Real Life Doesn’t Have Happy Endings…

You never know when it’s your last time to see someone, until it’s the last time. Somehow today, as I glanced across the lawn into my grandmother’s yard, I knew it would be the last time I laid eyes on her. As she smoothly glided around the motor home she had just purchased, I think she knew it too. 

Maybe I should back-track a little bit to remind you of my relationship with my family (as I don’t think I have covered this yet). My relationship with my father’s two sisters and his mother and father (Granny and Pa as we used to call them), is nonexistant. They try….I’m sorry, they “appear” to try and see my nephews, but as far as I’m concerned, they don’t exist. Dear old Granny used to buy me beautiful dresses and clothes one to two sizes too small when I was little. Can you imagine? A beautiful dress comes out of a fancy box. You are six and ecstatic. Granny ushers you into the next room so you can try it on and it doesn’t fit….because she purposefully bought it too small so she could look at you and say, “Guess you’re just too big to fit in it.” I’m not sure what I wanted to call her at six, but at twenty-six the words hateful bitch come to mind. So, yeah…there’s the relationship there. My Pa allowed this by agreeing with how she treated his grandchildren. 

On my mother’s side, my grandfather, Pop, was my everything. I was the apple of his eye and I can remember his love for me like it was yesterday. After he died, Nana, who lived right next door went crazy, got married, got divoreced, disowned her family, got addicted to drugs, started drinking, stayed with her ex-husband and tried to kill herself. I haven’t seen her or spoken to her since Fall 2013. Wow. That’s almost been two years. She put her house up for sale and has been galivanting off with that man ever since. She has never even seen my nephew Gunner, her second grandchild; she hasn’t seen JP since he was two, maybe three. He will be seven this December.

Anyways, imagine my surprise when Nana and her husband pulled in next door this past weekend. I was hoping that maybe he was dropping her off and she was finally going to get to come to her senses. Wrong. Turns out they finally sold her house. The house where so many memories still live. The house that Pop died in. How could she sell it???? Apparently they traded the people that are moving in for the motor home. When I pulled in from a long day, they were preparing the motor home to leave. (At this point, everything that was happening was stil speculation/guesstimate.) She seemed to pause briefly as she stepped into her vehicle, glance over her shoulder, but as quickly as she glanced, she got in and closed the door. In that heartbreaking moment, my bottom lip began to quiver and I knew what was happening. She had just sold her only tie to her past life. The life with her family. The life with Pop. As she pulled away, part of me wanted to scream out and tell her to wait! I wanted to say goodbye! Why are you so determined to get away from here? Why is he so damned important? But I said nothing and I watched her pull away.

Sometimes, if you pay attention, you have a pretty good idea when it’s the last time you will see someone. Doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Later tonite as we all sat on the porch and contemplated Nana’s new life, the neighbors walked over and introduced themselves. They seemed like good people. Daddy went next door to show them the water meter and sewer drain…etc. When he came back he was toting boxes. Before he could say anyting I recognized what they were. Once upon a time, Nana bought all of her granddaughters porcelain dolls that they could have when she had passed on, as a momento of sorts. There in those four boxes were our dolls. There was even a fifth box for my mother, which came as a shock. My little sister made the comment through stifled tears, “It’s like she’s already dead. We probably won’t ever see her again.” I burst into tears. There’s something completely sad about her statement, but she had seen in these boxes what I had seen as Nana left today, goodbye. Bittersweet goodbye. 

Yes she had done shitty things to her family. Yes she was being difficult. Once upon a time, she was a pretty cool grandmother, and the only decent one we had. Today, I feel like I just laid her six feet under and all I want to do is cry. She made it very clear where her loyalties lie. The only silver lining is, I’m so glad Pop isn’t alive to see how our family turned out. It’d kill him. 

Happy endings don’t happen in real life though, but I guess you already guessed that. Endings are just another beginning. Let’s see how this one turns out…


Writer’s Blood

So, I’ve pretty much realized that someone in my family’s history, someone had to be a writer. Thats going to be tough to find, considering all my relatives (like 90%) are all drug crazed convicts. (This unfortunately includes my Grandmother, see a previous blog.) All I’ve done my whole life is write. I’ve kept journal after journal, even though I seem to be failing miserably at my blog. Hey, no one is perfect. I write when I feel it, and I don’t when I don’t. 

I am currently looking through one of my more recent journals to find something, ANYTHING to write about or comment on to distract me from the chaos in my life. …. (some moments later)…. Well the only thing I learned from that damn thing was that I used to have a life, and a lot of it was over-dramatic. Damn. You see, I’m one of those complicated women that act as if they want to be left alone when they’re mad, but once in a blue moon, I would LOVE for someone, friend or other, to grab me and hug me and tell me, “Stephanie! You do NOT have to be so strong and straight laced all the time. Cry! Scream! Whatever! It’s okay for you to break down and just to feel once in awhile. Dammit!” That too much to ask?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m one of those people that really cherishes and NEEDS her alone time, I just would also like to hang out sometimes and cook for other people and then go right back to how things are. I guess with being a hardworker like I always have, I’ve become less spontaneous and more of a home-body. Can’t help that. With bills and obligations, when you’re broke, you keep your ass at the house. 

I think I’m way better at writing about my failures at relationships than I am in actually having a successful one. Even though “they” say that there is someone for everyone, I think “they” get it wrong occasionally.

I don’t know what should be more upsetting, the fact that I am twenty-five and have come to this realization, or the fact that I’m okay with it. Who knows?

Hopefully some better material comes along. 

This sappy mood crap has me all caught up in feelings that I was sure I had buried deep inside. 

So here’s to my ancestor’s (that includes you, Bonnie Parker), maybe I go the gift of writing from one of you. Maybe I will make you proud of me one day! 

Cheers! Ciao!


Rantings, Ramblings…What’s the Difference?

I was taking a very short stroll down memory lane today, and found some ramblings I wrote on different days when  I was very much interested in writing and getting it all out of my brain. Here are a few verses. Apologies if I’ve posted them on here before. (Maybe you needed to hear them again.)

(All of these are by me, justincase you’re wondering….I’m not putting my little signature on all of them.)

  • As the nights got shorter, and our memories began to fade, I realized one important fact…I’m gonna be okay… 7.15.14
  • You will continuously hurt me until I stop letting your memories live inside my heart. 7.13.14
  • & I remember the day you let us slip away… 7.13.14
  • All of the fears sheever had came to life in his eyes as he left her standing there with all the promises he ever made. Yet, she only had one question…. why? 8.2.14
  • Every promise you made me then slowly slipped throughthe cracks of all the excuses you are giving me now. 8.7.14
  • I spent countless hours going over what I would write in a letter. How would I go about telling the one person I loved, more than anything, to have a great life and that I understand why we aren’t together..when I didn’t? How did I tell him that I know why we haven’t spoken when I don’t? At all. All I can assume is that all my fears have been confirmed and you can’t love me like you said you could. It’s okay. Maybe I lied too when I said we could walk through anything, becase obviously we can’t. 8.10.14
  • So there I was. Trapped in the moment. Do I stay, or do I go? Torn between present and future. In that solitary second of finality, I realized. No one was stopping me from going. 10.27.14
  • My heart believed your lies when my mind was screaming, “NO!” My heart is such a foolish pet, always going with the flow. But my mind remembers pain. It remembers regret, words, and fear. So when you  make it back around you can deal with my mind, because my heart’s not here. 7.2.14
  • Of all the lies he told, the words that hurt the most were, “Forever angel. I’m yours forever.” 7.7.14
  • When he wouldn’t return my messages, that’s when I knew this break had ‘broken’ us into two people that just didn’t fit right together anymore. 7.2.14
  • Listening to a song that reminds me so much of him is like an addiction. My own personally polished blade. Swiftly it cuts me, freeing me from my thoughts. I can breathe. When I am almost to tears, with an unbearable ache in my chest, it ends. So I hit repeat. 7.2.14 
  • I had a mini breakdown today. I broke downand found you inside. 8.17.14
  • His ‘forever’ did’t last aslong as mine. 8.17.14
  • & even on her happiest days, if she thought of him, just for a second, she lost her smile. 8.17.14

Well beore I relive earlier this year all over again, that will be all I share for now. It’s safe to say the worst day was obviously July 2. Geeze. Be thankful that I’m here people…that shit sounds depressing. The best thing that came out of that relationship, other than my sharp sense of humor, was the stuff I’ve been able to write coming out of it and the people that I helped, just by understanding their situation and listening. Maybe I will get around to sharing more of it later on. That sick bastard would probably try to take credit for the hard work I’ve put into some pieces…but that is what creative people do! We dive into our artistic abilities and feel the rawest we’ve ever felt, and cry the hardest we ever have and somehow we come up with somepretty brilliant things. 

It’s just what we do. 

Stay brilliant friends. 



The Impossible Letter

Everyone has that one unmistakable ex that seems pop up everywhere. Not literally them, but little instances that remind you of them. I’ve had them pop up in conversation where that one friend says that one line a little bit too much like someone you used to know. Or how about the only movie on TV that is worth watching just happens to be their favorite, or the last one the two of you watched together? You know, the one that they made you stay up until two o’clock in the morning watching because they knew you’d love it just as much as they would. (And it sucked!) Someone can pass you on a crowded street smelling like their cologne. (The same cologne that will not eradicate itself from that one t-shirt that you held onto, despite the patheticness that also reeks from it.) And, lastly but certainly not least, that familiar tune that plays that was (or still is) their ringtone that comes across the radio, or from the DJ’s table. You try and enjoy it, or sip along to your beer as all the memories of everytime that douche has called come flooding back. Blinking back tears, you excuse yourself to another room or area to be distracted by something less painful, less….familiar…. Yeah, you could say I have been there. We all have those final words we’d love to say to that one ex that we never seem to run into again.  These are mine.



Sometimes words fail me with all I feel I need to say, though I don’t think words ever failed you? That’s how you rescued me from my pathetic existence? Right? I feel like I was completely and utterly manipulated for three whole years. Even through the toughest of times, I stuck with you when your family wasn’t even around. When you went away and took my whole heart with you, I hated you. With a deep loathing hate, but that silver tongue of yours weaved a web right back into my heart. And for two additional years, I stayed strong and true and good. I was diligent with keeping in proper contact. I chose you over everyone. Everything.

Dammit. I was willing to run away into our world of splendor and leave family, friends, career behind….for you. Then you asked that fatal question….and I said yes. Hindsight is 20/20 and I realize now that you never planned on making those vows permanent. I was just your stepping stone. Just your crutch until you found yourself in a better place, nevermind the one person that help build you up to the person you needed to become. The person that embraced your family and friends like they were her own. All you’d ever have to do is ask me to jump.

“How high?”

Thank you for forever ruining Game of Thrones, Kick Ass, The Avengers, The Bongos, Taco Bell, red roses, the city of Marshall, and anything else to do with your God-foresaken memory. Ciao.

On the other hand, me and Keisha Cole, Jazmine Sullivan, Apocalyptica, Evanescence, and Five Finger Death Punch, The Vampire Diaries, a couple pissed off besties, Oreo and Blue Bell send our regards.

I’m better now. Now that I’ve convinced myself that maybe you have been severely injured or have landed in prison or have a severe case of amnesia. Ignoring a person that you said you loved from the moment you saw her, and you wanted to spend the rest of your life committed to her happiness because she was so influential in you becoming a working human being again, is not a good way to pay someone back! idiot. 

Whew! Not today Satan….not today. But like I said earlier, sometimes words fail me….lyrics will have to suffice….

“When you cried, I’d wipe away all of your tears. When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears. I held your hand through all of these years. You still have all of me. I tried so hard to tell myself that you’re gone, but though you’re still wtih me…I’ve been alone all along….”

Goodbye Sam. Goodbye. 

-One Less Broken Girl 

Welcome to the Dark Side

This ranting, ladies and gentlemen, comes from the darker side of Lulu. The side that asks too many questions and pushes people past their comfort zones. This side is going to make you feel and cry and laugh and wonder. 

Pain is not an emotion I allow myself to feel all the time, and that is, if I let myself feel it at all. Pain can make you vulnerable to other emotions that you would rather not endure. Pity. Regret. Fear. Lack of confidence. 

Sometimes I feel that I’m not worthy of pain. Does that mean something is wrong with me? When I had my wreck back in 2012, immediately after being hit head on, my first reaction wasn’t to cry, it was to get out of the car and assess the damage. The adrenaline in my body allowed to me crawl out of my vehicle and come around the front and walk across to the passenger side, the whole time repeating the phrase: “It’s not that bad….It’s not that bad.” I can remeber turning around to look across the small farm market road to see the expedition turned upside down across the ditch. Through squinted eyes I saw the small frame of a man creep out of a window, take one glance at me, and take off running through the pasture to get to the woods. 

I stifled an angry yell and returned to my car for my phone. After my parents and police and everyone came and went, the police told my parents the passenger in the other vehicle had perished upon impact and that I was lucky to be alive. The front of his vehiclecame through my windshield, and all I could say was, “I’m sorry about my car Mom. I’m sorry I wrecked Dad.” Something abou that is sort of sad. 

Months and months later I finally let myself soak into what had actually happened. I almost died. I almost wasn’t here to see my nephews, or friends, or family anymore. I felt guilty for wanting to feel sad over my own wreck, because so many people had went through being hit by a drunk driver, just like I had, and hadn’t survived. Once I came to grips with the fact that it was a bad occurrence, that could have been worse, but I was thankul it wasn’t, I was okay, but like I said, it took awhile.

After this past month events, I cannot help feeling that heap piling back onto my shoulders. Since January, my best friend has been diagnosed with breast cancer, at the young age of 28; my parents on the verge of divorce thanks to damned Valentine’s Day; and this past weekend my grandmother tried to commit suicide. 


Now, you must understand that my grandmother and I have not spoken for many months because her boyfriend/ex-husband (not my grandfather, but merely a piece of shit she met a few years after his death) had literally stolen her away from her family. After cleaning her employee stock account out (almost $100,000), and her bank account ($28,000), not to mention whatever she had put on CDs at the bank, demanding that she sell all of her old belongings, including her house, which has sat next to us for my entire twenty-five years. 

. . . . and she did it. Without a moment’s hesitation or thought. 

I can actually reacall the last conversation that I had with her. It was about my car she signed for, so I could have a vehicle after my wreck. 

Nana (so I called her): Stephie, why would you ever think I would have your vehicle picked up?

Me: Well, I really can’t answer that, now can I? I have been making that note on-time ever since you signed for it and then they just come out of the blue and pick it up? That makes no sense. You had it picked up!

Nana: Oh. I see. this must have something to do with your mother. Well, we’ve located it, but we’ll need some financial help getting it out, so whatever you can send will be great.

Me: Seriously? *sobs* Why did you even leave? Weren’t you happy here?

Nana: Stephie, I just had to leave. I was so alone and no one ever stayed with me like I wanted. You have no idea how unhappy a person can get just sitting there day-to-day. You have no idea how being alone the majority of your day can affect your physical health. No one understands me.

Me: You weren’t always by yourself. I came over at least twice a week. Momma came over twice a week. You went to Bingo on Tuesday’s with Aunt Judy and sometimes me and Stacie tagged along. Then at least twice a month, you and Lorelei took off to the boats where y’all spent all weekend. Nana…nana, are you listening to me?

Nana: Yes, Stephanie. Look, darling, we are going to try and get your car back , so try and save us some money to send to help get your car back. 

Within a couple weeks after metting this man of hers, sweet Nana was no more.

Bolting back to the present, she has ultimately decided that swallowing a whole bottle of pills, chased withsome alcohol, afer doing a little meth, is thebetter lifestyle for her. I say, “What the @#$%?’  How is it that she thouhght THIS lifestyle was SOOOO much better than the one that she had? And furthermore, after you choose that lifestyle, how do you decide that NO life at all is better than the lifestyle that YOU picked out in the first place? 

So, while I sit here, waiting to see when her court date is, I find myself utterly confused and hurt. She has a great grandbaby she has never seen, one she hasn’t seen in four years, five grandchildren she hasn’t seen in four years and one of her two kids, she isn’t even speaking to. How is THIS the life she wanted? How is everyday that she lived led up to her possibly being committed and becoming just another medicated person, strapped to a bed, living off the state? How can she still not want our help or to come home?

As upsetting as this was, I still haven’t allowed myself to really digest everything that has been going on.  Sometimes I feel like I will explode from all the things on my mind.

Maybe one day all of my questions will be answered. That, however, does not look like today. 


-Utterly Confused Lulu

She’s alive!!

Ahoy all you blog lovers!! She lives!! LULU lives! 

I know it has been forever since you have heard from me, my precious darlings. I have found myself in laptop hell!! Between that and, well if any of your typing skills are as good as mine on a smart phone, using it was out of the question. I suppose the only thing to do when you’ve been away for so long is to hit the highlights and roll on. 

For starters, I have found myself in SnapChat bliss. It has been my out since I have been without writing power. (You should totally add me: stephleigh89) There’s more than one way to get your daily dose of Lulu. I cover everything from bosses, to coworkers, to annoying customers that most people hate to deal with. I have a good little following on there, so if you enjoy a funny tid bit on people that aggravate other people, you should definitely check it out. 

As I sit here, snacking away on my banana, I think about the various situations I have gotten myself into here lately. Hmmmm. Let me think. Where to begin…

I guess we could soundly start off with the most horrid of things. I lost my best friend in the whole entire world. By lost I mean she became completely engrossed in her relationship that she forgot about all the people that were here when she had absolutely nobody. She forgot who would sit up with here while she cried and who would never judge her, no matter her sordid tale. I truly love her like a sister, but I refuse to be the more adult in this situation and act as if nothing ever happened. I honestly believe a miracle is the only thing that will save our friendship at this point. Miracles seem to be in short supply here lately.

Secondly, I sorta, kinda, broke up a home? Now before all you Negative Nancy’s start in on me, let me just start off by saying when he started flirting with me, and even up until our first outing, I didn’t know he was living with said “baby mama”. When I found out, I was utterly apalled and refused to be anything more than a friend to him. What could be worse? My mother and his “baby mama” are friends on Facebook. I could just die! How am I supposed to react one day if my mother exclaims about a friend distraught because her “baby daddy” is cheating on her with some local harlot. Could I look her in the eye and tell her that it was me? Certainly not. All was right with the world when I told him my verdict….right up until he left her. Geeze. God was not giving me the easy way out this time. Nevertheless, I still haven’t went back out with him. Which seems to be getting me a lot of unexpected visits. What you think? Better to ignore him altogether? Or should I at least give him the time of day to see what he has to say? After all, he did leave her….hmmph. I have no freaking idea. 

Anyways, I will try to upload some of the art I have been working on. 

Love, peace, and Greece!

Ciao! x’s & o’s……

Boredom. its best!


I have always had this mild fascination with Alice in Wonderland. What adult wouldn’t?? You get to escape reality for what seems like weeks, only to come back to your reality not missing anything. Which leads me to the next obvious question: Where’s my rabbit hole?

This Halloween I will be sporting the “Mad Hatter” costume. (Hopefully it will be a success!) Here, in the real world,  you only get as much out of something as you put into it. With that being said, I only have a little over a week to finish, so I’d better get started. Enjoy the doodle. 🙂


Second Chances


I know my Pink fans are out there. This is one of my fave songs by her.  For all you hopeless romantic saps that believe in that second chance crap, thia one is for you. For people that believe in love at first sight and that “love can build a bridge” junk that Cinema will have you believe. For the people who love fearlessly and without restriction. This is for you. Take it. Love it. Make it your wallpaper for crying out loud! (But never forget me!)

For everyone else living in the real world, where your knight in shining armor ended up being a boy trapped in tin foil. Where your mother in law is a bitch from hell or you are pretty sure your girlfriend is poisoning you, pull up a chair and order a double. We’re gonna be here awhile.