It seems like I'm getting a lot more respect these days...but geez, I've had to really start being a bad ass to get it. I've had to find my Inner-Big-Black-Woman, my Inner-Tony-Soprano, AND my Inner-Robert-DeNiro. No more little nice girl. No more co-dependent doormat. And if you give me any crap, you're invited to my therapists office. Everyone's invited to her office. Even the president of the United States. However, I know he's busy and may be a little intimidated by the directness of my shrink's questions. Now, I know Robert DeNiro never had a therapist in Taxi Driver. But boy did he need one!

In case you don't want to come to my therapists office, that's fine. Just get ready for the ice storm! Cuz I'm not messin' around!

Just for today, I am not taking anymore crap!