Goodbye Zac, you will be missed.

Today, just a few minutes ago actually, I got some of the worst news.

My fiance's best friend Zac, shot and killed himself three days ago. I am stunned to my core by this news and I am hurting in ways I didn't know was possible.
Zac was the funniest, and craziest person you would ever love. He had an intense obsession of Iron Maiden's Eddie. He had numerous posters, hats, shirts and tattoos of the freaky looking thing. But that was Zac, and you loved him for it.

I remember the first time I met him, Mario and I went to his house to play Risk (a game I thoroughly HATE) but Zac was so drunk that he was unable to move the necessary pieces so guess who gets pulled into the game? Yeah I was Zac's “little man mover” as he called it. Being as drunk as he was he was unable to remember my name, which if it had been anyone else I would have been upset but with him, it was funny. Finally, he said that he was renaming me Babe, that he could remember that one. He only called me babe that one time, then it on to whatever other names happened to pop into his head.

A few years ago, he had a baby girl and I am saddened beyond belief that she will not have him in her life. Her life will be a little darker without him.

Zac, I wish I could have seen you again, I miss you. I'm so sorry that things got so bad that you had to take this step. You were so loved by so many people and I'm so happy to say that I am one of those people.

But you wouldn't want us to cry, I can see your face now telling us to shut the fuck up.

I know this is probably the most rambling bunch of mush I've ever written and for that I'm sorry but I just had to get it out.

Rock On, Forever Zac!

I sound quiet Bitchy, but I promise I wasn't trying to (well maybe a little)

Well Hello again!

Here I am at 4 am unable to sleep… wait maybe the word is unwilling… anyway I’m not asleep but that’s beside the point.

I received an email this week from a Heidi C. inviting me to a site called “Lookville”. When I first read the email I was flattered, I have to admit. The email was about how she had been to my site and how she was impressed about what was on it and how it looked. *deflate ego here* So I clicked the link and of course there wasn’t much explanation about what the site was except it was about fashion advice. That in its self made me pause. I thought back to my blog, it had absolutely NOTHING do to with fashion. So I pulled out the all knowing Google and googled it right on up.

There I found a large amount of information (as always) about Lookville and it took me a few clicks until I found the one that I was looking for. Basically Lookville is a site that’s by ‘invitation’ only. I use invitation in quotations because it seems that there are a LARGE number of people who have been given the invite, and while that’s okay, it loses its power if everyone gets an invite.

Anyway I read on about a person (I won’t use her name since it’s SO very late at night and I’m certain that she is not a freak like me and up at the ass crack of dawn and I don’t feel like waiting for an email to make sure that it’s okay) who had used the site to do just what you are supposed to do and post pictures of yourself in an outfit and people would comment on it. While this person posted the picture and asked a very specific question about this said dress the people who responded did so in a very unkind and un-topic related way. The way she responded to the comments was the way I would have handled it also, she would wear the dress no matter what anyone else said. Amen to that one. Fashion like beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I believe fashion is about what makes you FEEL good, not only what makes you look good. If you find something that makes you feel like a million bucks and it makes you look good, then you are very lucky person indeed.

But saying that, I find it highly annoying that someone would email me stating that my site was related to something that it wasn’t; if the email had been about writing, I would have jumped up and down with glee. As you can tell, or at least I hope you can tell, I’m not.

So Heidi C., I’m sorry that I won’t be able to accept this invitation on the grounds that either you misread my blog, didn’t look at it, or didn’t care what was there.

“Ciao!”