pm on the same channel. He doesn't even have to flip channels.
Now, all of this wouldn't be a big deal if not for the fact that I don't like being cooped up in my current room. It's small, the only thing I can sit on is the bed, and it doesn't have air conditioning. No air conditioning in Texas is like no roller coasters at the amusement park. It's just not fun. So I get to sit out in the living room, with the air conditioning, and listen to court TV.
Right now, it's Judge Jeannine Pirro. Before her, it was Judge Mathis. Before HIM, it was Divorce Court, and before that, it was People's Court. Arrrrgh, I have it all memorized.
Anyway, there's one thing I've learned from watching/listening to all of these televised judiciary proceedings. And that is: PEOPLE SUCK.
I know that there are recruiters for this show, who go around and scour legal claims until they find the most interesting cases, or the most ridiculous people, and then offer them an appearance on this show. I know that some of these claims are probably set-ups, because the people get paid for appearing on the show. But, geez, all they involve are people jacking money from other people, or parents feuding over their children, or boyfriends or girlfriends trying to avoid paying child support, or trying to get their child support.
This is not fun.
Then, to top that off, today I've been reading this site, and it's basically encouraged me to never think about dating again. Which isn't such a bad idea. If I don't date, I'll never be tempted to sue my deadbeat-abusive-lazy boyfriend for the cost of the china that he broke whilst we were in the midst of one of our knock-down-drag-outs, while my terrorized children from 3 different fathers look on.
But then again, I wouldn't get to meet Judge Judy. She's a feisty one.
