is the penis inside out or upside down?

Date night tonight!!! It’s a little ridiculous how excited I am. Even more excited than when we first started dating! Love that boy!
I’ve gotten a few inquiries about the photography business, so that is encouraging, but slow. Knowing how to advertise is confusing, and expensive, and word of mouth take a long time to begin to build up.
Submerging Inferno is now available for the Kindle. I’ve contacted sooooooo many agents, a few more last night even. Surely, surely one will show some interest soon. I really think I’m getting close to spending as many hours searching for someone to accept me as I did writing it. If you haven’t already, please take a moment to ‘Like’ the submerging Inferno page on facebook, and, of course buy a copy and write a review please! It doesn’t matter to me where or how you get a copy. I get next to nothing (sometimes, depending on where the book is purchased, actually nothing) for each copy. I just want some sales reflected and an increase in reviews. I found a copy listed for over $500!!!! Not sure how that came about, must be a scam. Even though I’d get no money from it, it would be really cool to say that someone bought one of my books for $500! (Whiny bitch moment, and this isn’t a comment about anyone who reads the blog—most of my friends don’t read the blog. I’ve been rather shocked, still, at the number of friends who haven’t purchased a book, attempted to read it, or write a review. I’ve purchased many books because of knowing someone who knows someone who wrote a book—it feels good to be supportive. I’ve done my best to not take it personally, but its rather hard not to when they all know how long I’ve worked on this and how much effort I’m putting into trying to make this dream come true. Strange.)
In other news, my plans to become a woman may be temporarily placed on hold. It seems Dancing With the Stars’ decision to place Chaz Bono (formerly Chasity Bono) is drudging up quite the drama. Many families are refusing to watch the show out of corrupting their children, supporting the gay agenda, and because he is only famous because of his parents (kinda agree with that one). I figure I should see how it goes for him before I commit fully to living life as Bernice Witt, authoress, photographeress, teacheress, unlcess, tutoress extraordinaire. Lord, I’d better start dieting if I plan on being a pretty little mermaid—in addition to the sex change, I’ll also be having a legs-to-tale transplant. I wonder if Bachman will still allow me to swim in America waters. Probably not. She’d probably see me as a terrorist threat.

Enriched corn, vegetable, salt, maltodextrin, sugar, monosodium glutamate, autolyzed yeast extract, citric acid, artificial color, corn syrup solids,

I am at risk of losing my children---maybe taken by authorities or to an early grave.
As you know, my children are Dunkyn and Dolan. Smokey and I were debating this morning whether having twelve children or twelve Corgis would be more conducive to a good and happy life. He decided that if it were four, we should choose children. If it were twelve we should choose Corgis. I decided that either way, there would be a lot of poop. But seriously, can you imagine waking up, opening your bathroom door to the rush of twelve Corgis scampering about, their fox ears trembling in anticipation of the first morning petting, their nubbin tails ferociously waddling back and forth in their compulsive love of you? How wonderful!
I may never have that joy as I am becoming an increasingly bad parent. While I never buy the topmost quality of dog food, as it is about sixty bucks a bag, I do buy good dog food—with meat being the top most ingredient, typically lamb. I read the labels of dog food with more attentiveness than I do my own. Last night, due to money and to location, I bought a bag that is ten dollars cheaper for the same amount of what I usually get. The main ingredients? Wheat and animal fat. The boys, of course, LOVE it! It’s doggy fast food after all. I’m sure the amount of diarrhea on our walk this afternoon will be staggering.
I felt the smallest bit hypocritical after judging one of my student’s parents all day. The kid always brings a huge bag of chips to school. A new one ever day. Really? When the mother dropped off the lunch yesterday, I thought I take a look and see what my student was going to partake. A bag of fried chips and a bag of beef jerky. I nearly went back and confronted her on how she takes care of her kid, then remembered the rest of the situation. For her, this is good parenting. At least she’s not abandoning her family at the moment, like she does from time to time. No wonder the kid is miserable all the time!
I hate all the stupid food laws and restrictions and warnings the government is trying to enforce upon the populace. However, at that moment, I was tempted to call up Michele Obama and become her campaign manager. Disgusting! In this case, as in so many, it’s not a money issue. Adding up the cost of the chips and jerky proved it to be more expensive than a school lunch. Insane!
Am I judging based on my own morals? As a hypocrite (as someone who LOVES Sonic)? Am I saying she loves her son less than she should since she is detrimentally affecting her child’s health? Am I a rich old white guy looking down at every one else (I wish! I would love rich to be one of my modifiers!)? You bet! Yes to all of them!
Absolutely disgusting!
And, in a way, heart breaking. If food is love (and the buttons flying off my pants on a regular basis attest that food indeed is equivalent is love), there is no love there.

clarity of love and weakness and love

The second week of school already. Now to fast forward to Christmas, then Spring, then Summer break. Not really. But kinda.
It has been the hardest transition back to work that I’ve had so far. Partly due to such an amazing summer and partly due to Smokey and I adjusting to a new rhythm of life.
It seems that my emotional work is never done. Trying to figure out how to love without suffocating him with my co-dependent and all consuming nature. I could be with him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and never get tired of it. That type of intensity isn’t normal (or healthy) and it wears the other person down. He’s been so supportive of who I am, strengths and weaknesses, but this has be draining and consuming for him. The adjustment period has been a struggle and is nowhere close to being over. Many would simply run away or not say anything until they couldn’t take it anymore. Luckily, he is strong and caring enough to put his (and actual) reality out there and work through it with me. Not easy and very scary, but building trust the entire time. That I can trust him to mean what he says and not walk away the instant things get difficult. I know there are no guarantees, but the tighter I hold on, the more risk of losing him.
It’s difficult to know that I still have work to do, tears to shed, areas to grow. After all the therapy, after all the angst previous, after all the self-reflection and work, I want to be done and simply be where I am. However, where I am isn’t healthy, for anyone.
I was helping one of my new fourth graders last week. He is very impacted. He had picked one other boy that he relates to, and, after two days, considered him his best friend. When the other boy is the slightest bit busy doing anything else, my little one looses it. Sobbing, trying to run away, heart-felt wracking sobs of how the other boy hates him, etc. He couldn’t put into words his feelings. I gave an example of how I feel in similar situations. My heart tightening and constricting. The feeling of terror and panic and pain at the thought of the other person not loving you as intensely as you love them, the difficultly breathing, the heavy dark weight that seems to crush down upon you, . . . . He looked at me, tears streaming, his breathing starting to return to a human pace, as he just nodded, his eyes wide. I knew exactly what he was feeling. I knew how much pain he is in. How scary and wildly uncontrollable for a nine year old when its so consumingly agonizing for a thirty-three year old. In this little boy, I saw a mirror and my own reflection was crystal clear. I spoke of healthy relationships, how being equals in the relationship/friendship is vital, how they both need to be friends with other people, how doing things on there own would actually benefit both of them and their relationship. Things I know to be True, things I don’t really want to be true. He gave some nods of understanding and said, he didn’t want it to be like that. With a sad laugh, I agreed with him and told him I how much I understood and wished things like he did, and we came up with the beginnings of a plan to help him begin to try to have his first healthy friendship.
It’s a difficult, humbling thing to see the most insecure, most imbalanced, most unattractive characteristics of yourself modeled in someone so broken and hurting. It’s the last place you want to see your likeness. However, the clarity it brings can be life-altering. At least, I hope so.

reality

Back to reality. Summer is over. Sleeping past 5:45 is over. Working out in the morning is over. Being with Smokey 24/7 is over. This was the hardest year that I’ve had to come back to work.
Now that it’s arrived, I’m actually okay to be back in the grind of things. It will be fun to see how Smokey and I adjust to every day life.
It was the best, most romantic summer—a summer that I hope is the beginning of the rest of my life.
I didn’t get any writing done, which I have a little guilt about, but I really just needed to focus on being alive again for a bit. I did start the photography business (BrandonWittPhotography.com), which is off to a very slow start. Tutored a ton. And submitted to lots of agents. Received a few rejection letters.
There is tons of drama within with my family. A lady is attempting to steal our house, and is seemingly succeeding. Bitch! My nephew’s court date is the beginning of next month. Please keep that in your prayers.
Anyway, let’s see what’s next!