I am quickly learning that those discussions do absolutely nothing for people who are convinced of the righteousness and justness of their viewpoints. All it does is give them more ammunition with which to turn around and fire right back at you. At the end of the day, they are still selfish and hurtful, and you are one step closer to being mortally wounded.

I didn't want to cut contact with these individuals for various reasons, but my shoulders are not wide enough to carry my own blame, let alone the blame that belongs to others. There are many more sinners than saints, and I cannot deal with people who think they are the latter while labeling me the spawn of the devil. While I'm sad at the loss of people and things that are important to me, my mental health is better when I surround myself with people who genuinely give a damn about me, warts and all.

Life is too short, bonny. Let the toxicity go and concentrate on the good that exists right now and that is to come. There's nothing we can change about the past, but it's experience that can make our future better.

You are wise, Maria. Thank you for your thoughts. I agree completely.

At this point, I have had to ask myself how much the vexing is doing for me. I realize that this woman's recent behavior has given me an excuse to dredge up every hurt that I thought I had forgiven her for. It's a longer list than I am proud to count. There WAS some really good stuff, but the ledger is heavier on the side of friendship of need vs. friendship of love.

So, while I thought I was over the old stuff, I know now that I was compromising my own principles and, for whatever reason, I'm not being allowed to continue doing so.

ION, it's a good thing Cagney is sudamncute. I'm having to be conscious of the horror movie trope..."It's quiet in here...too quiet."

When I rise from the computer and track him down in another room, he is invariably gently gnawing on something of mine. Science tells me that it is a reaction to my expression, but is sure looks like guilt to me. To which, I must reply...if you don't want me to storm at you, DON'T CHEW ALL THE THINGS. It's pretty simple, really.

We are becoming better buddies, definitely. We just have two problems...one small and one big...to overcome. So, we've got that going for us.

Strix, I have been too amused by my own OKC profile. I know it is excruciatingly long...for a specific reason...but it it would be fun for you to tweak it, it would be fun for me to see what you'd suggest.

That cat walks through walls.

You should call him Kitty Pryde.

Suh-NERK.

I can't snark on this on Facebook where my relatives will see, but this Lifetime movie that my cousin is in is really hilariously awful. So far, it mostly consists of Lacey Chabert staring into space, looking at a bottle of pills, and then screaming. Repeat, several times. A few flashbacks scenes of that character as a little girl (my cousin) watching her parents argue, and playing on a see-saw with a little blonde girl who keeps disappearing, and her father yelling at her, "You have no little friend!" I think that, in the 12 minutes this movie has been on, we've seen the few scenes repeated about five times, just in case anybody missed the "childhood trauma" and "crazy woman" parts of the plot.

Oh, and because every Lifetime movie needs an evil husband, her husband seems to be stealing money from her, and possibly messing with her medication.

How old is Cagney, Bonny?

How old is Cagney, Bonny?

You know, Ginger, I'm beginning to wonder.

His foster suggested that he was 11 months when they acquired him in March. This would make him about 14 months.

I'm thinking he is younger than that. He's huge...and has gained about 5 lbs in the last couple of months, though he has not filled out much. One person said she thought he'd really grown a lot, though I can't quite see it, in proximity.

The process folks use to 'age' dogs seems to be a fairly inexact science. Not to mention the fudging done to make a pup more adoptable.

The reason I ask is that Mr Peabody was supposed to be about 2 when I got him, but I think he may have been younger, in part because he stopped chewing things after about six months, and it seemed to be mainly because it wasn't fun anymore. He was more obsessed with shoes than anything, although he did chew the arm of the sofa.

The exposition in this movie is so awkward. Psychiatrist asks, "And did these visions continue after your parents died? After your father killed your mother and then killed himself?"

Oh dear, Hil.

bonny, sending all strength to you as you let this frenemy go. Uggh.

I give up. Not going out tonight. Gonna take half a Xanax and read a dumbass magazine. Whee!

He was more obsessed with shoes than anything, although he did chew the arm of the sofa.

Fortunately, the stuff he has actually destroyed has been relatively meaningless. He tends to carry shoes around, but has not harmed any.

He also seems to enjoy moving my small, red plastic shoehorn around.

I hope the phase passes quickly.