Christmas wasn't much of anything in our house yesterday. Dan had mentioned being in touch with Joanne, one of our former next-door neighbors from Fence Lane, who expressed interest in having us over for the holidays, but apparently never made a solid offer. So I found myself spending most of my time on the computer. Our gym was closed, so I asked Brad if I could join him for a workout at his, which was open. I spent about 45 minutes on the treadmill, listening to my music and watching PRICE IS RIGHT. The TV sets there are very close to your face, not really far away, like at my gym, so I don't need glasses to read the closed captioning. Given that I've spent the past few days eating HORRIBLY--cookies, brownies, sugar-covered nuts, deli sandwiches (bought for us for lunch by Betty on Friday), bagels (bought for us for breakfast by me on Friday) and such, I felt going to the gym was warranted and necessary.

Gifts: Connie bought me a candle; Gary and Clyde signed their names to a Marshall’s gift card, but I have no idea how much it’s worth; ADA gave me two $25 Kohl’s gift certificates; Mailmen gave me a bottle of booze which we re-gifted to our mailman (LOL); Charlie gave me a nice bottle of mixed nuts (which Dan and Mike polished off yesterday); Betty gave me slippers and bubble bath that smells like muffins; and that’s about all I can remember. As usual, John Rudyk gave me nothing, even though I gave him a gift as I always do. Cheap fuck. He’s forever telling me to go shit in my hat, but never gives me a hat to shit in!

The big news of this entry is that I finally know what's going on with Brad and Ali. Five of us—Dan, Mike, Brad, Ali and I—went to Big Daddy’s to celebrate my birthday, many days late, but that’s just how it worked out. We had a nice time, but I noticed that Brad kept baiting Ali, making references to “my second wife,” saying other things that were genuinely upsetting her. We got into a discussion about naming their kids, and Brad was being deliberately obtuse, insisting he wanted to name the kids after himself instead of doing the “Jewish thing” of naming kids after dead relatives. I chastised Brad for being mean, and he just insisted Ali doesn’t have a sense of humor. To me, it just sounded like he was deliberately hurting/baiting her.

Thing is, Ali has been expecting a marriage proposal from Brad by now (after five years of dating), but he hasn’t asked. When I inquired about it a week or so ago, he indicated that he wasn’t sure he wanted to marry her. Sounds like trouble in paradise—or no paradise at all. So I used their argument at MY birthday party dinner (ah the guilt trips mothers take their children on!) to segue into their relationship issues again, prying in my own subtle way, and this time, Brad opened up. He and Ali have been drifting apart, at least as far as he’s concerned. She loves the city and even suggested they live there; he doesn’t want that. She doesn’t get his sense of humor. She’s high-maintenance, cold and doesn’t love dogs. He’s seen what else is out there, female-wise, and feels there might be something better for him. He specifically mentioned Ali’s friend, Rachel, who, although she has a boyfriend, I gather is more his type. Then Brad said something that surprised me, “I know how you really feel about her, Mom, and your opinion matters a lot to me.” WOW! Of course, if Ali is the one Brad wants, I won’t stand in the way. As I said in my last entry, ironically, I’ve made up my mind to accept her! No matter what it takes! Of course, my timing is terrible, because it looks like Brad doesn’t want to marry her anymore. He said to me, “I love her, but I’m not IN love with her.” In that case, I think they should just put the relationship out of its misery. Ali, I think, is holding onto it for dear life because she loves Brad and has an idealistic view of marrying her first lover, her first love, and that’s all there is to it. The fact that he doesn’t feel the same, that he isn’t sure, apparently, doesn’t bother her—or if it does, she’s overlooking it. The results will be disastrous—so they can marry only to divorce, perhaps after children have been born and will be hurt by their separation?

Brad has made these feelings known to Ali, but she is committed to him and wants them to get married. Which puts him in a tough spot. She’ll be devastated if he breaks up with her, but wouldn’t that be better than getting married when love isn’t equal on both sides?

I told Dan about all this, and believe it or not, HE is the one reacting in the worst possible way. He couldn’t sleep, he’s very worried about both Brad and Ali and the outcome of all this, and he was hoping the kids would marry so Doris and Sidney would be alive to know about it. WTF? Dan was also looking forward to being a grandfather, which I consider the least important aspect of all this, but he seems very disturbed by it. I wish I hadn’t brought him into my confidence. He shared it with Mike, too, which displeased me, but he needed to talk to his best friend about it.

I want my son to be happy. One thing about Ali that I DO like is that she doesn’t have a problem with Brad’s diabetes. Not every woman would be willing to take on a man with a chronic illness like that. She has always been cool about it. Another woman Brad might fall in love with could very well say, “Sorry, not interested. You might become incapacitated down the line and I don’t want to deal with that.” Of course, that can happen to any of us as old age creeps up, but with diabetes, problems are much more likely.

I have been very worried about SUPERNATURAL since the writers’ strike started. All of the TV shows have stopped production, including SPN (on 12/5), and no one knows what’s going to happen, but it looks like a long haul. Some fear the CW will go out of business as a result, but one of my correspondents reminded me it’s owned by Warner Bros., not the CW, which could shop it around to another network. Right now, it appears we’re only getting half a third season and no resolution to Dean’s Crossroads Deal. That sucks!

Anyway, you know I will be at the forefront of supporting the show through Warner Bros., getting SUPERNATURAL on another network if it comes to that, but I am not one of those who will jump on a pre-emptive strike before we even realize one is necessary. I don't want to start clamoring now for a fourth season unless we hear stirrings that we might not get one. It's so stressful not knowing what's going to happen!

I just keep remembering the presentation to Jensen and Jared of those military coins in Chicago and how soldiers wanted to see SUPERNATURAL above all other DVD's. That HAS to mean something, even though I noticed it didn't get anywhere near the press it should have. I still see GREY's, OFFICE and CSI getting press ad nauseum, over and over, covers and star stories, and it just makes me ill. I refused to renew my Entertainment Weekly subscription because of their lack of coverage of SPN, and told them exactly why. I've also written a few nasty e-mails to the TV reporters at NEWSDAY, my local paper, complaining of the same thing, threatening to stop getting the paper for the same reason. They, too, seem to only cover the popular 5-6 shows. I e-mailed the two top NEWSDAY TV reporters about the Chicago Con and the coins the boys received, but never saw anything about it. I can't tell you how much that pissed me off!

I know I exercised over the weekend, Saturday, I think. Dan and Mike went to the movies together to see an action flick, and I stayed home to go on the computer. One of my SPN Live Journal pals made me a 22-song grouping to add to my Ipod, many excellent choices for me to exercise to. I added most of them to my Ipod and look forward to exercising to them in the near future. Another gal who promised to take my Vancouver photos of me with Jensen and Jared and turn them into a collage, however, never sent me anything despite several e-mails asking about it, and I’m wondering if she just stole my pictures to sell on eBay or something. I sure hope not. I was really looking forward to that collage!

That’s enough for the holiday edition of this blog! Hope Santa was good to all of you. As far as I’m concerned, getting a car and a trip to Vancouver to meet the J’s was all I needed in 2007!

Love, Robin

I am now moved to my new desk. Not only is it smaller than my old one, but the first one people see when they enter the office. I was actually able to get Gary to sign off on a privacy monitor screen for my computer, but it really doesn’t do enough. Gary came up behind me today when I was on my POSTAL e-mail. There’s a gal who sends out all these awww kinds of non-postal videos to us, and I happened to be watching one of those when he peered over my shoulder. “Is that postal?” he barked. “It was sent to me by a postal person,” I replied calmly, although what I wanted to do was split his skull down the bald center with a baseball bat.

In the meantime, Connie, junior to me in all ways, gets a private office with windows! Gary apparently intends to keep an eye on me as often as possible. I just might either go nuts or kill him. I’m just not used to being treated like shut, and don’t feel I deserve it.

Therapy this week was fascinating. I told Tracey about how I often escaped home and had dinner with Cheryl and her family. I loved it there. They treated me well, even seemed to love me. Yet I had no idea that Jackie was beating Sharon with a hairbrush or that Cheryl was forcing her to do her chores instead of doing them herself. In other words, these people, offering solace and sanctuary to me, were being cruel to Sharon—and I had no idea. I was crying hard as I related this to Tracey, who seemed to think I was projecting my feelings toward my mother on the Kallems, that my very strong feelings toward them were how I REALLY felt toward my mom. Because I kept insisting I loved my mother in spite of everything. Which I did. I remember all the good times, too—going to the movies with her, then to dinner, and times when she was neither manic nor depressed. I remember us going to Jolly Roger, having lunch, then I played games and went on rides while she stayed in the cafeteria drinking coffee. It wasn’t all bad, but I guess the bad sticks out more in my mind than the good, which is unfortunate.

Am I wrong, or has my life had more bad than good in it? Have I been unluckier than most, or does it just seem that way? I have one kid, just one—and he gets diabetes. My whole family gets diabetes, including me and my in-laws! My mother gets cancer and dies at 60. My father dies even younger than she of a stroke. Despite my education and above-average intelligence, I end up with a crappy dead-end job with the Postal Service and a manager that treats me like shit. I marry a guy who, though he’s kind, sweet and smart, also ends up in a dead-end job with crappy pay and is treated like shit. My sex life has been non-existent for more years than I care to count and was really never any good anyway—and I stayed a virgin until I was 23 and engaged! I’ve never done drugs or been addicted to anything but television shows, both in the horror genre. I hurt my back when I was 15, was paralyzed at 19, had surgery when I was 20, and have suffered ever since. At this point in my life, I think it’s safe to say I hurt EVERYWHERE.

Oh, allow me to interrupt my litany of woes to tell you about my visit to Dr. Salama yesterday. He’s my neurologist. He examined me, spoke to me, took me off some meds (including one, Topamax, that’s apparently responsible for my flibbertigibbetedness, forgetting stuff and just being plain weird), put me on a brand-new one, Lyrica, that’s going to cost me a $50 co-pay, and told me while I have the SYMPTOMS of neuropathy, I don’t have the damage of neuropathy. I guess that’s good, but the pain I’m experiencing is very real. So I will stop taking Neurontin and Elavil and start taking Lyrica, hoping, of course, that they don’t find out THIS drug does bad things to the heart, liver or any other vital organs. It’s supposed to be great for people with my kind of pain. I guess we’ll find out—at a very steep co-pay price!

I also saw the dentist this week—Monday. I had gone last Monday, but that was Brad’s appointment, not mine. See what I mean about flibbertigibbetness? My brain just keeps short-circuiting! The dental hygienist spent 45 minutes scaling my teeth. It was awful. I’m sure she did a wonderful job, but I was very uncomfortable, just wanting to go home and look at my SUPERNATURAL stuff on the internet.

Last night, after the doctor, I had to pick up Brad’s cookie platter from Subway, then stop at Mary’s to get a pizza for Dan and me. I was so tired, I actually fell asleep watching SUPERNATURAL! But it was a rerun, so I can watch it on the DVR. I was just too exhausted from all the running around. Plus I went to the Babylon HIP because I was able to see Salama earlier than in Hicksville. I got a little bit lost going home—but I made it!

Yesterday morning, I awakened earlier than usual and tried to awaken Bugsy to come downstairs. He didn’t like that and growled a warning at me. When I persisted in trying to pick him up, he bit my hand, so badly it bled for quite a while. It swelled up while I was at work and I had to keep putting ice on it. It was also still bleeding and I had to replace the bloody bandage. Fun and games. Why do we keep him, you ask? Because we love him. Why do we love him? Sometimes I wonder.

Love, Robin

Today is my 54th birthday! Wow, that sounds old. I came into work today wearing deer antlers on my head with bells on them! Every time I shake my head, I hear the ringing. Weird. I keep telling everyone I’m 24, just like my son, and if he has a problem with it, he’s a math whiz, let him figure it out!

Connie brought in a chocolate cake from Cosco for me and Charlie, and cards signed by everyone (yes, even Gary, who wished me a happy birthday today). We haven’t been speaking at all to each other, and he’s making me move to a desk that’s right out in the open so I can be seen by everyone who comes into the office. I think he wants to watch where I go on the internet, but I’m sure there are ways around that! It’s just going to be such a hassle to move from where I am to another desk, with all the crap I have to get rid of here! Oh, and Connie’s getting her own office across the hall, with a window! She’ll be Gary’s private secretary, and his buffer between him and the outside world. Never mind that I’m senior to her and should have been given the opportunity first, she didn’t get the job she wanted in Dispatch, and the little princess MUST be made happy! Never mind that I, the QUEEN, am miserable! I don’t count for shit; that is obvious!

We finally had a new episode of SUPERNATURAL, after a month of waiting. “A Very Supernatural Christmas” was the title, and it was filled with gore, pagan lore, brotherly angst, torture, Weechesters and their sad Christmas past, the revelation of where Dean’s amulet came from, and a bittersweet ending involving Sam giving Dean what could be his last Christmas before death and hell claim him “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” played over that final scene "Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow, hang a shining star upon the highest bough, and have yourself a merry little Christmas now." I was sobbing like a baby throughout Dean and Sam's little Christmas celebration, because apparently, Sam no longer believes he's going to be able to save Dean, and this is their last Christmas together. The fates will not allow them anymore Christmases together--and that sucks. What sucks even more is, thanks to the blasted writers’ strike, still going on after six weeks, the next new ep of the show won’t be until January 31! Shit!!!!

When I saw Tracey Tuesday, we discussed how my mom was so depressed after my birth, she had to be hospitalized and was given shock treatments. Which meant that a nurse was caring for me instead of my own mother. I have no idea how long it was before Mom came home to take care of me, but Tracey hypothesized that I missed bonding with my mother at a crucial stage of development, which explains why I feel unloved now, am always seeking everyones’ approval now, and always want everyone to love me now. When she pointed that out to me, I started to cry. Why? I felt sorry for myself! When I’m sitting on Tracey’s couch, talking about poor Robin whose mother wasn’t there when she was a newborn, or Robin who as a teenager had to be a mother to her own fucked-up mother, or Robin who needed therapy the first two weeks away at college because every time she went to take a bath was so afraid to be alone with her thoughts, she nearly went into panic mode and kept those baths really short, I feel so terrible for myself, I just cry! THAT was a run-on sentence.

I suppose it was some sort of REVELATION, or BREAK-THROUGH. I don’t know. But whatever, it’s just another brick in the wall of the weird, ugly and fucked-up life I had and have to dredge up each week in order to “get healthy.” When I told Tracey how angry I was at myself for forgetting Sharon’s birthday, she didn’t seem to understand my own anger at myself, and why I called myself stupid for my forgetfulness. Truth is, I’m harder on myself than any people around me are when I make mistakes, and my mind always wanders backwards, ticking back through them, over and over. When I think back on embarrassing things I’ve done in the past, I am just so furious with myself all over again! I never let up on myself for past errors, and continually browbeat myself for them. I truly am my own worst enemy.

I asked Dan not to get me anymore jewelry, but when I awakened this morning at 4 AM, I went downstairs to watch SUPERNATURAL again (I actually got Lucy, the gal who calls in equipment orders from Verizon, to watch SUPERNATURAL last night, and she liked it so much, she’s going to keep watching!), I found his card and a lovely birthstone necklace. Why do I even talk to him? Does he ever listen?

On my way home, I have to stop at the post office to mail the special Christmas cards I made for SUPERNATURAL fans on my mailing lists. I used photos of me with Jensen and Jared to create cards and wrote on the other side. I can use postcard rate, but I have one going to England and another to Canada, so those will be more expensive, I guess. I would have taken care of it yesterday, but it was raining and snowing and the roads were slick and dangerous, so I just went home instead. Winter has started out with a bang!

Love, Robin

I don’t know what’s going on, but Connie hasn’t been leaving to have lunch with her husband this week. I wonder if Gary has told her to stop doing that? Between bringing in Jimmy last week on Thursday and Friday to take over John’s job instead of letting me do it and Connie not going to lunch on office time, I can’t help but wonder if Gary isn’t making sure I don’t have a case against him in case I do go ahead with my REDRESS EEO. Since I haven’t even started the ball rolling on that, he has nothing to worry about—yet—but still, there’s the past to be considered. I’ve filled in for John for years already, and he’s allowed Connie to take her lunch on the clock for a long time, too, so why stop it now?

So with Connie and Gary off all last week, it was quiet and nice here. Gary’s wife was operated on for a cancerous lump in her breast, and I gather all she needed was a lumpectomy. It didn’t metastasize, though. Don’t quote me, though. She might have needed more, but I have no idea exactly. I just feel like all my wishing ill on Gary turned around and got his poor wife instead. Which I know is ridiculous, but I feel like I should home my evil thoughts in on Gary himself more, you know? Just in case.

Connie’s been in a piss-poor mood, though. She put in for a job opening as Dispatch Clerk. She’s fed up with giving so much of herself in this office, and I guess watching how little I have to do now that my TIMES responsibilities are gone has gotten her jealous, too. Never mind that the woman mostly reads books and does a lot of net-surfing, too, she’s the PRINCESS, at least in her own mind, and she should have less work to do than I, not more! Anyway, they found some way of not letting her get the Dispatch Clerk job. Why? Because they don’t want to let her leave here. She’s made herself too valuable and Gary loves her too much. That’ll teach her. As I told my shrink this week, I used to BE Connie, and all it got me was grief. When I got “caught” in Transportation and was banished to the VMF for two years that nearly killed me, the only concern everyone around me had was not being dragged down with me. They just wanted me to make sure I erased anything personal I’d typed for them so they wouldn’t get into trouble, too. Such nice, selfless people, huh? Bastards!

During my discussion with Tracey, I realized I’ve always wanted people to like me. So I joke around, try to be a fun person, bring in things to eat, give gifts, all in my efforts to be liked. I remember Meg, the blond bitch from Exposition Press, my first job. She hated me, but probably because we were nearly the same age and I was better looking than she was, and had a college degree. She made my life there so miserable, but I let her, didn’t I?

Here, it’s Gary. He’s my villain. Of course, I don’t care if he likes me or not, but I hate that he has the power over any merit awards I do or don’t get, and his feelings toward me are personal, which means his dislike negates my getting ANYTHING. That’s just not fair. Yet he knows I have little work to do, and that I spend a huge amount of time on the net doing non-postal things. He can technically use that knowledge to fire me, if he so desires. And yet, HE writes sermons on work time, which is just as wrong as what I do, right? I at least look like I’m working, anyway. And when there is work to do, I do it—and very well, too! Gary just pisses people off.

My birthday is eight days away now. I’ll be 54. Wow, that sounds like a lot of years. I’ve already surpassed my father’s age, but he didn’t live long at all. Poor guy. With his type A personality, it’s no surprise he had a stroke at a young age. Now we have to see if I can live longer than Mom’s 60 years, which was also way too young to die.

When I saw Phil, our union rep for Motor Vehicle Ops., I dragged him aside and reminded him of the day Connie, who was NOT part of the MVO craft, yet was awarded MY old job over ME! Imagine THAT! Phil was sent to the VMF to warn me not to challenge it because they wanted CONNIE, not me, and I should just stay at the VMF and shut up. Except that I was so miserable at the VMF (where I had two female enemies and one male enemy, I’d hit the jackpot), I couldn’t stay there, and ended up filing a REDRESS against my supervisor and manager so I could get my ass out of there before I had a real heart attack (as it was, I ended up in the hospital with a panic attack).

After the REDRESS, at which I swabbed the floor with both my manager and supervisor, I told the mediator I wanted out of that department. A few weeks later, on December 7, 1998, I returned to Trans/Net, not in Connie’s job, but in the other clerk’s job, working Drop Shipments. I managed to return to working with my former co-workers with nary a ripple, thanks to careful attitude on my part, just acting as if I’d been on a two year vacation and was glad to be back with them. I slid smoothly back into the swing of the office, with only Connie to charm and finesse. That took time, but eventually, even she grudgingly began to tolerate, if not like me.

But when I saw Phil the other day, I reminded him about how Connie stole my job away almost 10 years ago, and now SHE wanted out of it and they wouldn’t let her go! What goes around DOES come around, in its own good time, and I was very glad to see Connie unhappy for a change. The princess isn’t getting what she wants, poor baby! Awwwwwww! Sorry, no sympathy here, none at all! Because she got what should have gone to me, with no qualms!

I told all this to Tracey, who says I should figure out what I want NOW and go for it. I want to get up and do a comedy act at a mic night. I want to sign up to be an extra on TV and in movies. That’s what I want. Now I just have to do it, don’t I? I just might have to wait, though. With the writers’ strike and the fact that I’m still working here, I wouldn’t have the time to pursue what I’d really like to pursue. And the writing, too—I want to write LYING IN WAIT because I think it would be a bestseller and I think the movie would be a huge thriller hit!

Love, Robin

I've been so terrible at keeping up my blog, haven't I? Once a week? Terrible. But at least I'm writing a LOT when I do write. I had a four day weekend, and you know what I DIDN'T do? Take a nap! Not once! I don't know why, it isn't like I've been sleeping all that well. But I still haven't been napping.

Thursday Dan more or less cooked Thanksgiving dinner. I say more or less because with his hurting knees and feet, I had to help out, but I usually do anyway. He wanted me to taste the stuffing, check the turkey, etc. Austin joined us for dinner, and everything was delicious--stuffing, corn, potatoes, gravy, pecan pie with whipped cream. I went shopping for a while at Walgreens and bought Dan some inexpensive sweatshirts and chocolate candy bars for all of us.

Black Friday! I've never gotten up super early to wait on line at a store before on this crazy day, but when I saw Walmart offering a portable DVD player for only $50, I figured they probably had a limited number and I'd better get there way ahead of the 5 AM opening. So I arrived in the parking lot and got on line about 4:30. It turned out to be a lot of fun. I was joking around with other people waiting on line, laughing, dancing around to stay warm (it was balmy on Thanksgiving day, but grew frigid overnight).

Once we were allowed inside, there was a made dash, of course, but nothing like the knock-dowm drag-out mess I feared. CW news was there, so I exposed my SUPERNATURAL t-shirt as I made my way through the door and up the stilled escalators. They had plenty of the low-priced DVD player, which I grabbed from the stack, then paid for on a mercifully short line. However, as I fought my way through a dense crowd to return downstairs, I found the men's and women's eight and nine dollar jeans in short supply in mine and my husband's sizes. I found only one pair in my size after trying on several pair in the oddly quiet dressing rooms. To my dismay, I had to buy a size larger that I expected, and wondered if they were cut small or my body was suddenly cut larger.

I haven't weighed myself lately.

When I got home, Dan and I headed out together to Circuit City. We were going to have to wait on a long line outside there, too (the store was already open, but they couldn't let in more than the store's capacity), but Dan was limping really badly. A friend of his who works there spotted him and invited us right in, which was great, but after we shopped and bought a whole bunch of DVD's (GILMORE GIRLS, SMALLVILLE, amongst others), we waited over an hour on line to pay! When we got to the registers, finally, it was to learn that items weren't coming up their sale prices, AND THESE ASSHOLES WERE ASKING EVERYONE THEIR PHONE NUMBERS AND ADDRESSES--ON BLACK FRIDAY!! We expressed our annoyance over that, not that it did any good, but it felt good to tell them what idiots they were. We also wanted to check out a camera there, but the guy in the department said he couldn't "get at it" with the lines of people snaking around the store. So we weren't thrilled with Circuit City on many levels! We ended up ordering the camera online through Walmart, the same camera Mary had in Vancouver that took such excellent photos. By the way, I've signed up to go to Orlando, Florida in April to see Jared Padalecki and others from SUPERNATURAL (not Jensen yet) at EyeCon. I'm rooming with Amy, a gal from one of the lists I'm on.

I'm having terrible pains in my feet, diabetic neuropathy, I guess. I made an appointment today with Dr. Salama, my neuro doc. Originally, they said I couldn't see him until January 2, but I called the other HIP center and was able to get an appointment for December 20 instead. I can barely take my walks, and even the music isn't overcoming the pain much anymore!

It seems to me that most of the weekend was spent shopping--and primarily at different Walmarts! I bought some two-shelf units, still attempting to organize my house. Forget it. I don't know why I bother.

Sunday, Dan and Mike went to see THE MIST, a movie based on a Stephen King novella. I had awakened with a fierce headache that didn't dissipate all day, so I begged off the movie and instead went shopping for what I hoped would be a brief jaunt to a couple of stores. Instead, it took me over two hours to go from Walmart to Target to Cosco. Dan, Mike, Brad and I had an early dinner at Corner Galley, a nice time.

Saturday night, Ali came over to see Brad. I went upstairs to say hi to her and quietly asked when she and Brad were getting engaged. "Ask your son," she said. Huh? Apparently, every time she brings up the subject, Brad gets annoyed with her. She feels that, since they've been going out five years and the wedding she wants is going to take a long time to plan, they could at least get engaged now, if not married. I took her into my arms, hugged her, and said, "I'd love to have you for my daughter in law!" She hugged me back and seemed very happy. Now I've never said those words to her, and quite honestly, I was feeling sorry for her, thinking that my son isn't treating her very well all of a sudden. I was wondering what the hell is going on?

The next day, Brad was working in his office and I went in to say good morning to him. He asked me what I was taking to Ali about the night before; he'd overheard enough of it to know it was about him and about "something serious." Point blank, I asked, "Brad, do you want to get engaged to Ali?" And his answer floored me: "I don't know."

I had a thousand more questions poised on the tip of my tongue, as any mother would. But this is Brad, and you don't press Brad. If you do, you get shut out, an angry retort. So I said, "I'm here for you if you want to talk. I love you more than anything in the world, you know that, don't you?" He acknowledged that he did, and I left the room. When I tried talking to Dan about it speculating on everything from he's met another girl to he's decided he's gay, my husband won't indulge me in discussing it. He insists that doing this only frustrates me because only Brad knows and he's not talking.

So, what can I do? I texted Sharon and we're going out Friday. I need to discuss this with someone! And I know she'll listen and let me talk about it as much as I need to. She won't shut me down the way Dan does.

Here I've been assuming Brad and Ali are getting married, fretting because I'm not all that thrilled with her, and now that I've gotten myself into a place where I'm accepting her, he isn't sure?

I talked it all over with Tracey yesterday in therapy. She thinks I'm identifying with Ali about the five years she's invested in her relationship with Brad, like my mother invested 20 years in her relationship with Emery.

It's all such a mess!

Love, Robin