Not for the squeemish

 You want the clean version or the dirty version?  Cause let me tell you, the clean version isn't all that clean either.  Today my little girl had her heart broken.  Again.  This is by the same guy who just a month or so ago, took me out to eat and poured his heart out to me telling me how badly he had messed up in the past and how he would never do anything like that again.  Begged for my forgiveness and understanding...yada yada yada.  As is the case most times when men are begging for mercy..... THEY'RE FULL OF SHIT.

Yeah, shortly after that meal, he pulled out a beautiful diamond ring and asked her to marry him.  And she said yes.  Today he came and said he "changed his mind."  To say she was distraught is an understatement.  So is saying that I handled it with any kind of grace.

Because I didn't.  Soooooooo didn't.  Here is what I left on his facebook.  Yes, facebook.  Kids these days (and most adults) function in facebook reality.  He wouldn't answer his phone (where I left him a voicemail that would make what I had to say on his facebook blush), so I wanted to publicly shame him at least a little bit and make sure he was very clear on where I stood and the damage he had done.

You miserable motherfucker! HOW DARE YOU BREAK MY DAUGHTERS HEART AGAIN!!! You piece of shit! If I were a man, I would drive to Tuscon & kick your ass myself! Didn't you sit me down a MONTH ago & swear you would never do this again??? Fuck you.

Not one of my proudest moments, but yet it felt so good.  Bastard.
xoxo veronica


I think I'll stop, rest here a while....

I'm finally starting to decompress and this is the scary part to me.  In the past month when things have been so stressful for me, then the whole breaking up and finding another home thing, it was time to put my game face on.  Time to armor up and be strong & stoic.  You know, through that whole ordeal, I never cried once.  I almost did a few times, but after the initial shock of it, I was totally eyes straight forward, get the job done.  That's easy for me.  That whole, chin-up lipstick-on thing.  Collin used to say to me, "You don't always have to keep your chin so much higher than your heart, you know."  And I don't.  Not anymore.  But when the times call for it, it's easy for me to slip right back into that zone because that I know how to do.

These past few days though, I can feel myself coming down.  Down from the stress, down from the trauma, down from the need for heightened senses and awareness, and that leaves me feeling sad, tearful, shaky, lonely and vulnerable.  Now, instead of merely feeling like I'm safe in my new fortress, I'm also realizing that means I'm alone.  It leaves the reality of all of the sad things that have happened bouncing around on my heart.  It leaves me realizing that once again, I need to leave my stained life soaking in God's grace.  It also leaves me less capable of handling new stressors because the armor is off.

Darren is in a bad place lately and to say he is being vile is such an understatement.  I have had to delete so many abusive, filthy voicemails and texts that I've considered getting my phone number changed.  Changed because of my own son.  I even let a few other people listen to one this morning so I can have a witness to the fact that I'm not exaggerating about how nasty he is being.  The problem is that a few weeks ago, it would've just rolled off.  Today, my heart is broken over it.  I am feeling everything like it's in technicolor and that sucks.  This I'm not comfortable with or good at doing.

I'm weary.  I'm tired from walking.  I need a break.  I normally don't allow myself that because it feels like a luxury.  Isn't that stupid?

"All I Can Say"
The David Crowder Band

xoxo veronica


Stupid picture of the day.....

....that made me laugh so spontaneously hard that I almost spit out my pumpkin pie! lmao

xoxo veronica

It needs to be said....

I'm not putting up with verbal abuse
even if you are a family member...
or my child.

Be nice or leave me alone.
xoxo veronica

Emma quote of the day

After saying something crazy,
Courtney looked at Emma and said,
"Emma, are you high??"
Emma looked shocked and said,
"No!  Drugs are for losers!
Test me, I'm clean!"

xoxo veronica


You count the fish....

I was reading tonight on one of my favorite old blogs a story of how four of the women in the family meet at dawn for a Bible study.  This time they were talking about John 21, where Peter says he's going fishing and a man on the beach they knew not was Jesus told them to cast their nets on the right side of the boat and they did and their nets were so full of large fish (153 to be exact) that they could hardly bring the nets in...and then they knew without even asking that the man on the beach was Jesus.

There are so many things to gather from this verse. One person might want to be more passionate and impetuous for Christ, like Peter, and jump out of the boat without thinking and run for him.  Another thing I take from it is when Jesus asks Peter three times ,"Do you love me?"  That's a question that's been asked of me often lately (by the Holy Spirit).  I have a new burden for people and for forgiveness than I did before.  And when the old me creeps up and wants to flee the scene, I hear, "Do you love me?"  Because to love Him means to love his people. 

The most powerful thing I took from this story though, was when one of the women pointed out that there were 153 fish in the net.  153.  Someone had taken the time to count the fish (no doubt it was Peter).  They counted and saw how many so that they didn't even have to ask, they knew it was the Lord. The net held that many large fish...and yet it didn't break.  The Lord held it intact.

One of the other women, who has had a rougher life, has her pictures scattered over the table and she looks at them wondering, "what do you do with all this?"  Then she says, "You count the fish."  "You pull in the net of your life and you see that even though you felt you were ripped open, you didn't actually tear, so there's much in your net.  And you actually count them.  You make sure to count the fish.  So you don't have to ask because you know.  You know it is the Lord.  You count every single grace that he gave you through the long, dark night and you see that there are far more than 153!  There is a feast!"

There have been times where I have felt ripped wide open and I thought for sure all was lost.  I was lost.  But I wasn't.  My net held.  Not only did it hold, but it held full of fish.  And today on this my favorite day of the whole year, even though I have to work, I will still be taking the time to begin counting the fish.  Because I am blessed, and there are plenty.

Thank you Lord for being my provider and my protector, for being my Abba Father and the pursuer of my heart.  Not only have you kept my net intact, but you have filled it with a multitude of fish and I am grateful for every single one of them.  You are holy and I adore you.

xoxo veronica


I'll make the most of it, I'm an extrordinary machine....

Holding a grudge can sound so yummy sometimes, can't it?  Boy, when someone does us wrong, especially really wrong, it's so easy to dig our heels in and sit in our big pile of righteous indignation, determined to be angry and most of all make them pay.  We take it on as our job to debt collect from them and maybe, just maybe (but probably not), someday we might let them off the hook and forgive them.

Actually, I can't imagine living that way.  It is so toxic to be so bitter and I'm just not built that way.  I mean, I can't say that I don't hold a grudge toward anyone... the devil gets out of prison in one year (omg) and I hold plenty of grudges toward him.  I don't even know if it can be considered a grudge because it's so big.  And I definitely hold one toward the wasband because of the way he took such advantage of me.

Other than that though, I'm kind of like teflon... the stuff just doesn't stick.  If someone does me wrong, I may not ever have the same kind of relationship with them, because boundaries change and new rules are established but my gosh, I would rather have peace than debt collect off of that person for the rest of my life!

I think I'm just hard-wired to have rose colored glasses and to give the benefit of the doubt.  I always seem to default to the train of thought that you never ever know what someone was going through at that moment in their life that they chose to trespass on the good nature of your life.  Also, you never know what works God is going to do in that person's life.  How do you know that the way you react to what they did isn't going to affect them in a way that is so big that it will be life-changing for them?  And then it's a ripple effect... they start doing good things and it touches someone else and then someone else and then someone else.

What they do is their karma, how you react to it is yours.

Over this last week where I've had trouble in my dating life and had a few major shake-ups (what else is new at chez v?), I have been reminded of this because of the number of people who have actually given me grief about trying to be peaceful with Paul.  He's not a monster.  He's Paul.  He's a man who did a shitty, shitty thing.  He hurt people emotionally and he changed relationships forever.  But should I walk around with a demon on my back determined to hate him and hold a grudge?  Frankly, that's a rhetorical question, because I don't care what you think (shorry boo).  I refuse to stop in my tracks.  I refuse to get stuck in a critical, judgmental, hateful place of being.  That's not who I am.  That's not who God is.  And I believe God.

And with all this being said, I have to say that I also believe God when he says that where mercy is shown, mercy is given.  Let me tell you, I have screwed up so many times.  Sometimes little and sometimes big.  I had to think about it for a minute, but I'm pretty sure I can honestly say that I've never screwed up with malice.  I mean, I never did anything to be mean or to purposely hurt anyone else.  I know that sometimes it did anyways, but... well, just but.  To those I have hurt, I say I'm sorry.  My heart to yours, I am very, very sorry.  I'm banking on what God says and that maybe I will be shown a little bit of mercy along the way.

Even to my favorite stalker...I always wonder whether you're curiously amused by me, or full of viciousness.  My little stalker visits me all the time.  She comes to my site from everywhere that my name is mentioned.  I sometimes think she does nothing to earn those high-paid Department of Justice bucks but to sit and Google my name.  It's okay though, it is what it is.  Some call it stalking, she calls it keeping in touch.  I have to say though, that this morning my phone rang with a Cleveland number and I let it go to voice mail because I thought it might have been my stalker calling to tell me I needed milk.

“The quality of mercy is not strained; 
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed- 
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.”
~William Shakespeare

"Extrordinary Machine"
Fiona Apple

xoxo veronica


Quick update....

Okay, since I'm EXHAUSTED and
I don't officially have internet yet,
but one of my kind neighbors does ;)
I'll give you a very quick update.

Here's the short of it....

Paul convinced me after months 
of being a great guy to move in with him.

I finally agreed.

It was great....
for a few days.

By day seven,
he was sulky and giving me the silent treatment,
and telling me the best way to get along
was to"stay away from him
& learn how to keep my f***ing mouth shut."

I slept on the couch after telling him that if he didn't
fix himself and QUICK
that I would be leaving.

I don't think he believed me,
because he just kept escalating.
As if he thought he now had me where he wanted me,
so he could behave how he wanted.
His excuse was just that he had a rough week,
had lost his job,
had a knee injury,
therefore he could act as nasty as he wanted.

Nah.  Brah.

By day nine he was screaming like a tyrant,
cussing, calling me vile names...
all in front of my kids, mind you.

So, after I started packing my things
and sent my kids to someone's house for safe keeping,
I ended up calling the police
as soon as I started hearing glass
shattering, meaning he was starting to break
my dishes because he was mad that I was going.

They didn't arrest him,
but just their presence and intimidation was
enough for him to snap back to himself
and he was pretty much peaceful until I finished 
moving out a day and a half later.


How is it possible for someone to FLIP so quickly????

I guess this is the first time I can say
Thank God for post traumatic stress syndrome!
(*laughing* kind of)

I recognized this crap as soon as it started happening,
and pounced on it.
I can't say I acted all that great in the process,
because I didn't.
I acted a fool.

As someone once told me,
my defense mechanism is VORACIOUS
(and that person hasn't even seen me CLOSE to where I was at this point!).

Paul told me today that he's never seen
a woman stand up to him the way I did.

I told him it takes a big man to pick on little girls,
and I will never cower from him.

If he's gonna squish me with all six-foot-nine,
350 pounds of himself,
he's gonna squish me to my face....
but I'll be damned if I continue living under the same roof as him.

So, thank God for my parents,
because I had just sunk all my money into that house
(yep, kiss THAT goodbye).

I can say that tonight
we are going to sleep in our new home,
that's quiet and peaceful.

We don't even have a towel unpacked,
and I have to work in the morning,
but we're here.

Amen and amen.

xoxo veronica


On a scale of 1 to Chris Brown, how angry am I getting?

What do you do when someone else is having a shitty week,
and they take it out on you?

Not just take it out on you,
but act completely stank and obnoxious to you.

This is my dilemma.

If you leave every time someone treats you like shit,
you'll never have anyone left in your life.

I'm a firm believer, though,
(and I know that I'm probably in the wrong)
that some behavior just shouldn't be dealt with in a 
gracious, all-is-well, you've had a shitty week, I get it kind of attitude.

No, sometimes people need a 
good slap upside the back of their heads
and told not to EVER act that way again.

What if the person doesn't respond though?
What if they don't respond to any of it?
Not even the sweetsie attitude.

They just want to keep acting foul
no matter what,
feeling entitled to act foul 
because of their shitty week.

Well, I'm here to say...


Approach determines response
and the response you are going to get out of me is
NOT going to be pretty.

xoxo veronica
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