I ate some protein.

Okay, I ate a TON of protein tonight, but at least that means we don’t have to talk about this for a while.

Before the girls and I strapped in the boys and traveled in search of proteins for Aunt Jen, I had a little talk with the Biddies.  An unfortunate situation reared it’s head again this week because some people only look out for Number One.  Not surprisingly, I don’t get along with these types of people.  Because everyone in my family knows about this blog I can’t get into specifics*, just like I couldn’t last time I talked about it.  I even tried my hardest to convince myself that I was wrong about the situation, and I actually buried it.  This week when it came to the surface again I was convinced to post what I was talked into removing from my website in order to save friendships.  So, in it’s entirety, here is the only post I have ever removed from this site:

“Is it totally insane to be a little… let’s say… giddy that I was right to be thinking about that kind of stuff last night?  That I let out enough rope that two people in my life are dangerously close to getting the big shove?  That my intuition hasn’t failed me, that my worries were grounded in something real and not paranoia?

Probably.  Maybe I shouldn’t be excited about giving people the drop kick, but it’s like cleaning.  It fucking sucks and no one wants to do it, but once it’s done, well then you have a clean house.”

It’s fitting to post today because it is exactly how I feel.  I wish I’d listened to myself back then, I could have saved myself five months of trouble.  Whatever, drop and kick.

*I know, how annoying.  It’s just easier not to get into the nitty gritty here, it’s a ridiculous, stupid, high school situation that is much better not being rehashed.  It’s got a little to do with a boy, and a lot to do with someone I trusted being a lying backstabber.  Such is my life.  Enough with that, it wasn’t all drama and arguments tonight. 

I trimmed Zach’s hair again, with his Lindsey’s assistance this time.  We talked about trimming Jorden’s hair too, he’s got this sorta old man vibe going with the fuzzy stuff in the back.

When Shannon sat down with him, as I’m reaching towards his fluffy hair, scissors in hand, I made a point to remind her that I have zero experience cutting hair, that we’re just winging it here.  So, we chickened out.  That brought up the time my Mother hung me upside down from a tree to cut my hair before admitting she has no haircutting skills either.  Fifth grade was a rough hair year for me.