The Tale of Dishonest Abe aka Another Dating Adventure

Well… I have another dating tale… I recently dipped my toes into the dating pool, as usual, giving only a half-hearted effort because frankly, online dating/dating in general doesn’t seem worth my time and energy. I had a few men contact me from the site and while some were ruled out rather quickly there was one that actually progressed to texting: enter Dishonest Abe.

At first contact Dishonest Abe seemed intelligent and capable of maintaining a reasonable conversational flow. His profile was severely lacking but the messaging aspect seemed decent. The first night we were texting involved all the normal getting to know you questions including my two least favorite questions, “Why are you still single?”   and “Have you dated x race before/do you date outside of your race?” HELLO!!! I’m on a DATING site! I’m talking to you! So clearly I must be ok with dating outside of my race or I wouldn’t respond to your contact.

When Dishonest Abe asked me why I was still single, I gave him the usual answer, “I guess I haven’t met the right man yet,” and then I turned out and asked him why he was still single. He said he’d just been waiting on me… Awwww. *rolls eyes* Since it was such a standard cheesy answer I decided to be sarcastic so I asked him if we were going to jump right into marriage or if he planned on us dating first. He decided we should date first, definitely, and know each other really well before getting married. That was a least a reasonable answer. As the conversation continued I mentioned my younger sister’s upcoming wedding. Dishonest Abe asked me when she was getting married and I told him. He responded with, “That’s cool, you and I are getting married in May 2018.” Strangely enough, commitment- phobe that I am, I found the conversation silly and amusing, so I went along with it.

Dishonest Abe happened to be black and as I mentioned, we had the conversation about one dating outside of their race. With the pivotal questions out of the way, I figured that things would progress as we get to know each other. At this point it was 10:30PM on a Sunday night and Dishonest Abe wanted to meet up. Somehow jumping in my car to meet up with someone I had just started texting didn’t seem like a good plan. I told him I was tired and heading to bed soon.

Throughout the week, we continued texting here and there, joking about our impending nuptials and getting to know one another. We had made plans to go out Saturday evening for our first date. He even told me that he deleted his dating profile which seemed unnecessary since we hadn’t gone on a single date yet. Of course since he put that out there, I had to check, and the only thing he deleted was his pictures from the profile, the profile itself was still there.

Wednesday night, Dishonest Abe and I were texting when he sends me the ominous message, “I have to tell you something,” to which my mind went into overdrive trying to guess what he might have to tell me. I was certainly not prepared for his revelation. “I’m African.” I responded with, “Ok…?” He said, “Well some people don’t like to date outside of their race, so I’m just putting it out there.” I was struck with a sense of déjà vu, hadn’t we already covered this conversation Sunday night? I mentioned to him, “We already discussed this. I have dated black guys before, you’ve dated white girls before.” He responds with, “ I know, just saying. but I wanted u to know that.” We move past that weird conversation that left me scratching my head. I shared the conversation with a couple friends, my mom, and my sister the next day. All of us were laughing over it and we all came to the same two concussions: 1. Either he is talking to multiple women and didn’t remember that he and I already had the race conversation or 2. He was trying to say he was like, straight from Africa (but then, wouldn’t he name the country he was from rather than the entire continent?). Anyway…

Friday was my day off but I knew Dishonest Abe was working so I waited for him to text me. That evening he did contact me, the standard, “Hi how are you,” stuffs but then he makes another confusing proclamation. For one to fully appreciate this conversation I think I need to share it, as it happened:

DA: Hi.. how r u

ME: Good. How are you?

DA: Sick bad

ME: Oh no!!! I’m sorry to hear that

DA: Yes since in the morning


ME: That sucks!

DA: I’m sorry. I could not eat

ME: Huh?

DA: I mean we could not meet today

ME: Well we weren’t meeting today. We were supposed to meet tomorrow…

DA: I know just letting u know

ME: You’re just letting me know that we can’t go out tonight when we never had plans for tonight? It really feels like you’re confusing me at times with someone else…

DA: I know is tomorrow. . I said I’m not feeling good. That way if I’m still sick . tomorrow we may or may not

ME: I see

DA: Yes madame

ME: Yes you said you’re not feeling good but why tell me we can’t meet today? Unless you were meeting someone else today and can’t keep your ladies straight.

DA: I am a one man lady … besides I am too old to play games It doesn’t get u anywhere I’m just telling u out of respect.

At this point, while I was highly entertained I was also over it. Besides, I don’t want to date a ‘one man lady,’ I want to date a one lady man. Saturday came and went without a word from Dishonest Abe but then again, he was ‘sick bad,’ so I wasn’t surprised. Usually at this point I would block a failed dating attempt to prevent further contact but I suspected there may be a little more entertainment value left with this one.

Sure enough, he contacted me Tuesday evening. There was no mention of the date that didn’t happen or the lack of communication from Friday to Tuesday. Being the asshole that I am, I text him, “So I guess Saturday was ‘may not’ huh?” He reiterated that he was ‘sick bad’ and apologized. I told him it was helpful the way he canceled the non-existent Friday plans as a heads up that we wouldn’t go out on Saturday. At that point he text with, ‘how r u my love,’ and as I was know home sick with a stomach bug I didn’t have the energy to play along any more. I told him I wasn’t his anything and wished him luck. Immediate blocking happened right after I hit send.

I think I will stick with my back up plan, which is stay single, adopt about 3 more cats, and drink all the wine while having a great time hanging out with my family and friends. Dating is certainly overrated.online dating.jpeg

Changes

For anyone who has been following my blog for awhile, you know I’m kind of obsessed with my furry critters. If you’ve been to my blog recently you may have noticed that the header, “Meet the Boys,” has been removed. I’ve decided to give my critters their own website/blog. Info on my critters and their adventures will now be found at http://www.damnlittleshits.com/

I will continue to post and update this blog as well but it will be more on my feminist tirades, mental health experiences, dating, life, etc. All the cute and cuddly and critter focused content will be on its own blog of happy cuteness.

Drunken Idiot AKA I’m Still Angry

The other night a good friend and I met up at a bar. Once upon a time this bar used to be an Italian restaurant my grandparents took me to which is probably why I have a fondness for this location. In the ensuing years it has changed hands and names several times over. Its latest incarnation is a ‘bar and grille’ with an Italian sounding name. As it has changed I’ve visited  a couple of times, finding the food tasty and the prices decent which is why I suggested it as a place to meet up with my friend.

We arrived around 9pm on a Friday night, looking forward to the low key atmosphere of a dive bar. Friday was also Tiger’s opening day which is practically a holiday in the Detroit area and a popular excuse for people to get drunk. Allie and I did not participate in any of the drunken baseball-themed shenanigans. We were two gals looking to have a drink, a little food, and a lot of catching up.

When we sat down at a four top table we saw a gentlemen sitting alone out of the corner of our eyes. The bar was rather small and most of its inhabitants were clustered around a large hightop table. There was a couple sitting at the table adjacent to Allie and I, and another couple at the bar, which left the lone dude at the nearby table. We noticed him try to catch our attention but we both ignored him and started chatting. He got up at one point and we were certain he was coming to our table but he passed us by. We breathed a sigh of relief as neither of us were looking to engage outsiders in conversation.

Our relief was short lived as he soon approached our table. It is not unusual for Allie to be hit on, she’s gorgeous and I’ve never known a woman to get hit on as much as she does. I mean, who else has the man in the car ahead of her at a drive thru pay for her co-

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image from shutterstock.com

ffee and leave his number? Drunken Idiot (the nicest name I can give him) came over and tried to chat her up, he offered to buy her beer. Initially I think he offered to buy both of our drinks but when Allie shut him down his attention focused on her. She was sarcastic, as is her nature, and told him she could pay for her own $2 beer. He was insistent, as drunken idiots in bars tend to be, and started rambling about buying her drink as he pulls out a wad of cash. The wad seemed to be mainly fives and ones though I didn’t look that close. I was more interested in the fact this moron, hitting on my friend, had a wedding ring on his finger. Still not interested in him buying her a drink, Allie said to him, “Are you sure? I mean that’s two hundred pennies. That is a lot of pennies,” hoping her sarcasm would give him the hint.

Instead, Drunken Idiot put a five down on the table, looked at me, and instructed me to use it to pay for her beer. I agreed, and did what I usually do, slap on my customer service personality,  be nice and agreeable in the hopes that you’ll leave me alone and not shoot me. Am I paranoid? Maybe. However there’s been a lot of senseless gun violence so I trust no one.

He eventually left our table and our waitress/bartender appeared to take the food order. Drunken idiot came back at that point, rambled on to me about how Allie thought he couldn’t afford to buy her drink but he could afford it. He shrugged as he said he had the money to buy her a drink, blah blah blah. When the waitress left he confronted Allie and accused her of being racist. A logical conclusion to draw from her not wanting him to buy her a drink… (Drunken Idiot is black and Allie and I are both white). He held his hands out in front of her, gestured with one hand at the other, as he mumbled something about how she shouldn’t judge. He turned to me and said that she judged him. I tried to assure him that she hadn’t, she is just very sarcastic. He finally left. Again.

Allie and I went back to our conversation. She had some exciting changes happening in her life, we were both catching up on our (generally) abysmal dating lives, and commiserating about how neither of us know what to do with an actual nice guy (not Drunken Idiot). Shortly after our pizza arrived, another guy came up to hit on Allie on behalf of his friend who was “too shy,” to come over. Guy #1 called Guy #2 over. They chat with Allie and apologized for interrupting our meal. Guy #2 declared himself too old for Allie but let us know we were both invited to his 50th birthday. They went back to their table (the hightop full of people) and Allie and I once again hoped to get back to catching up.

Drunken Idiot thought this was the perfect time to re-approach. He gestured at his $5 still sitting on the table and looked at me. I told him we hadn’t cashed out yet but I would use it for its intended purpose. He rambled on about how he raised two daughters who were both teachers and acted like that was a challenge of some sorts to Allie. He slapped another $5 on the table to signify he could afford to drop more money, I guess. At this point in the evening Allie decided that ignoring him would be the best option. He talked to her and she refused to respond. He looked at me and started asking me questions about her which I tried to answer as vaguely as possible. He then put his arm around me and started to tell the both of us that I needed to teach Allie, I was nice, I needed to teach her. He kissed my temple which, combined with the spitting on my face as he spoke, really got on my nerves.

Finally I decided to be a bit more assertive and told Drunken Idiot we were there for girls night and only wanted to catch up. I hoped that he would get the message and finally leave us alone for good. He kept talking. Allie repeated, in a more assertive tone than I, that we were there for girls night, we hadn’t seen each other in months, we wanted to catch up, and we didn’t want to talk to him. (God I love how ballsy she is!). He determined that we were going to continue to talk to him, at which point Allie flat out asked him to leave us alone. I can still hear her saying, “Can you please just leave us alone?” He refused so Allie said, “Fine, then we’re leaving,” and grabbed her things from the table. I collected my things, leapt out of my chair and followed her. The waitress/bartender stopped Allie, who had been in the lead, and immediately asked what Drunken Idiot had said and offered to go talk to him. Allie told her we wanted to cash out and go. The waitress tried to get more info but Allie wouldn’t give anything else and headed to the bathroom. With Allie gone, I told the waitress that Drunken Idiot wouldn’t leave us alone and accused Allie of being racist when she wouldn’t accept his offer to buy her a drink. The waitress turned on her heels and said she was going to go talk to him. I stopped her and asked her not to, asked her to cash us out and let us leave. Guy #1 came over to cash out at the same time and apologized for his buddy. I still don’t know if he was referring to Guy #2 or the Drunken Idiot. The Drunken Idiot had been hanging out with Guy #1’s crowd and dancing with the women at that table.

Allie and I left angry at Drunken Idiot’s insistence of interrupting our night.We were going to try going somewhere else but decided we should just head to my house at that point. We didn’t want to risk meeting another drunk asshat.

Two days later and I’m still angry. I’m angry that Drunken Idiot felt so entitled to our time and attention. I’m angry that I didn’t have the balls like Allie to just shut him down. I’m angry that I allowed him to put his arm around me and that, in his drunken state, he thought it was ok to kiss my temple. I’m angry that I’m afraid to assert myself in situations like that because of possible violent repercussions. I am angry that in todays’ age, we still live in a world where people think they can get in someone else’s space and not leave them alone. Yep,
I’m still angry.

Discoveries Made While Working From Home

Since December I have been blessed to be able to work from home. My family was a little concerned about me accepting a work from home position. They were afraid I’d turn into a hermit. Other work from home friends said showering would fall to the wayside. I’ve found that in some ways there is a little stigma about working from home. Well, I am happy to report that I have not morphed into a hermit and I  still shower regularly. I am LOVING working from home. I’ve wanted to work from home since I was 20 years old. I just never thought there was a legitimate way to do it. Anyway, here are my discoveries about working from home:

  • if it involves wearing a bra, it’s a fancy day
  • if I do my make-up look out world! (or it is team meeting day and I will be seen by other people)
  • being home with my babies while I work is the best! Except for when they are being a pain
  • while I may be at home and in my pjs all day, I am most certainly working, I have scheduled shifts, scheduled breaks, etc.
  • working from home does not make me want to leap out of bed in the morning to start work, I still miss my bed when I have to leave it
  • despite staring at a computer screen all day, I still use my personal technology a lot
  • once I leave my office, I am done, work day is over
  • breaks are great times for switching out loads of laundry
  • I am (generally) more patient when driving now as I don’t have a time to be somewhere to clock in
  • I am also (generally) more patient of people in stores, though sometimes I still get road rage in the grocery store
  • my body does NOT like sitting for 10 hours a day
  • chiropractors are very helpful for when your body rebels IMG_0213

Introducing Oliver

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Oliver checking out Frankie

 

This post is rather late in coming but I need to officially welcome Sir Oliver into my family. While I’ve always enjoyed cute and friendly cats that belonged to other people, I did not, personally have great success with them. In fact, I swore I’d never have a cat. I would tell anyone who’d listen that cats were a-holes and who needed them? If friends of my mine had friendly kitties, well, I just adored them. Still, I didn’t want a cat for myself that I had to take care of until,  one day, I did.

For months Valarie (the roommate) and I would joke about bringing home a kitten. If the dogs did something annoying we’d say to the other, “Did you get a kitten yet?” If one of us went to the store we’d joke, “Bring home a kitten please.” This went on for some time but without much intent behind it. Then I reached out to a friend who is in charge of adoptions at a local rescue that I adore (the friend and the rescue). I  knew when I did that, I would soon have a cat.

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Sleeping buddies

I expressed all of my concerns to this friend, what if it has a high prey drive? Frankie is so small. Dane is so old and crabby. Milo is very energetic and gets VERY excited if he sees a cat. Would a cat blend well into my household? Would I be better to get a cat or a kitten? The questions went on  and on, God bless her for her patience.

She agreed that a kitten would probably be the easiest to blend into a home with three dog. It just so happened the rescue had a rather tiny kitten that needed a new foster home by the end of the week. He was a long hair fluff ball who didn’t make sense to me in his pictures. His face was that of a tabby, striped and handsome. His body? Varying shades of grey (no, not 50 shades). I ran it past my sis, making sure she was still on board. This all happened on a Tuesday afternoon. Friday, January 8th Oliver came home.

We agreed to do a foster- to- adopt. This way all the critters would get a few weeks to get to know each other and see if it was a good fit all the way around. (I would HIGHLY recommend fostering to adopt if you’re considering adding an animal to your home but not sure if you/they are ready.) My friend had told me he was a sweetheart and that I would melt. Sure enough, the first moment I held him and he snuggled into me purring I was a goner. I text her the next morning and told her that Oliver was home.

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Oliver claims his freedom, Dane doesn’t suspect a thing.

For the first two weeks Oliver was kept in the living room, separated from the dogs by a baby gate. We did start introducing them that night, slowly and entirely supervised. Within two weeks Oliver decided he’d had enough of their separation and leapt the gate thereby claiming his freedom.

It’s been a couple of months since the little monster joined the family and I fall more and more in love with him every day. Milo was obsessed with him from the beginning and the two are the most adorable friends. Frankie is not as thrilled with Oliver mainly because Cranky Frankie likes his sleep. Oliver likes to pounce on blankets that move. It’s a disagreement we are collectively working out.  While having a kitten is a very new experience it is one I am greatly enjoying. I am sure there will be far more tales to come. I have to go for now, he just stole something off my dresser that I need to reclaim…

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Exhausted from being too darn cute!

Saying Goodbye

Wednesday, February 3rd, the day that no pet owner/parent/guardian wants to face came for me. I had to say goodbye to Dane, my first little dog, my guy, my constant companion of nearly 15 years. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

Backing up a little here, I have lost family pets before. However, with every single family pet before Dane, there was always a clear cut, medical reason that eliminated choice. Dane, of course, had to be different (and difficult).  The last year and a half or so, I’d have to guess, Dane slowed down dramatically. He went from being a perpetually spunky little sh!t to suddenly… Slower. Walks took more out of him than they once had. Heat affected him far more than it ever did before. Cold was even worse and his back end occasionally collapsed.

This past September he was diagnosed with early stage kidney disease. He had lost weight and was hunched most of the time. He was already on a joint supplement at this point. After talking with the vet we agreed that daily pain meds were now on the menu along with special food for his kidney function. My sisters (that do not live with me) had been saying for a couple months that he looked like a sad puppy but I brushed it off. “He gets nervous because Milo gets so excited when company comes over,” I’d say. That explanation made sense for the first five minutes until Milo settled in and no longer posed a threat of knocking Dane out. It didn’t explain away his not looking comfortable or the constant nervousness while people he loved were over.

Still, Dane and I trudged on. I bought him a doggy stroller (something I abhor) just so he could continue to go on walks in the neighborhood. I invested in orthopedic dog beds since he couldn’t sleep in my bed anymore for fear of him peeing it. When winter set in I even bought self heating dog beds which I put in the orthopedic bed to help soothe his arthritis.

Since December Dane’s accidents in the house had become more frequent, earning him the nickname “Mr. Puddles.” Thanks to my at home job I was able to put him outside literally every two hours (twenty-four hours a day) but even that wasn’t always enough. My sister and I would be walking around the house in our stocking feet and discover he’d left us a puddle.
I was good with all of this, the additional work of taking care of my senior dog. After all, he was my heart dog, my shadow, my constant companion. Still, I struggled internally for months wondering if it was time, or close to time for us to part ways. My dog loving friends would tell me, “When its time, you’ll know.” The thing is, unless it was a major medical calamity, I wasn’t sure how to tell…

A few weeks ago now Dane started to pee in his dog beds. Sometimes as he was sleeping in them, usually when he was trying to get out of them. I upped his pain meds to his full dose, assuming that it was pain slowing him down from getting out of the bed in time. It didn’t help. Even with going out constantly, he’d still end up peeing his dog bed as he attempted to get out of it and then ultimately crawl back in the wet bed and lay down. It broke my heart. No one deserves to lay in their own filth and no matter if I washed dog beds daily, I couldn’t keep up with him. There are 6 dog beds in my house but still he’d end up laying in urine.

I attempted bellybands but Dane could pee it within an hour. Keeping a wet bellyband against his skin didn’t seem like a wise idea. In a desperate attempt at fixing things I bought a supplement from the internet that was supposed to help with doggy incontinence. I gave him the pills twice a day for a week. I didn’t see a change.

On the one week mark, I couldn’t let him go on this way anymore. It no longer seemed fair to him. I drove my family and friends insane I am sure. Long winded texts explaining our situation and asking what they would do if they were in my shoes. Nearly everyone told me that it was time to let him go. A week before I actually did it, a couple of my close friends came over. Two women who have known Dane for several years now. They both told me he didn’t seem happy or comfortable anymore.

The night before our appointment I took Dane to Wendy’s. He has always loved french fries but for the last few years couldn’t really have them for fear of causing a pancreatitis attack. I got him fries and a plain hamburger. He devoured them! I stayed up nearly all night with him just watching him sleep. I talked to him a lot, cried a lot, pet him a lot, kissed him a lot. My dad came over that morning to go with us. We both cried before we even left my house.

At the vet’s office they took us into a really nice room set up for those last moments with your loved one. There was a couch with pillows, end tables stocked with kleenex, a fake fireplace heater, a little rock fountain. There was also a rug on the floor and a thick comforter on top of that. They wrapped Dane in a soft fleece blanket and I held him, sobbing, during his last moments here on earth. Feeling him relax, seeing his body without any of the tension I’d grown accustomed to seeing made it abundantly clear that I had done the right thing. Even my dad commented, “He hasn’t been that relaxed in years.”

His remains were delivered back home to me the very next day. The crematorium also made his little paw prints into plaster or whatever they use. I put his paw prints in my office so he is there with me, in a way. I know that I did the right thing. I know that Mr. Dane was difficult and made me measure the quality of his life to determine when it was time to let him go. He has forever changed me and I know that he isn’t far away even now.

It’s been heartbreaking and difficult adjusting to my new normal. Dane had
followed me, either physically or with his eyes, nearly every moment of the last 15 years. If I was home I was never out of his sight for long. He always knew where I was and chances are, he was right there with me. After I got home that day and my dad left, I crawled into bed with Frankie and Milo and barely moved. Oliver came in and visited now and then. I’m still not used to the fact Dane is gone. I look for him at times or think, “Oh it’s been awhile, I need to let him out,” only to remember… I don’t… Every break I took Saturday from work, I instinctively reached to lift him from his dog bed to take him outside. It will take time for me to heal but I am at peace, knowing he has found peace at last. He deserved it. Love you Daney Butt.20120908-124646.jpg

2016

It is totally bizarre to me to acknowledge the fact we are in the year 2016. As a child of the 80’s, I couldn’t fathom what the world would look like in the 2000’s. I kind of assumed daily life would be a little bit closer to the Jetsons. I’m feeling a tad cheated, where is my flying car? Despite the fact we are not at the level of the Jetsons, I’d have to say I’m pretty satisfied with where life is currently.

This year will be a year of new adventures for sure! In the beginning, of December, I accepted a position that allows me to work from home. I am now home all day with my adorable (annoying) pups. Since I am home with them while I am working, I don’t feel guilty leaving them to go out socially, or even for the sake of running errands. It’s very freeing to be able to go out and do things without this feeling of, “I’m a terrible person the dogs have been alone the entire day and I’m out again,” haunting  me.

A new position also means new challenges, which is something I was long overdue for. While I loved what I had been doing, I was also feeling stagnant. I had been doing the same thing for six years. Six years in the same position, same location. That’s the longest I have stayed put in years! I was itching for a change of some sort. Sometimes I need to jump feet first into the unknown and see where I land. So far, I’m really liking where I have landed. I also have my eye on future challenges because that is how I operate. Nothing set in stone, just ideas floating around in my head as to what I can strive for when I get too comfortable in my new role.

The second big adventure in my life is the fact I have joined a gym. My friends and siblings have tried the last several years to get me to join the gym. The idea sounded…. Awful. I knew working out would be good for me but I also knew I would pay the monthly fee and pretty much never go. I didn’t want to. It would be one more thing for me to do, another obligation outside of the house. It wasn’t happening.

Now that I am working from home, and I’m 35, and my sister’s wedding is coming up in five months (and I need to fit into my bridesmaid dress)… I’m finally ready. That’s a lot of ‘ands’ but it is where I am at. I’ve never in my life been in shape. I’ve been skinny but I didn’t work out and ate ice cream nearly every night. I’ve been overweight (which is where I am right now). I’ve occasionally tried to add some physical activity into my life or count calories or eat healthier. However, like most people, I would mentally plan out these HUGE changes and then defeat myself about two minutes into it. I would get discouraged and proclaim “I love food! I hate exercise,” to sort of placate myself as I was giving up. There is also the fact that the gym, working out, being in shape, etc is incredibly intimating to me. I feel clueless in there and I feel like a wimp. I hate not knowing what I am doing. I’ve accepted defeat too many times and given up, its time to change that.

Granted it is very early into the new year and I hate that I’m making changes in my life at such a cliched juncture but… I am four workouts in with my fifth already planned. Thanks to the help of some wonderful people I have used weight machines for the first time since it was required in high school gym class! I’m counting calories even though it hurts my soul a little (discipline is not my strong suit and I LOVE ice cream more than I should). I’m going to the gym every other day and I’m finding myself enjoying it. It’s kind of odd to be upset if I feel like I’m not sweating enough, or if I’m not feeling the burn in my muscles while doing weights. It’s also exciting.

Yes, 2016 is going to bring a lot of positive changes into my life and I can’t wait!2016.jpg