11 months, 7 days and 3.5 hours

I'm just writing to say this: I've been a funk about blogging lately. I'm trying to be creative and write the "ultimate" post, but I feel that was done with the boob post. I guess I'll have to think of something funny, yet very true. Hummmm....

Family Matters: Brother addition

When you line my family up one by one, you don't find anyone that resembles each other. In fact, I can't say my brother looks like my dad or I look like my mom. The lack of common facial features have lead me to believe is one of the contributing factors that my three siblings couldn't be any more different. I think I could do individual posts on each of my siblings, that seems like a good idea. That gives me the opportunity to expose them all, tell their secrets, confess things I've hid from them. Why would I do this on my blog? Because none of them read it, T does, sometimes.

Anyways, this installment of the "Life of me" is dedicated to my dead beat brother. Let me just give you a heads up before you continue reading. I love him very much but he just makes bad choices! "L" is three years older than me, so I guess it was a privileged that he was a senior when I was a freshman? In high school, L was the BMOC (big man on campus.) The star goalie for the soccer team. He had girls under a spell, thinking he was Prince Charming. He smoozed his way through various classes. Most of all, he didn't acknowledge me. In fact, most people thought we were cousins and not brother and sister. It really never bothered me because or relationship has never been strong. For as long as I can remember, L pulled the big brother card and never showed much love to his sisters. By high school, I wasn't expecting a drastic change in his personality, so I kept to myself and lead the life of a freshman who's cousin was often the talk of the town. L made a lot of bad decisions in high school that most may have learned a lesson from, but I believe he just learned to be more careful not to get caught. Fast forward four years to when I graduated. Nothing much had changed with my relationship with L. We spoke when he was around, but never kept in touch. My brother's personality took a drastic change after he decided that going to college to play soccer wasn't for him. A semester in, he dropped out. That's his choice and I guess I could be jealous he doesn't have student loans to pay off. My brother had now gone from a total jock to a little hippie wandering through life. To this day, I still consider him a lost soul. I don't know if he'll ever find himself or even if he is still trying. I'd see my brother and analyze his living situation and believe he was finally at rock bottom, and now he could get back on track, make a life for himself. It never happened and still hasn't happened. He's played mind games with me, getting me to think he's changed and he actually appreciates his family and knows we love him. After never following through with his promises, I guess there is a part of me that has given up. L is 29 years old, lives in a broken down truck, looks for random jobs to survive, smokes enough to kill what brain cells he has left, and drinks like a fish. I'll never forgive him for calling me lame because I wouldn't drink with him. I wouldn't be the "fun sister" who would spend all day and night enjoying a stiff drink and smoking a fatty. I am lame, I'm so lame that I've grown up and have a job, pay my bills, have a warm place to live, and I love my family and know I'm blessed to have grown up in the house I did. I have no interest in talking to L, no reason to believe he's changed because it lasts .5 hours then he goes back to drowning his sorrows in whatever he can find. Again, I love my brother, but for goodness sakes, it's time for him to grow the F up! I'm not going to put up with his immaturity any longer. I'm done feeling bad for him because I firmly believe, life is what you make it. He's chosen not to make a life out of anything. He's just living.

Past due

Okay, I've failed as a blogger yet again. I promised to keep you posted with my foot issues and I tried to pull a fast one on you all and I felt guilty every time I thought about the situation. Basically after training for a very very long time, I was unable to run my half marathon. I'm still sad about the situation, but there was no way I could pull off 13.1 miles with the condition I was in. I can't give up though because I can now prepare all winter for another race in the future.
The End.

Oh, my foot is 99% better. Go figure!