Autumn Changes

This morning I have a beautiful woman sleeping soundly in my bed. Her long red hair spread out across the pillow; her bright blue eyes closed and dreaming. 

 

I’ve been seeing Lexie for over a month. It’s not very long, but we’ve gotten to know each other quite well. I met her online. When we first started talking, I was drawn to her sense of humor and ability to discuss philosophy. On our first date, she brought me tiramisu because she knows it’s my favorite dessert. We slept together on our second date. A month later, she is moving in. 

Clearly, we are moving very fast. We both know and understand the risks of moving so quickly. She wouldn’t actually be moving in right now, but she had to move out of her old place and had nowhere else to go. She has been living with her grandmother since she was a teenager. I don’t want to speak poorly of her family on here, but I will say that it is mentally and emotionally unhealthy for her to continue living with her grandmother at this time and that is why she must move out. 

I ended things with Shanna as soon as I met Lexie because it was obvious that Shanna and I just weren’t clicking, and Lexie and I were great together. Shanna and I are still friends. Mel and I are having trouble with the time difference and each of us dating other people. She is seeing a girl named Chloe. 

I don’t know what will happen between me and Mel. We still love each other; we always will. We can’t be together, so we’re seeing other people whom we both really like. It’s still very hard on us. I have done well saving money, so I am confident that I will have enough money saved to visit her in Australia next year in July. I want to go for her birthday (July 16).  I don’t know if Lexie and I will still be together in a year, or if Mel and Chloe will. I don’t think that either of us should be in a relationship when I visit. 

 

I have been working two jobs for a little while now. My second job is elderly care. I take care of a sweet 92-year-old woman named Jean. That job has become my main source of income, and I love it. I love Jean and I love the work I do there. Some days I work up to 14 hours a day between the two jobs. I was afraid this would happen if I got a second job. I am a workaholic and I have a hard time prioritizing my health and well-being over financial gain. I am admittedly money-obsessed. I would say money is the only thing I hoard. I’m great at saving money; I always have been. I think it’s because I grew up in poverty. I’m not making millions, but I’m making enough to feel secure and not worry about emergencies. 

Speaking of emergencies, my cat got sick recently and I had to take him to the vet. It was the most wonderful feeling to be able to make an appointment and have the funds to treat him immediately. If I had still been living in my old place under my mother, I would have had to just wait out his illness. My mother wouldn’t have thought he was sick enough to even go to the vet. The way I feel about my independence here, especially financial independence, is simply indescribable. Hence my obsession with money and being a workaholic. 

 

I also have another roommate. His name is Brett and he’s a 19-year-old gay boy. I say “boy” because he’s still very much a child. He is not my ideal roommate, but he’s not too bad. 

 

All in all, I am very happy. Life is wonderful right now. Lexie makes me happy. Every other girl I’ve dated since moving here has not officially made it to the “girlfriend” status. I called them my girlfriends sometimes just because it was easier than trying to explain the causal dating thing every time, but Lexie and I are actually official. I asked her to be my girlfriend on June 23rd. 

 

That is all for now. Thank you for reading. 

Advertisements

Work

Yesterday, the head of housekeeping told me that she’s quitting.

I really like her, and I hate to see her go, but I admittedly saw this first and foremost as an opportunity. Is that wrong? I would love to have her position!

For the next couple weeks, I’m going to really buckle down and try to prove myself to the bosses. If I could be head of housekeeping, it would mean more work, more hours and better pay. It would also mean more control. I could actually put into place some of the changes I’d like to see at the hotel. I could eliminate some of the things I see wrong there, and improve the quality of cleanliness in the rooms.

It’s been driving me a bit crazy that I’m the only one who cleans thoroughly. I mean, they clean well enough, but not as thoroughly as I think they should. Certain housekeepers miss specific things that I do every time. Since I’ve had medical issues they’ve been placing me with other people to clean rooms. That’s great, except that I have to go behind whoever I’m working with and clean what they miss.

I had accepted that. What really gets to me is that I catch things that the head of housekeeping misses. She shouldn’t be missing anything. I know I’m a bit OCD, but still.

If I actually manage to get the position, I know the housekeepers are not going to like me. If they think the current head if housekeeping is tough, they definitely won’t like me. Good thing I’m not in it to make friends. The only thing that makes me sad is that Michelle wouldn’t like be anymore. She’s the assistant head of housekeeping and we were sort of becoming friends.

Honestly, I think Michelle would be the first one up for the position. So, it probably depends if she wants the position. I wouldn’t like her as head of housekeeping, but only because she has certain things going on in her life that would make it too hard for her to give that position the time and attention required.

I’m off to work now. I’m going to talk to the owner today if I get the chance, just to see if he’d be willing to consider me for the position.

The Bad

Failed relationships are so damn painful. Even more painful is trying to be friends afterwards.

My girl broke up with me, then got back together with me, and broke up with me again.

I’m bipolar, but stable. She was diagnosed bipolar just a couple months ago. I think our relationship became bipolar, too.
Because I’m bipolar, I had decided some time ago that I could not date someone who was also bipolar; at least not someone who wasn’t stable. By the time we found out, though, I was in love.

There are two sides to every story. Her side is surely different from mine, but I don’t really know what it is. This is my side.

I’ve been riding this emotional roller-coaster with her for the past two months. I’ve been 100% available to her every time she’s needed someone. She has struggled and suffered breakdowns. I’ve talked her through everything as best I could. I’ve listened and empathized, even when it hurt me to do so. I’ve given all of myself.
Currently, and for the past two months, she has been incapable of giving much back. When I’ve needed her, she’s shut me down, pushed me away, or offered nothing. I guess I could have handled it if she had just told me clearly what she could and couldn’t handle. She doesn’t want me assuming or analyzing her, obviously, but she wouldn’t really talk to me. I just don’t know what to do with that.

We used to talk about everything. She used to like that I never let anything stew, that I always wanted to talk about things. Then suddenly I couldn’t talk about anything that was upsetting me. As a result, things grew bigger and more upsetting. She knows me well and she would ask me what was wrong, but I can’t pour my heart out just to be shut down afterwards.

I can’t do the uncertain, undetermined relationship. I can’t show affection just to get none in return. I can’t give all of myself and get nothing back at all when I need it. I can’t even do this in the contexts of a friendship, let alone a romantic relationship.

I tried to help her through the bipolar stuff because I’ve been there, and she wanted my help. However, after a while she no longer wanted my help and instead perceived it as self-righteousness. That wasn’t my intent at all, and if I come off that way to people, then I need to change something. I don’t know everything about bipolar disorder. I only know what has worked for me. I see so many things in her that I’ve felt or done. I guess I didn’t word things the right way and got too intense with my suggestions.

She is such a strong person and she is capable of so much, but there’s no reason for her to have to struggle with everything or do it all on her own. I guess I handled things wrong. I don’t know. She doesn’t talk to me enough beyond an argument. I’m trying to admit my fault in this, too, but it’s kind of hard when I’m so confused about what went wrong. It’s not all on her, but I only know my perspective of the situation.

We used to feel the same way about each other and express it equally and openly. She used to shower me with love, be romantic and affectionate. She used to tell me multiple times a day how much she loved me, missed me, needed me. She used to be there for me in any way that I needed her. She used to return everything that I gave her. She used to be loving and supportive.

She had a breakdown and I suggested she see a doctor. We both suspected she was bipolar, and she is. After that, everything went downhill. I don’t know exactly what happened, but she changed completely. I have tried and tried to accept her as she is, but it’s not easy when she’s so completely different. I see glimpses of who she used to be, and think she’s returning to normal, but she’s not.

She tells me that she can’t handle any drama, and I get that, but my need for love and support shouldn’t be drama. My need for her to not brush away my feelings after pushing me to express them shouldn’t be drama.

Go back to my post “Not Okay” and that’s where I’m at lately. A little bit stronger, a little bit happier, but still not really okay. I can’t seem to accept the good and the bad in my life at the same time, so this was the bad and my next post will be the good.

Thanks for reading.

My Beautiful New Life

I love this town, I love the people, I love my roommate, I love my neighbor, I love my house, and tomorrow I will love my job! 

 

I am just so incredibly happy here. The only problem has been money (naturally, haha), but we’ve just barely started off here, so it’s going to even itself out quickly. I’m finally starting work tomorrow! That will surely help. I wasn’t able to start sooner because my boss was in the hospital. I am just beyond thrilled to start tomorrow! I’m excited and relieved, too. 

Today is a gorgeous, bright, sunny day. April and I have some errands to run, and then we’re going to the beach! We’re going to take more beach pictures today and I will share them on here again. 

 

I’ve been spending a lot of time with my neighbor, Jess, and she just awesome. I’m so happy to have such a great neighbor. Her three boys are great, too. Jess is a wonderful, loving mom. I enjoy listening to her tell me all about her boys. She speaks about them with so much love and pride. Motherhood is a beautiful thing, and sadly there aren’t enough good mother’s who truly appreciate the blessing that their children are. Jess does, though, and she’s one of the great mothers. She has also been helping me and April out in little ways that mean so much. She jumps on any opportunity to help her neighbors. I was hungry one night and she went right in and brought me some chips and homemade bean dip. I mentioned that April and I ran out of trash bags, and she gave me several. We’ve been sitting on our porch sharing drinks and just talking and getting to know each other. It’s been really nice and I like her more every day. 

 

Since moving here two weeks ago, I have been invited to multiple parties and gatherings and I’ve met more people than I ever did in my old town. People here like, accept and respect me. It’s a wonderful feeling. 

 

I am so grateful for my new life here and all of the opportunities presented to me. 

Living Anew

As soon as I moved here to St. Augustine, I began coming out of my shell. More and more each day I find myself growing, getting stronger, feeling better. I’m not as anxious. I can do more on my own. I don’t feel as limited by myself or others. 

It’s a great feeling. 

 

I haven’t worked in quite some time, in part because of my location and lack of transportation, and in part because of my issues with bipolar disorder and panic disorder. I’ve been unable to make phone calls or do much on my own. I have panic attacks and simply can’t function properly. 

Since moving, though, I find that I can do more. I feel less anxious. I’m starting my job soon and I am very excited. I don’t feel that terrible dread that I normally feel when doing something like this. I know I’ll still be nervous and I’ll probably make a few mistakes, maybe take a little longer to learn the job, but I’m okay with that. I’m prepared to deal with what’s ahead. I feel stronger and I know I can handle it. 

I’ve been able to talk to more people on my own. I had an issue talking to someone on the phone right before moving. I felt that anxiety shutting me off again, my voice silencing. But I briefly put them on hold, took a breath and recovered quickly. 

This is progress for me. It’s nothing to a normal person, but it’s life to me- actually living. I have to acknowledge the steps I take in my life, no matter how small and insignificant they seem to everyone else. I have to acknowledge that I’ve overcome a lot and that I’m doing well. 

 

I recently had someone reject me because they didn’t think I was good enough. I’m 25 years old, not in school, working part-time at a hotel as a housekeeper, and I don’t own a vehicle. They were in college, a single parent, working full-time, excelling in all they do. 

Instead of feeling hurt or ashamed as I normally would, I reacted with the thought that they don’t know where I’ve come from, what I’ve done in my life or how hard it’s been just to get to this point. Nothing they (or anyone else) can say will take away from what I know is accomplishment worthy of pride for myself. Of course I wish I was in school, working full-time and doing so much more than I am now. But that’s not the way my life worked out.

I’m proud of where I’m at and what I accomplish each day. I’m proud of all I’ve overcome and all I’m still overcoming. I’m proud of my new-found independence, even if I am living with a friend and we’re sharing responsibilities. I’m proud each time I pick up the phone and call someone who makes me nervous. I know all that I haven’t been able to do in the past and how important these seemingly insignificant steps are for me personally. 

I’ve taken longer to reach this stage of my life than most people my age (even many who have endured much more than I have), but people progress at different levels. I will not be judged or deemed unworthy. I will not fight for a friendship or anything else, trying to convince someone of my worth. If someone doesn’t wish to associate with me because they think I’m not good enough, that is their problem. I’m not going to be hurt or ashamed. If they wish to confront me, I will stand up for myself, but if not, they can just move on. I have good people in my life now who appreciate me and value me. I don’t need anyone who would judge me without knowing me. 

 

I’m loving my life here. It’s brand new, but it’s already giving me strength and courage that I haven’t had in other places. Finally having the chance to break away from people and places who have held me down is helping me grow as a person. There’s an energy here in everyone I meet, and just the town itself. I’m feeding off that energy, gaining strength and giving back. I know I’ll make mistakes, probably embarrass myself a few times, get lost every now and then, but I’ll find my way and I’ll enjoy my life. 

 

This is a beautiful, wonderful new stage of my life and I am thrilled to share it with all of you reading this now. Thank you all for being a part of my new life, enjoying it with me, sharing in my experiences, reading my personal and intimate thoughts, fears and joys. 

Overcoming Eating Disorders

They say that eating disorders are about control. For me personally, that wasn’t entirely true. Mine was more about acceptance.

This country puts so much emphasis on thinness and beauty, making it out to be a bad thing if someone has a little extra weight. Truth is, extra weight is only bad if it’s causing a health issue. People can be perfectly healthy while being technically overweight.

The first time I had insecurities about my weight was when I was about 3 years old. I have always loved snacking, so I was eating crackers at a hotel while vacationing with my family. I was surely eating way more than I needed to, but children don’t understand that. My parents didn’t mean anything by their comment, nor did they ever expect that it would affect me the way that it did. I asked for more crackers and they told me that I would get fat if I ate any more. It was clear to me that being fat was bad and unacceptable in my parents’ eyes. We went for a walk down the beach and I recall staring at my baby-pudge of a stomach, worrying about being fat the entire time.

I don’t think I’d thought about weight or body size until then. It shouldn’t be something a 3 year old thinks about. I’ve also always been more sensitive than most kids, so I tended to pay closer attention to what was said to me and dwell on it longer. I did not develop my eating disorder at age 3, though. The comment didn’t affect me that deeply.

I basically developed it in high school. Going back to the idea that it’s about control, I didn’t have any control in my life, so it’s not unlikely that that played a role somewhere in there. Mine really was more about acceptance, though, with some aspects of control in the mix.

I weighed about 135lbs, at most, in high school. Sad that I remember, but that’s what an eating disorder does. Where control is concerned, the eating disorder controls the person, not the other way around. I was homeschooled until high school, so it was a bit of a culture shock for me starting public school. I wanted to be pretty, I wanted to date and be like everyone else. I wanted to wear pretty clothes and be noticed. All my friends were prettier than me, “cooler” than me, and got along with others easier than I did. I never really fit in, nor was I ever really accepted. I had the thrift store clothes that didn’t fit, no social skills to speak of, and I was completely clueless in regards to rules and structure.

I never ate breakfast in the mornings because there was never any emphasis on the importance of it. I often skipped lunch at school because many of the “cool” kids skipped lunch. My diet at home consisted of soda and crackers. I gained weight, or rather gained fat, and I always got passed over for my prettier friends by everyone.

My mother unknowingly set a terrible example for me throughout the years. When I was little and we would do our hair together, Mom would look in the mirror and announce that she was ugly and call herself a witch. I never thought confidence or self-acceptance was allowed. Should skip meals, diet and talk about being fat and ugly. She never said those things about me, but I picked up all of her habits and tendencies in self-esteem and body image. Mom again didn’t realize how she was affecting me.

My eating disorder started in high school and became full-blown by age 16.

This is the part where I get really personal and expose myself to the world…

I dieted constantly, fasted, took a lot of diet pills and other pills and liquids that basically clean you out, including laxatives and ipacac syrup. I binged and purged in various ways. At this point of my life I was living in a shed on my parents’ property off in the woods. My mother was aware of my of the behaviors I was indulging in, but she couldn’t handle trying to help me or even acknowledging what was going on.

I had some access to the internet once in a while, and I used it to find “support groups” and “thinspiration.” I could sit in my shed at night and eat nearly entire pizzas by myself, plus a ton of sweets, snacks and other full meals. My binges were unbelievable. After a binge, I would purge and fast. The longest I ever went without eating was 2 weeks. My weight dropped from 125.6 to 110.8 in that time. After the 2 weeks, I started eating again and I put every bit of the weight back on immediately.

I was seeing a therapist and I did tell her about my eating disorder. I told other therapists, too. They all said that I was fine unless I became emaciated.

I’m going to put this next part in bold because it is extremely important.

You do not have to be emaciated to have an eating disorder!
People of any shape and size can be living in the torment of an eating disorder. Your weight and physical body is not what determines your risk.

Eating disorders are mental, not physical. The torment of an eating disorder is what you deal with internally, and that is where you need help. I don’t know about doctors elsewhere, but the doctors in my area were only concerned with the physical. I never received help for my eating disorder because I never dropped below the weight they determined would be a risk.

The torment of an eating disorder are the constant obsessive thoughts and fears of food, eating, dieting/fasting, weight gain and loss, calories/fat/nutritional information, etc. I took note of every single thing that touched my lips, including gum or a single nibble of a carrot stick. My life was taken over completely by my eating disorder. I was miserable with my mind obsessively stuck on an eating disorder loop, yet I was compelled to continue.

I had zero self-esteem and I felt worse about myself with every passing moment. I couldn’t sleep at night because of my hunger and cravings for food, or because of my over-fullness from binging and my disgust and fear of gaining weight.

There was no room in my life for anything other than the eating disorder. Dieting, fasting and taking pills left me extremely unstable because I’m also bipolar.
I was never out to harm myself with my disordered eating. I had studied health, eating disorders and pills and vitamins extensively. I knew that I could become potassium deficient from some of my behaviors, so I took a supplement for that, as well as an iron supplement and other various vitamins. I was a complete disaster mentally and emotionally, but I miraculously managed to spare myself any permanent physical damage. Not including vitamins, I was taking upwards of 110 pills to lose weight, in addition to the extremely dangerous liquids such as ipacac syrup.

I realized that no doctors, friends or family were going to help me, and I wanted help out of my living hell, so I began taking steps on my own to help myself. I’m honestly still shocked to this day that I was able to help myself. I didn’t know how to change my habits or my thinking, yet I managed to do it.

My breaking point was when my grandfather died in 2007. I was beyond miserable and I knew his death would push me over the edge if I didn’t do something. I’m bipolar, so that was part of my problem, but I targeted the eating disorder as well. I wasn’t suicidal, but I told the doctors at the mental hospital that I was because they wouldn’t take me unless I was at risk of killing myself.

I don’t believe in waiting until a person is nearly beyond help before doing something. The earlier you catch a problem, the better. I knew I could become suicidal because my bipolar issues, my eating disorder and my sorrow over the loss of my grandfather was immense. I also knew that waiting too long would be the worst thing I could do.

When someone wants help, they should be helped. I admitted myself into the mental hospital and I did not tell them that I was bipolar or that I had an eating disorder. I wanted to see if those doctors would be any more helpful and capable than the others I’d seen. They weren’t. I wrote out my bipolar symptoms for then in such a way that I knew they would recognize and diagnose me. I didn’t eat for the first 2 days. They caught the bipolar disorder, but they didn’t notice or care that I wasn’t eating.

Sometimes you just want someone else to pick you up when you’re down instead of having to do everything alone. That’s what I wanted, but it was clear I wouldn’t get it. I began eating and I worked on controlling my thoughts while in the hospital. I was only in there for about a week, so I didn’t have much time to get myself together enough to function normally in the real world.

To overcome my eating disorder, I did away with my bathroom scale (meaning I didn’t get a new one when mine broke) and I started doing those silly affirmations whenever looking in the mirror. I hated those, but they helped. I stopped myself from thinking negatively about my body. I looked in the mirror and smiled (forced, at first). I told myself that I looked okay just the way I was and I didn’t need to be bony to look good. I’ve always thought other women were beautiful no matter what size or shape they were, so I told myself that I was no different than them.

I was so obsessed for so long that I didn’t actually need a scale to tell me what I weighed. I knew when I lost or gained a pound. I still do, but I don’t think about it now. I stopped allowing my weight to control how my day would go. I reminded myself every time I ate that I would not get fat by eating a meal. I bought clothes that fit me properly, without paying attention to the sizes. I ignored all numbers whether they were pounds, sizes, calories, grams of fat, etc. I threw away my diet books and diet pills. I trashed my “thinspiration” too. I looked at plus size models and regular people, reminding myself that they were beautiful and I was no different.

I have never been overweight, but it doesn’t matter when you have an eating disorder.

I relapsed in 2008. I was using drugs, not eating, not taking care of myself at all. I dropped down to 101.8lbs and I actually looked unhealthy that time.
Again, I pulled myself together and went through the mental processes that worked for me. Again, I did it alone. I wish I’d had support, but I’m proud of where I am today in comparison to where I was then.

The hell of an eating disorder is seriously a very slippery slope. I’m okay now, but I know that I have to be aware and remember how miserable it was to live disordered. It is a mental disorder, even if there are no medications for it. Disordered eating affects your brain. The thing I value the most with my body is my brain. I’m fairly intelligent, but when I’m indulging in an eating disorder, I can’t think straight and my brain isn’t functioning at its best. I value my brain’s function and my mental stability more than I value thinness or external beauty. I still value acceptance, but I would rather be noticed for my brain than my body.

I still do those silly affirmations, reminding myself that confidence is allowed and self-esteem is good; reminding myself that I’m pretty no matter what I weigh or what I look like. I treat myself to nice clothes, good makeup, hair styling products that I like, pretty nail polish, and anything else that helps me enjoy my physical appearance.

I eat healthy food that I truly love (like salmon and brown rice with steamed veggies, yum!), and I indulge once in a while in junk foods that I like (I’m still a sucker for cheese crackers). I don’t pay attention to nutritional facts, although I know them well enough without looking. I eat until I’m full and I do not binge. The stay at the mental hospital helped me establish a healthy eating schedule. They don’t know it, but because of their structure I was able to learn how to establish some healthy habits. I enjoy walking, riding a bike, skating and doing yoga for exercise.

Talking to yourself and doing the affirmations seems ridiculous, but I promise it works. It’s all about changing the way you think: about yourself, about others, about your life and situations. I’m eating a poptart right now. It’s extremely unhealthy; loaded with sugar and white flour. I know I won’t get fat off a poptart, though. I remind myself that it’s okay to indulge on occasion and enjoy something like that.

I used to judge other people because I was trying to remind myself that I needed to be thin. I changed that thought process, too. When I caught myself judging someone, I corrected my thinking of them and focused on something I liked about them: their eyes, clothes, hair, confidence, smile, laughter, anything. I don’t judge people now. Negative thoughts stopped entering my mind at all. I only see what is beautiful about others. Eventually I will hopefully only see what is beautiful about myself, as well.

I’m between 105 and 110lbs now. My body will remain around 110 as long as I eat healthy and exercise. If I gain more weight, that’s okay. I’m not trying to gain, lose or maintain my weight. I only put effort in if I lose too much weight or catch myself falling into old habits. Lately I have had more trouble eating, but I know how to manage it and I’m okay. I’m happier when I’m eating properly. I have energy and I feel good.

If anyone reading this is struggling with an eating disorder, please know that focusing on your self-esteem and confidence is far more effective than focusing on your physical appearance. Eating healthily and exercising regularly helps you feel better physically and mentally. It’s also enjoyable when you find the right ways for yourself personally. I don’t really think that an eating disorder is something that someone else can get you out of. It’s a mental issue and only you can control your mind. Someone else can teach you how to change your thinking and methods to use to get through it all, but it’s personal and internal, so it’s up to each person to want to change and get better.

Thank you for reading. Please feel free to comment, ask questions or share your experiences. I value everyone’s thoughts and opinions.

Moving Update

Life is so wonderful right now! Everything with our move is falling into place so beautifully.

First we found a place and the landlady gave it to us immediately even though there were several other people interested in it. Then we got a bed for April right after it had been put out on display. Then we found a bed set for me less than 24 hours after the ad had been posted online. Plus both of our jobs were secured quickly and with no issues at all!

The man who sold me the bed set hadn’t been sure if I wanted it, but he put off selling it to anyone else (several people wanted it) until I could get out to his place to look at it. It came with a Serta mattress that looked brand new, a bed frame with a headboard and posts, two side tables with drawers, a vanity, and a dresser… All for $250!!

On top of that incredible deal, the man was SO nice! He met with us last night, helped us load everything up, AND made two trips in his truck to deliver it all in the middle of the night!

I can’t believe how friendly and helpful people are here! Nor can I believe how blessed April and I have been in all of this. Everyone we’ve met here has been so nice and generous to us. The people who sold us April’s bed, our kitchen table and chairs, and our entertainment center, also delivered everything for free and set it all up in our house.

My room is coming along beautifully. I’ve painted about half of it and am hoping to finish it today. It looks so lovely with the pale blue walls, and my bed set matches the whole room perfectly.

Our duplex neighbor is very nice. She left us a potted plant with a card welcoming us in and letting us know that we can just knock if we need anything. She has three adorable little boys who are very friendly and polite. And they have the cutest little Pekingese dog named Rufus. I’m not the biggest dog person, but I really like Rufus!

I can’t wait to get to an internet connection so I can post some photos of our new place on here! Haha I just can’t wait to show it off. I’ll be posting before and after photos. 🙂