Thursday, February 28, 2013

Scandal Blog: What If...

Choices.  We all make them, often without giving a second thought.  It's completely possible that the next choice we make, no matter how insignificant it seems, may be the one that changes our lives forever.   In our own lives, we make the best decisions we can with the information we have at the time.  In Scandal-life, it's a bit different.  We, the viewer, usually have more information than the character and may be better equipped to make choices.

So here we have Scandal: What If Edition (according to Bek)

What if Liv never agreed to rigging the election?  
 - Some people like to think that had Fitz lost the election, he would have left Mellie and he and Olivia could be together forever.  They'd be free to be happy because he wouldn't be the president and his image wouldn't be so important.
  I don't believe that for a second.  Status is extremely important to Fitz, and losing the election would've been devastating to him.  With all of his daddy issues, plus his need for success, he would've been drinking scotch in the shower, just not the shower in the White House.  Mellie would be putting him back together again as best she could, and he'd still be mad at Liv for letting him lose.   He'd still be governor and would eventually get tossed out of office after a scandal involving him and a few barely-of-age interns.

What if Jake would've told Fitz that he was seeing Olivia? 
- After Fitz's face turned completely red, he would've played it off like it was no big deal.  Jake would've been excused and would've left the white house.  A day later, Jake would catch wind that there was a bounty on his head.  As he's in the intelligence agency, he'd go underground for a while, surfacing so that he could do an interview with Pierce Jacobson, the premier news anchor who believes there is a scandal involved in his disappearance. Before the interview, he's given a bottle of water that appears to be sealed.  He takes a sip and is dead 42 1/2 seconds later.  The coroner would later show a cause of death of a massive heart attack and Jake's body is cremated.

What if Huck would've run a full background check on "Becky"?
 - He would've found out that she wasn't at all who she said she was, and after some digging would've discovered that she was the female version of him.  He would've confronted her, and she would've been honest about her line of work, and would tell him that she admired his work, and had always wanted to meet him.  Huck would fall for this because he really wants a girlfriend, but would set up some surveillance of his own "Just-in-case".    He'd learn that she was to frame him for Fitz' assassination, and he'd lose it.  He'd have way too much fun killing her and then would wear her skin as a suit under his clothes  and would have relapsed into killing people for fun.

What if Harrison had a love interest? 
- How come everyone gets some action except for Harrison?  It's kind of hinted that he's a ladies man, he gave Huck dating advice, but where are the ladies?  Is it because the viewers swoon over him (I don't, and I don't understand it, but he does get more attractive when he has stern lines)?  Is it because his past also involves him hooking up with Liv and he's still waiting on her?  Did he take a vow of celibacy?  So many unanswered questions.  I don't think Harrison needs to be in love, but he could stand for a few dates *ahem*.  I think without one he's going to push up against Abby and no one really wants that. 

What if Liv enjoyed running instead of swimming? 
 - She'd be outside and would actually meet someone.  Not Edison's recycled self.  Not Jake who likes her because her ex was paying him to stalk her (I'd like to apply for professional stalking).  But a real person, that likes fitness, and works in DC doing DC things.  Sure Fitz would still be nutsy-coo-coo and would probably have that dude sniped, but at least she'd be putting herself out there.

What do you think?  What would you have our favorite characters do different?

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

What's Your Song?

What's your theme song?  The song that amazingly seams to voice your life?  The one that seems to speak to everything you're feeling?  Sure this song will change, depending on what you're going through.  For example...

If I'm having a bad day at work

If I'm having a lovey dovey moment (also reminds me that working out is a good necessary thing)

If I kind of feel like Sade but don't want to go full Sade
(Going full Sade when you don't want to is a recipe for disaster)

Right now, as much as I do not like the Hippity Hop. As much as Kanye's voice makes me want to set things on fire and kick people.  It's all about those girls that get me through the day.

Thanks ladies, I love you guys :-)

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Dear Beyonce

Dear Beyonce,

I really wanted to see you in concert.  Really.  I was ready to break my $40 rule (no ticket to anything should cost more than $40) and everything.  I was ready to scream, and shout, and let it all out (wait, wrong song) and do all of the choreography and buy a t-shirt that cost way too much.  I was ready to stay out late on a work night (like a school night but worse) to put on a performance right along with you.  I was ready to sing Listen all loud and emotionally, like Curtis was really right there and give him what for with my voice that all of a sudden has some personality (Deena never could've sung Listen, but that's another post).  I was ready to bust out the butterfly during Baby Boy like it's 1993 because that's the closest I can get to a "dirty wind".

But I can't.

You see, your tickets sold out in about 12 seconds.  And that's sad.  Sure I can still get a ticket, to watch you do this


But I'd have to pay three times face value.  As much as I love you B, as much as I think we have a special bond because our birthdays are on the same date, I won't pay three times face value.  For that you'd have to come over here after the concert and:
  1. Fry me some chicken
  2. Clean the kitchen afterwards
  3. Read Ladybug Brown Bear because that's her favorite book in the whole wide world
  4. Vacuum
  5. Prepare seven meals for the freezer
  6. Wash, blow dry and flat iron my hair
  7. Wash the dog
  8. Give me a pedicure
  9. Bake me a pound cake
  10. Find the mates to all of the missing socks
I don't think you have time for all of that.  While I was doing research for this post, I found that some deranged, crazy, psycho, glue sniffing, paint huffing individual has posted tickets for $549,649... each.

Um what? Sure they're good seats.  And I know you put on a heck of a show.   But, no one is worth the price of a few condos, some Ducatis, and a couple Lexi.  I don't care how good your fried chicken is.

So instead I will wait on the DVD for the Mrs. Carter Show World Tour Starring You, and watch the one I already have.

Maybe next time B, maybe next time. 

Sunday, February 24, 2013

My Infertility Story - Part II

(Link to Part I  )

Two years and 9 months after we started trying to start a family, I was back in my ObGyn's office.  She asked if I wanted to try Clomid again, or if I wanted a referral to infertility.  I'd had enough of trying on my own, I asked for the referral.  Jethro and I were extremely blessed to have medical insurance that covered fertility treatments at 100%.  I know that makes my story unique, because the vast majority of the time, it's not covered.  In fact, had we been on my insurance instead of Jethro's we would have had no coverage at all.  We were eligible for unlimited IUIs , and up to four egg retrievals for IVF.  Although I had insurance coverage, my research found that my insurance carrier had recently severed ties with a lot of doctors.  Luckily, the office my doctor recommended was still in network.  I brought up that Jethro still hadn't been tested, and that I'd been working on that for the last 33 months.  My doc said not to bother at that point, and to let the fertility center handle it.

My first appointment was with the Nurse Practitioner, who explained how the process would work.  I took off of work, and went to the appointment solo. Before they could tell me anything, I'd undergo a series of tests to find out exactly why I was having trouble conceiving.  Jethro's part wouldn't happen until they'd done all of my tests.  I was so worried that they'd take one look at me and say "hey you're a fatty fat fat fatty, that's why you can't have babies." That didn't happen.    As is my normal, the Nurse Prac commented on how calm I was.  I had to be calm, I didn't know what I had to be crazy over yet.  It's important not to under or over the crazy.  I had my first (of many many many many) transvaginal ultrasound (the ultrasound probe didn't buy me dinner first which was kind of rude) and got to see my uterus.  It looked like a uterus, but was fibroid free and looked normal.  During the conversation, she asked me if I was hairy.  I may have laughed so hard that I cried.  Yes, I'm partially Sasquatch, also water is wet.  Her guess was,k between my werewolf tendencies and my wonky cycle that my issue was hormonal.   I was to call when my cycle started and the real tests would begin.  I walked away from the appointment feeling pretty good, I was really on the road to being a mommy.

My cycle showed up, and I made the call.  My first set of bloodwork was scheduled for 3 days later.  Bloodwork at the fertility clinic is weird, it's first thing in the morning and there are appointment times every 15 minutes.  7:00, 7:15, 7:30, etc.  It truly is first come first served.  And normally, there is a waiting room full of women who don't acknowledge each others' presence.  We're all there for the same thing, yet no one can even manage a nod and a smile.  Maybe because we don't want to get close to someone and have them get pregnant but not us.  Maybe it's because we like our own "failure" and aren't interested in theirs.  I get called back and meet a nurse, who isn't "my" nurse but is on duty for blood work.  I immediately get labeled as a problem patient.  I have little bitty teeny tiny baby veins that like to run and hide from needles.  I was told to ask for a heating pack when I sign in, hoping that the heat will get my veins to rise to the occasion.   The initial results came back normal.  My egg reserve was good, which was a good sign.   Because this appointment was first thing in the morning, I didn't have to tell anyone at work yet.

I had weekly ultrasounds for the next few weeks.  Trying to see if I would ovulate.  My cycles weren't anywhere near regular, so it was anyone's guess when that would be. I also had a test to see if my tubes were open.  Dr. Google (my favorite doctor) warned me that this test would be excruciating.  I was able to schedule on Jethro's day off and prepared myself for the worst.  I took meds before the test and worked on breathing exercises.   Jethro drove and I tried not to be too afraid.  They took me back and... it was painless.  The nurse that did it didn't know where I (and a previous patient) got our information from, but suggested I stay off the internet.  She may as well have told the sun not to shine.  Those results I saw as it happened.  My tubes were completely open.  Afterwards, Jethro and I stopped for Gyros.

I got discouraged after the last ultrasound, after my nurse decided to send me to see the doctor because she wasn't sure that I was going to ovulate .  I wanted to yell at her, I'd been charting for more than a year, I'd used ovulation testers, I KNEW I ovulated, how could she not believe me.  I felt as though they might give up on me.  But I didn't say anything.  The appointment with the doctor was what all of these tests were leading to.  I wanted it to happen before the end of the year, so I made an appointment, took off work again, and went solo.

I saw the doctor, the head guy in the practice.  He was awesome.  He said he was happy to see me smiling, because he got to see very few smiles.  There were a lot of things with me that were right, my thyroid, my egg reserve and although I was chunky, I wasn't THAT chunky that it was interfered with things.  In fact, he told me to stop bringing my weight up.   Although I had some of the indicators for PCOS, he wasn't labeling me as that.   I had lazy ovaries.  Sometimes they felt like doing right, sometimes they didn't.  The ovulated whenever they got around to it.   This according to him was easily rectified with drugs.  I'd do Clomid again, but three times as much, and would have a trigger.  An injection administered by me to prompt ovulation so that we could time insemination.   The doctor told me he knew it'd work for me, not because of my medical file, but because of my attitude.  I immediately chalked this up to b.s. and figured that it was something he told everyone, although he assured me he did not.  I was not convinced.

And Jethro... who'd fought it tooth and nail, was fine. His swimmers were swimming their tails off. 

I told my boss about what was going on, and she was extremely supportive.  She knew "something" was going on because of all of the days I'd taken off.  She knew I might run late because of the bloodwork, but all was well.  I also had the most supportive friends and family ever in my corner.  I had an awesome support system and was ready to get things started.

(Link to Part 3) 
(Link to Part 4)

Friday, February 22, 2013

Perfect People Don't Need Bonus Points

I was watching the Robin Roberts special, and she said something profound, that I needed to hear.

"No where is it written that we should not be happy , that you get extra bonus points at the end because you trudged along, you did what you should do"

Woah.  Simple enough right?  But it's not for me.  That's not to say that I'm depressed or unhappy.  But I don't make my own happiness a priority.  Ever.  At some point, I convinced myself, that I had to be as selfless as possible.  I honestly believe(d) that by putting my own needs last, I was being the best me that I can be.  That can't be true.  While it is important that I put my family first, if I'm doing all of this self-sacrificing, there won't be any of me left.

Truth be told, I've found myself several times looking for those bonus points. Turns out, if you think you're being selfless, and do something for someone else, but never tell that person, they won't know!  They'll have no idea that you're doing all of these "sacrifices" or that you're putting their needs first.  And you never get your bonus points!

Since I'm keeping it real with myself.  If I'm looking for bonus points, was I really being selfless in the first place?  Or is this another instance of my need to be seen as perfect?  A perfect person would be selfless, and wouldn't brag/boast about what they did.

Perfect people don't exist. I am not perfect.  There are no bonus points, I've got to find balance.

Maybe that's my goal for 2013, balance.  Yes, I know it's February.   There's still plenty of time.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

My Infertility Story - Part I

Infertility.  It's not something that we talk about.  Especially not in the black community.  It's not something that you're proud of, the fact that your body doesn't do what it was designed to do.  It's not easy to voice the fears, concerns, stress, drama, and shame that what other people are able to achieve accidentally, you can't even with charts and a plan.  Therefore, I've decided to tell my story.  My guess is it'll take three parts.

Jethro (I still can't believe he wants to be called that) and I got married in 2005.  We bought our first home in October 2007, a 3 bedroom house, with a huge backyard.  I was 28 and ready to start a family.  In my mind, I'd done everything the right way.  I had a Masters, a good job and was married.  It was the perfect time for us to have a baby.   I stopped taking the pill on January 1, 2008, and I was sure that we'd be pregnant in no time.  I bought a new truck at the end of that month because my baby wasn't going to be riding around in my old one.  That first cycle, my period didn't show for seven weeks.  I must've taken 10 pregnancy tests that month.  And I was buying the good ones.  Probably 80% of my FSA money for 2008 was spent on pregnancy tests.    I chalked up the first wonky cycle to my body working the pill out of my system.   Then I had another, and another, and another.

I found myself in Target a lot, cruising the baby aisles.  When gender neural items would go on clearance, I'd buy them and add them to my bin in the basement.  I bought bottles, t-shirts and washcloths.  I kept putting more and more miles on my brand new truck that was "for the baby."   I went to the doctor and was told the standard "try for a year..."  Wonky cycles or no, the advice is always, try for a year first, and then we'll investigate.  I knew something wasn't quite right.  Even though my cycles were getting shorter, things weren't right.   I took the first step, buying ovulation testers and a basal body thermometer to try and track my ovulation.    I charted everything, and it made no difference.

When I went back to the doctor after he first year, she offered Clomid, the gateway infertility drug at the smallest possible dosage for three months.  It was supposed to also normalize my cycle, which it did, but still nothing. 

That's not completely true. It turns out, "I need your swimmers, I'm totally fertile right now" is not a turn on. Jethro would say ok I'll be up after this show and then conveniently wait until I was asleep. I tearfully accused him more than once of sabotaging me. I didn't give any thought to what he was feeling. He was frustrated as well, and my request that he have his sperm count tested was not met with rainbows and butterflies. I'd learn later that he was already blaming himself and was worried that I'd leave if he couldn't give me a baby. In a lot of ways , I felt like I was trying on my own. He had adult children from a previous relationship so what did he care? I kept it to myself, refusing to become the crazy can't have kids lady that everyone walks on eggshells around, including my husband.

Jethro and I started to discuss the issue.  What if I couldn't have kids?  Would we be open to adoption?  Could we afford adoption?  Were fertility treatments an option?

I didn't go back to the doctor after those three rounds of Clomid.  In hindsight, I didn't really have a good reason why, except the fact that going back to the doctor was kind of like admitting that I was a failure.    Friends and family would ask when were were going to fill the house up with babies.  I had a standard line of defense "We're working on it, but there's no rush".   My mother-in-law once quipped "you always say that".  But I wasn't up for telling the truth.  Because with the truth comes the advice that no one wants to hear "Just relax and enjoy yourselves", "it'll happen", "it's probably nothing".

I kept things to myself, but admittedly got discouraged.  People were getting pregnant all over the place, and all I had was a bunch of negative pregnancy tests.  My step-daughter had a baby, and all of my items in the bin went to her.

After nearly two years of trying, and failing, fate intervened.   One of my coworkers and I were chatting and she asked if I had kids.  I gave her my standard response and she said "don't wait too long" and told me about her journey with infertility.  After trying IUI and IVF, she and her husband were adopting. She heard my go-to line and heard what I wasn't saying.   She became my confidant, and a few months later, back to the doctor I went.  

(Link to Part II)
(Link to Part III)
(Link to Part IV) 

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

I'm not angry, I'm not angry at all

A week ago, one of my favorite bloggers posted about her anger issues.  And I was inspired to talk about my own. 

I am not in touch with my feelings.  In fact, my feelings and I aren't even in the same zip code.  If my feelings and I were on a map, I'd be hanging out in San Francisco, while my feelings vacationed in Maine.  And I like it that way.  I'm a logical thinker.  In most instances, my thought process looks like this

As thoughts should.  Feelings make things complicated.  I don't like complicated.  I hate clouded judgment.  I hate not being able to make rational decisions because everything is a big jumble.  My brain shouldn't look like this.

If I'm honest about it, I see most feelings as a sign of weakness.  I KNOW this is wrong, that feelings are a part of life, that we are both logical and emotional creatures.  Doesn't change things.    I'm known as the cool, calm and collected one, and I believe this is part of the issue.  My perfectionist tendencies don't allow me to be angry.  Perfect people aren't angry.   So I don't have angry outbursts, or snap judgments.  Instead, I simmer.  Something will make me mad and I'll sit on it.  I may even have arguments in my head with the other person.  But I don't say anything, instead I act as though nothing is wrong.  I KNOW this isn't healthy.  I KNOW that I'm not doing myself or the other party any favors by keeping my mouth shut.   What I don't know is how to express that anger without feeling like I'm out of control, or looking like a crazy person. 
How do you do it?  How do you give a voice to your anger without being consumed by it? 

Monday, February 18, 2013

The Kids Taught Me

I've been teaching Sunday School for four years now.  I joined my church in early 2009, when I was going through one of the biggest trials of my life.   I was stressed and depressed and coming to terms with the fact that I couldn't get back on track alone. 

During the new members meeting, it was suggested that every one join a ministry, that we should all serve one another.  I chose children's church.  I was given the choice between grade school kids and 2-3 year olds.  I didn't hesitate to take the little people.  It felt great to think that I could help these little people learn about God, even though they were at an age where having a lot of structure was asking for a lot.  I didn't realize that these babies that I was going to "teach" were going to have such an impact in my life.

My first class took it easy on me.  Only 7 kids, all mostly calm, all in that cute "I want to help" , "I'm so cute" phase.   Full of cuddles.  Of course it wasn't always like that, but even on "bad" days they lifted me.   I was forced to check my negative feelings at the door, because even though I was only with them for a couple of hours, they deserved better than that.  They inspired me to do better.   They forced me to smile, to relax, to enjoy life.  They helped teach me toddler patience (which is way different than the patience needed for adults) which is coming in quite handy now with Ladybug.

The crazy thing is now, even though I've been doing it for four years, it seems like I just started.

Things have changed a bit, and now my class has 3-4 year olds.  Yesterday, when I walked into my class room, it was almost as if I was seeing things for the first time.  Instead of the little people who had just turned two, there were these "big" kids in my room.  Big kids who can cite bible verses and can sit through an entire lesson.  "Big" kids who I can remember when they were just a baby bump. Yesterday, it hit me, how much I've grown with them.  How they're going to move on to the next class, but some of what they experienced with me will linger.  I finally realized how much they've helped me and how I'm a better person because of them.  They bless me more than they'll ever know, and I'm thankful to be able serve them.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Random Update of Randomness

I've been lax with posting lately.  When I started this blog I said I was going to do better.  So I'm challenging myself  again to post daily.   I really do have a lot of things to talk about.  But I haven't forced myself to sit down and write. 

Until Friday, I'd done really well with the shred.   Then it didn't happen Saturday, and I ran around in a giant circle today and I'm going to be hurtin for certain when it's time to work out tomorrow.  The good news is that my break seemed to be what my knee needed.   I'm participating in Biggest Loser at work and through the first 3 weeks I'm in 9th place.  The top 3 win money.  I like money.  A lot.  A whole big ole lot.  I need to get focused so I can win the money and then do something responsible with it and then be mad at myself for not being irresponsible.

I found out my car is about a million dollars in the negative this weekend. That is extra not cool.  Especially since I'd decided a day and a half ago that I needed to trade my truck in for a teeny tiny fuel efficient car.  Like just a tad bigger than a clown car.  I hate when gas prices go up, I drive way too far (90 miles a day) for gas to be $4 a gallon. 

While I was waiting on my car, I went to the mall with Ladybug and my mom.  We went into a store that I'd never heard of before, but that I liked a lot and signed up for their emails.  Today, I received the first email, and my first thought was ohhhh... too bad I don't know when I'm going to be that way again.  Like I was on vacation or something.  The mall is like 20 minutes from my house.  That is sad.  The mall is like a foreign land now. 

I really wanted to go see BeyoncĂ©, but since there were no tickets at the inn, I've watched this dang documentary approximately eleventy times.  She puts on an awesome show. So if anyone wants to give me tickets that would be greeeeaaaaatttttt.  Yes, give.

Freezer cooking has been such a time and stress saver for me.  Today was the first meal that I was like "meh" about. It had such potential. The recipe called for frozen broccoli.  If I make this again, I'll leave the broccoli out until the very end.  it gave off way too much water and my chicken alfredo ended up soupy.  Decent flavor but soupy.  meh.

Monday, February 11, 2013

Getting fit huuurrrttttssss

Getting in shape is hard work.

I've been offline for a while, it started with Ladybug getting sick, then me getting sick, and then a whole lot of trying to get back into the swing of things.

I started the Shred a few days later than I anticipated due to a wicked case of the bubble guts (you're welcome!).  It was both easier and harder than I thought it'd be.  You know you're in trouble when your arms get tired while doing the warm-up windmills.  And then she wanted me to do push-ups.  No, not the ice cream.  Push my body up with my own arms!  I could do about 1/52nd of one.

Prior to the first workout, I decided I didn't need a sports bra because no one could see me work out.  That was an epic fail and I may have sustained some eye damage. *ahem*  I rectified that rather quickly.  I didn't need to make up any new swear words, but I did walk around in a circle chanting the f word repeatedly.  (you should try it, it's therapeutic).

Around day five, my knee started to bother me. My guess is I tweaked it doing jumping jacks (which Ladybug finds hilarious!) and continuing to work out on it was probably not the best idea. Because now it hurts for real, and my other knee is joining in on the fun.  I've modified some of the exercises to try and give it a break.  Although I'm still on Level 1, my stamina has greatly improved, I can do 7 or 8 push ups without stopping and I am chanting the f word less often.  I've noticed some changes in my arms, and legs, so I know I'm tightening up even if I'm not losing a lot of pounds.

It probably would've been a good idea to measure myself.  Hmmm.. Maybe tomorrow.

In an effort to give my knee a rest, I dusted off Power Yoga, which I don't think I ever did way back when I bought it.  Even though I was unfamiliar with the poses, it was easy to catch on to that part.  At least during the warm up.  Then they started going through the poses rather quickly (hence the POWER) and I got winded.  But then Ladybug rescued me (ha!), by insisting I do "Toddler Clinging To Mommy" in lieu of "Downward Facing Dog".  She also fast forwarded to the cool down.  Thanks kid!

I think I'll alternate the two, but be heavier on the shred.

How are your workouts coming along?

Friday, February 1, 2013

Scandal Blog: Mellie For The Win

Wow. So much scandal. So little time.


First and foremost! I told you so . People said I was crazy, turns out I was right and Mellie said it with her own mouth. She did not build Fitz up for some other woman to have him. All of her hard work, all of her efforts in making him feel good about himself was not wasted. Look! He's the President! In fact, if it weren't for Mellie getting him to get his stuff together, Fitz wouldn't be the man that Liv fell in love with in the first place. People try to act like they have no idea what this is about, but everyone knows someone (or was the someone) who's been through this. You meet someone, you like them, they've got issues but you deal with it, you see their potential. So you help them, "Upgrade them" as Beyonce would say. Helped them love themselves, supported them and instead they get an education (CDL, trade school, ITT Tech, pass the Post Office test), cleaned up their credit, got them clothes from the current decade. And that person blossoms and becomes all that you thought they could be. But are they thankful? Nope. Now they are "better" and think they can "do better" and enter Kanye's (who ever thought I'd quote HIM?!?!) famous line from Gold Digger. Pffft. Sorry bruh. Not Mellie. Mellie didn't put in all that work, fixing you up so you could leave her for somebody else. Nope. She'll take you out first.

Oh yeah. It's completely possible she did it. And purposely tried to set up Huck to implicate Olivia. She'd fix them both at once. She's not my first option, but I could see it. And I couldn't be mad at her. I've watched Snapped, sometimes you've just got to kill him. She's given him her life and three babies. And she tried to warn him. Sorry Fitz.

I will say I'm surprised that baby was real. Very. And I wouldn't be surprised if they have to go on Maury, but I'm okay with that too. I'm not saying it's right, I'm just saying I understand.


Huck is my favorite character. I'd like him to be my friend. He's the most loyal and honest person on the show. He'd walk through fire for his friends, especially Liv. He doesn't judge. Yeah, he kills people sometimes, but only when they deserve it. Or someone's paid him well. But outside of that one little flaw, he's cool. It's funny how the character who on the surface is the most corrupt truly has the purest character.


People sleep on Cyrus. Everyone talks about Hollis being the spawn of Satan, but somehow Cyrus flies under the radar. They like to say that Fitz is "pure" and "good" but truth is he's just as dirty as the rest of them, he just uses Cyrus to do it. He's a vote rigging, baby stealing, intern murdering manipulator and no one calls him on it (except Huck). Liv is finally starting to see him for who he is, and it'll be interesting to see where things go.

While I could see Mellie being responsible for the assassination attempt, I don't think it'll go that way. That'd be too easy. And it'd give Fitz a good out even if she played the "I was a crazy pregnant lady cause my husband was cheating on me" card. Shonda seems to like to make her characters work for their happiness. This is only season one. It took Meredith and Derek like 7. Way too easy way too early.

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I'm a 30-something wife, mom and pet parent. I've been blogging since 2004, at first solely on a blog for my friends and family. I love to write about everything. I can't say that A Bacon Flavored Life is about any one thing. If it occurs to me, it'll get posted. I write about life, love, infertility and a lot of "random".

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