Wednesday, January 30, 2008

On the subject of fathers and such

So, I have this addiction to a show on MTV called True Life. Every time it comes on, I do my damnedest to watch it. I'm sure you can imagine my excitement when I discovered that it was on at the ass crack of who the fuck is awake right now.

The one that I watched was called I'm Looking For My Father. This touched a nerve that I wasn't expecting. I thought that I was ok with the situation with my biological father, but now I'm wondering if that's really the case.

I didn't know my biological father until I was 18. Hell, I didn't even know that my step-dad wasn't my biological father until I was around 9 and found my baby book. I'm sure my mom was incredibly thrilled when I approached her asking why there was another man's name in the place of father. Heh.

I tried to look for him when I was in junior high school. I had a computer class and we were making databases in DOS. (HA! Holy shit those things were archaic. My screen was in green while everyone else's was orange. I was teh awesomest!)


So, I had this assignment to make a database of whatever I wanted. My brilliant idea was to get out ye ole phonebook and make one comprised of everyone in Flint with my biological father's last name. (At the time, my last name was the same as my step-father's. I was never formally adopted cuzz the judge ordered that my biological father had to sign off on me and no one could find him, but apparently all my mom had to do was teach me how to spell it and enroll me in school with any name she wanted to give me and no one asked questions. Damned lazy 80s people.) I got an A on my database and was left to sit there kinda twiddling my thumbs until I could figure out what to do with it. Now, the irrational fear of calling people on the phone was just beginning to blossom at that point, so there was no way in hell I was cold calling a damned stranger. Hell fuck no to that. So I decided to write a very basic letter telling whoever happened to read it what my name was and why I was writing to them. I then made photocopies of some of my baby pictures. I was all set to start mailing them out when my mom and step-dad decided to get divorced. Since this meant that my mom, my brother and I were moving, my mailing idea got put on hold indefinitely.

Fast forward to my senior year of high school. That's when I started dating Ron. (He's in some of my bday pictures) On one of our first dates, we went to his aunt's house and I got to meet his mother's extended family. Ron introduced me and one of his aunt's told me that I looked exactly like someone she used to know and asked my last name. When I told her, the entire room got quiet. I was asked if I knew someone that has my exact name. I replied that I was named after my grandfather Leslie and his wife who had passed when my biological father was 8, but that I didn't exactly know them. When I mentioned that my grandfather didn't like to be called Leslie and went by his middle name, it was like I had just told everyone that they had won the lottery. Come to find out, my Pee-Paw (grandfather), actually helped raise Ron's mother and sister's. And the person they thought I looked exactly like? That would be my biological father's mother, who passed when he was 8. So, that was a bit overwhelming! They gave me a picture from way, way back in the day, when my Pee-Paw and Ron's grandfather were teenagers and told me stories, but everyone had lost contact at some point before Ron was born or when he was just a bitty baby, I can't remember which. They also told us that we each had a cousin that was supposed to marry the other, but something happened and they split up, but apparently kept in contact with each other for the rest of their lives. (Hmm... Sounds a bit familiar, doncha think?)

Later that year, Ron and I were in a production of South Pacific. I had the lead, which meant that the local papers wanted to interview me for the stories they ran near show time. So, I was on the front page of one paper and had little blurbs in a lot of others. During one dress rehearsal, there was someone strange sitting out in the "audience". (It wasn't really an audience during rehearsals, but the tech people and the director were always out there watching) I assumed that it was the wife of the guy who played opposite me and continued on. After rehearsal, I went out to smoke cuzz I was a rebel. Or something. Anyway, when I came back in, this strange lady that had been watching approached me and told me she was my aunt. That didn't even phase me cuzz my mother's side of the family is so big that I'm meeting new relatives all the time. When she said aunt, I figured that she was a great aunt or something like that. When she mentioned that the last anyone knew, I was living in California, she had my attention. See, my mom's side of the family knew we were back cuzz we had been to like a billoionty family reunions since moving back to Michigan in like 1987. The only people that wouldn't know would've been my biological father's family. Come to find out, one of the relatives on that side of the family had read the front page article about the show and recognized my name. They started making phone calls and that lead her to the dress rehearsal. (The paper fucked up and labeled that an actual show date, so when she showed up to a closed rehearsal, she explained to the director what was going on and was allowed in.) We exchanged phone numbers, had a friend of mine take our picture and that was that.

The day I met my father was just like any other day, really. I was told that he might go to one of the shows, but to not get my hopes up cuzz he wasn't sure if he wanted to meet me with my mom's side of the family around. Understandable, there was some bad blood there. So, I went about my day as normal. When the curtain went up and made my first entrance, I happened to look out into the audience. He was dead center, with this HUGE smile plastered on his face. He was like that for the entire show. Afterwards, I pointed him out to my mom, who didn't really say much of anything. She was always very careful not to talk badly about him when I was around cuzz she wanted me to be able to form my own opinion of him, which I think was very awesome of her to do. He, my mom and my grandmother exchanged hellos and then my mom's family got the hell outta there so I could talk to him. It was pretty weird and we didn't have a lot of time (I was still in costume and everyone was pretty much waiting on me to lock the place up) so we made plans to have a family BBQ to welcome me back. He told me that I could meet my sister and brothers then.

Now, I'd known that I had a sister cuzz she was born when my biological father was still in my life. We're like 16 months apart or something. But I had no clue that I had two more brothers. I went to the BBQ and all went really well. All these family members that hadn't seen me since I was like 5 kept coming up to me and telling me I looked just like my grandmother and would tell me stories about how I would play with the chickens on my aunt's farm. It was a good day.

Over the next year, I would visit my other family periodically. I went out to visit my Pee-Paw in Florida and had a great time. I was always nervous to visit bio-dad cuzz they lived in Flint and I had never been deeper than the fuckin mall. One night, my biological father told me that he quit drinking the day after my mom left him and hadn't touched a drop since. Then we went up to the liquor store and he split a 12 pack with me. I was 19. I stopped trusting him at that point.

The final straw came when I got a phone call at like 1 in the morning from one of my brother's telling me that if I didn't get out there to watch him and the youngest one, they'd be taken away to foster care cuzz my biological father was going to jail. I talked to the cops and told them that I was on my way. When I got there, he was sitting on the ground outside the cop car. When I asked what was wrong, they said that he thought he was having a heart attack. (I later learned that this was a favorite tactic of his to get out of going to jail.) When I asked what happened, I learned that my youngest brother's mother (dudes, just so you know, we're about to enter Jerry Springerville. You might wanna hold on tight.) left my biological father for the dude across the street. I guess he liked to rub it in my bio-dad's (that's so much easier to type) face by knocking on the door and telling him what a good fuck she was. Well, on this particular night, my bio-dad decided to do something about it. He closed the door, went to the back yard, got a shovel, came back to the front door, opened it and beat the shit out of the guy with the shovel. All in front of my youngest brother. The cops hauled bio-dad off and I was left in a bad part of Flint with my two younger brothers and my ex-husband. (We were 19 then, so not married. Yet.) Oh! And the dude that bio-dad beat with the shovel? Yeah, he was at home across the street. Needless to say, I was freaked out. Called my sister and was told that bio-dad does that shit all the time and to not bother her with it. Finally tracked down the one brother's mom (my sister and one of my brothers share the same mom) and she told me I'd have to wait till she got out of work before she could pick up the one brother. No clue what was gonna happen to the youngest brother. I finally talked Marsha into taking both boys and went home. My ex-husband got to deal with the after math.

I pretty much cut contact with bio-dad after that. I brought Alex over to see him once when he was around 2. Lost contact with my sister and brothers. Pretty much stopped talking to that whole side of my family. I only meant to cut out bio-dad, not everyone.

Last year, I worked with someone who turned out to be my cousin on bio-dad's side of the family. They were having a family reunion that I wasn't able to attend, but she went and told everyone about me. She gave my sister my phone number and pretty much got us all back in contact. My sister and I talk almost every day and usually see each other every Wednesday when I get out of darts. Lately, it's been every other cuzz I work every other Thursday and I just can't hang with the big boys like I used to, but we're getting pretty close. I keep my nephew (who is 19 younger than my son) every Tuesday. (Coincidentally, as I was typing that, he woke up for the day. LOL) I've seen my youngest brother once, but I talk to him on the phone occasionally and I talk to his girlfriend on MySpace sometimes. I talk to my other brother (not sure what to call him. He's younger, but he's also the same age as Jesse, the one that just left for the ARMY) on occasion, too. The only one who I don't talk to is bio-dad. The only time I've spoken to him was when he came to pick up my youngest brother and his girlfriend when they came to visit me. He said maybe 5 words and that was it. When my youngest brother called on Christmas, he wouldn't talk to me. Said he was too sick.

I'm not really sure where to go at this point. I've got my siblings in my life, so I'm thinking that I might just need to be happy with that and move on. I'm incredibly happy to have them in my life, so that's awesome. I just kinda wish Scott, that's bio-dad's name, would talk to me for a bit. But you can't always get what you want, right?

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

So, I discovered that I can tweak the colors of my layout. And I did. I was trying to see about changing the background to a picture that I have on my computer, but I'm not that techno-savvy. Damn not knowing how to code everything. I do ok on MySpace, but they have little helper things that I can use on there. I wonder if those codes would work over here. Hmm...

I'm procrastinating. I should be cleaning, but I hate cleaning. I should go grocery shopping, but I'm paranoid that I'll be late to pick the boy up from school. So, the shopping will come after I pick up the boy and the nephew from their schools. Should be interesting. I'm thinking I might just put that off until tomorrow, but I think I should probably just suck it up and do it today. We're supposed to get rain tonight and the temp is supposed to drop so drastically that everything is gonna freeze over. I'm expecting there to be no school for either boy tomorrow. Joy.

I tried to get new tires today, but they told me that they didn't have a full set in stock. WTF? I drive a fucking cavalier. They should have tired for a pretty common car. Bastards.

I might come on here later tonight and write more crap. I'm feeling a bit emo as of late and writing is good for the emo soul. I'm just out of words right now. Heh.

Friday, January 25, 2008


Here's a funny story for you...

I was being a good girlfriend and picked Greg up a case of beer before I went home Wednesday night. We didn't have any in the house and I know how he likes his beer and I was feeling like being nice. Or something. At any rate, I bought a case of bottles. I also stopped at Taco Bell cuzz he wanted tacos.

(It should probably be noted that I was dressed all girl like again. I even had on girl shoes with heels! Remember that, it comes into play later)

I get home and briefly consider making Greg come out to get the beer. I decide against it cuzz I'm the awesome girlfriend! I can do it all! So, I gather my purse (read: duffel bag), the tacos from hell and get into the backseat to get the beer. I make it up the stairs of the porch and kick the screen door to make Greg open the door for me.

It had snowed that day and night and the porch had not been cleaned off. I should've known right then that this was not going to end well.

Greg started to open the door. I stepped back a bit to make room.

And then I began to fall.

Greg said it looked like I was just kinda sliding down the railing. In reality, I was desperately trying to hold on to the railing to keep myself from falling all the way down the porch. I failed.

My hand got caught in the railing. I scraped my pinky and ring fingers relatively badly and thought that I had possibly broken them. I have a goose egg bruise on my hip, a bruised scratch on my thigh and a bruised knee. My ass feels like it's a giant bruise, though I have yet to see discoloration. My fat roll feels like a giant bruise as well and may or may not look the way it feels. I can't tell.

Why is the fat roll bruised you ask? Simple.


When I was falling, I managed to maneuver myself to catch the case of beer with my stomach. I think it may have been an unconscious attempt to free my uterus and ovaries from their horrid captivity.

But hey, I caught the beer. Out of 24 bottles, not a damned one broke.

It's all about priorities.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Damn it!

I tried to post MOAR pictures from my birthday (cuzz, really, you guys LOVE to see me drunk! I know you do.) but the way that I had it set up cuts off like half the damned picture. Grr. I hate uploading with the photo thingie on here cuzz it always puts the pictures at the very top of the entry and then I have to cut and paste and cut and paste and I forget which picture is which and which caption goes where and it's all very tedious so I am protesting it.

Well, right now anyway.

I'm working 16 hours today (0700 - 2300 if you're interested), so there's a very strong possibility that I'll get the ambition to repost that entry before I'm done for the night. We shall see...

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

My doctor's office called yesterday and they had the results of my upper abdominal ultrasound. (She ordered one after I had 2 blood tests that showed I had elevated liver enzymes). It seems that I have something called Fatty Liver, which is common with PCOS.

The site I've found most helpful in describing this

So, she's told me that I need to lose weight, which I've been saying for some time as well. She suggested either Weight Watchers or the South Beach Diet, since both will show me how to eat the right calories with normal food instead of having food and meals delivered to me. I checked out Weight Watchers online and it's $65 for a 3 month subscription. (I should be able to start that in the middle of next month after all the bills and stuff are paid.) I'm also gonna see about FINALLY getting the excersize bike and AbLounge that I've been wanting to get for the last 2 years.

She also wanted me to start taking Glucophage/Metformin again, which I told her I will not do. If you guys don't remember, that's the same drug Dr. Dutt started me on when I was first diagnosed with PCOS and it made me horribly ill. Dr. Kingsbury said that he strongly believes that I'm allergic to it after I described my symptoms to him and it IS listed on my allergies sticker on my chart, so I'm not sure why she said she wanted me on it again. I told them that they can prescribe it all they want to (and by they I mean the office staff) but that I would not fill the prescription. I can't afford to barely be able to get out of bed.

So, that's that, I suppose. She mentioned that my liver is bigger than normal, but not by much. Here's to hoping it was caught in time and that permenant damage hasn't already been done...

(Also, a friend of mine took a shit ton more pictures from Saturday that I'll be posting at some point. There are some really funny ones. :-P)

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Oh dudes.

I feel normal now but this morning? That was a bit rough. I was PLOWED last night. And apparently I was quite the asshole, which makes me AWESOME!

Onward to the photographic evidence!!!

The beginning. While sober.

That is me and my mommy and my sister and her mommy.

Me, Ron (I've written about him before) and Melanee. I met them when I first started doing community theater back in 1997.

My dart girls!

My sister and her mommy again.

My mommy and the brother that joined the ARMY.

I have NO clue what I am giving that look to or why I even felt the need to give that look. But, it amuses me.

Me and the brother.

Aw. Becky, Jesse and me. That pictures so cute that it makes me vomit in my mouth a little. :-P

And that is when it became apparent that, yes, I was drunk and yes, I was having a GREAT time being an asshole!

Singing Three's Company. Damn we're witty.

Ok, so Ron sang and Melanee and I laughed. Hard.

Singing something. Can't remember what. How ya like that inner tube I'm sportin there? o_O

I love that picture of Dawn.

And further proof that the booze kicked my ass. I never dance. Unless I'm drunk. And then I dance very badly. Like how my hair matches the wall? :-P

So, this is where Rhonda and I decide to show the camera our asses. Notice the look on my face. That look gives me away. Fo realz, yo.

When I first saw my sister again (we lost contact for a few years), it was her birthday. When I got to the bar, she was already drunk and she had to tell EVERYONE she saw that I was her sister. It's become a little joke with us. So, there I am, drunk with MY SISTER!

And there I am, drunk with Dawn, who wasn't drunk but insanelt tired.

So, Jesse leaves to go to MEPS tomorrow and then he ships out to Ft. Campbell on Tuesday. Last night, I made Becky sing A Different Kind of Pain by COLD and it just set me off. I don't want him to go. Anyway, I started crying like an asshole and one of us (not sure if it was me or him) decided that we should dance to some song. You can actually see Jesse trying not to cry. And it breaks my heart.

So, there's the photographic evidence for ya! There was quite a turn out. We had a good portion of the place monopolized. And, even better than that, I had a great time. Hooray for being a drunken asshole!

Saturday, January 12, 2008

I am a bundle of nerves.

I get so incredibly anxious before any event I plan that I typicaly just do things spur of the moment to save myself the worry and the nervousness. I'm always afriad that something will go wrong. My biggest fear has always been that no one will show. Or that maybe 3 people will and I'll look like an even bigger loser than I actually am.

So fucking nervous.

I'm sitting here with hair dye on my head, listening to Five Finger Death Punch. I fucking LOVE this band! I saw them at either Ozzfest or The Family Values tour (I really think it was Ozzfest, but I just can't remember) and I wanted to jump in the pit so bad that it pissed me off a little. Had the stage they were playing on not been on asphalt, I so would've jumped in. I pussied out, though, cuzz I just didn't feel like nursing broken bones and/or horrible bloody scrapes. You should have seen some of the injuries. People just kept getting crazier and crazier! It was fucking awesome. I felt bad for the people that got hurt, but they knew what they were getting into the moment they stepped into that pit. No one complained about it either, which was cool. There are some people out there that will jump in the pit and then come out crying that it was too rough. o_O

I've got some heartburn goin on. Think I better take my Pepcid before I go.

Damn. Typing that sentence made me feel incredibly old. Hell, I'll only be 28 tomorrow, but I feel so much older. Ugh.

Welp, I'm ready now (due to the break I took to rinse my now incredibly red hair and to do my make up). I even decided to girl it up tonight, though I'm looking rather pudgy. Oh well. Time for booze!

Sunday, January 06, 2008

♪So I kissed him upside the cranium with an aluminum baseball bat♪

I fucking love Primus.

I've been sitting here playing Dynomite and listening to music for the better part of my day so far and I am having FUN. At work. :-/ Something seems so very wrong with that statement.

I think I am also experiencing a sugar rush that can only possibly be rivaled by smoking a crack pipe. Sadly, I left my crack at home this morning, so I cannot prove this theroy.

The other night, Greg and I decided to trap the two little kitties under a laundry basket just to see what they'd do. I wanted to see if we could have a Kitties in the Cage match, ala WWE, but they disappointed me. They just layed down next to each other and cleaned a little while they tried to keep their eyes open. So then Greg? Well, he has this gas problem. Mainly, he farts ALL.THE.TIME.


Greg has to fart. We're sitting on the couch, half assed watching the TV and trying to see how long it's gonna take the kittens to realize that HEY! They're not able to move about freely! He starts giggling. He then proceeds to squat in front of the laundry basket so his ass is pointing directly at the kitten's faces. And then he ripped off the most ginormous fart I have ever heard him release. He didn't admit it, but I'm willing to bet that it hurt his ass a little. The kittens pick that time to just lose their shit. They could not escape the fart. And I laughed! And laughed and laughed. Greg let them out after about 30 seconds, but I laughed for like 1/2 an hour. He later commented on how hard it usually is to find a chick who will laugh at that kind of thing. I told him that farts are ALWAYS funny. Always.

And that's been basically it. Go in for an ultrasound after I drop the boy off at school and finally get my post op appt taken care of tomorrow afternoon. I was supposed to have it Wednesday, but Mother Nature decided to shit out about a metic ton of snow, so I cancelled. Weeha. What an exciting life I lead. :-P

Saturday, January 05, 2008

Blarg. I wan to blog, but am lacking anything of intrest to blog about.

Then again...

My brother decided to join the ARMY. His ship date for basic was supposedly to be the day after my birthday next week. That's right. I said supposed. Seems the FBI told the ARMY that my brother is a security risk. HAHAHAHA!!! Wait, it gets better. The reason he's a "security risk"? Cuzz he owes a shit ton of money to the state treasury for bullshit Driver Responsibility fees. Now, I've had these fees before, too. Spent well over $2000 paying those bullshit fees. Well, I spent $1000 thinking that I was done cuzz I had paid the intial fee. Imagine my surprise when I received my notice to pay SECOND YEAR fees. Oh yeah. They made me pay AGAIN. Assholes. And people wonder why this state sucks so much ass. Seriously, I can barely keep my bills paid and have to forgo certain things that I'm legally obligated to have (does anyone else understand what a waste of money car insurance is in this state? Especially when you have to choose between keeping your child housed and fed or have insurance on your car? Ugh.). But this post is about my brother.


So yeah. Aparently the FBI thinks that he's a security risk cuzz my family isn't swimming in gold coins like Scrooge McDuck. I love knowing that they are willing to rip a man from his family when he is inches away from being done with the whole military thing, but they won't take a young man who WANTS to go cuzz he can't pay bullshit fines that he should be able to contest but CAN'T cuzz that's the way the law was written. (Seriously, once you get a ticket, if you get one that warrents these fees, you can not dispute it under any circumstances. The government has to get their money somehow. Makes me wonder how the hell the state is so fucking broke.) From what I understand, the reason his fees are so high is cuzz the cop that pulled him over was a fucking moron. He was pulled over for his windshield being cracked which, hey, it's illegal so it should've gotten him pulled over. Got that, no problem with that. This wasn't too long after he'd had shoulder surgery and he had a prescription with him. So, since the cop didn't know what the medication was, he decided to arrest my brother and charge him with carrying a controlled substance. In court, it was proven that he didn't have a controlled substance but rather a prescription for anti-inflamatories. My brother had a moment of brilliance and left the narcotics he'd received for pain at home. So that shit got thrown out of court. Well, the Driver Responsibilty fee about the controlled substance wasn't and can't be challenged. Complete bullshit.

My mom wrote to all the senators and congress people yesterday (when they were told they had 48 hours to get things taken care of or he couldn't go to boot camp) and I guess my brother had already heard from some of them by yesterday afternoon. Hopefully they can do something about this. I don't know if he can take another blow like this. He's been trying so fucking hard to do SOMETHING with his life and just when things start going his way, something happens to blow him out of the water.

So, there's that bitch. In other news, there will be birthday shinanagans next weekend. Going to ye ole karaoke bar to get hammered and slur through some songs and call it singing. From what I've been told, since I took Saturday AND Sunday off this year, I'll be drunk all weekend. Ya know what? After the bullshit weekend I've been having, that sounds SO awesome. I hate my bank with the fire of a millionty firey suns spewing fire and will be changing banks as soon as I can. But that's another bitch for another time.


Huh. Looks like I may have run out of things to type about. Well, since I've run out of things to tell the intarwebs, you should bask in the glory that is my links list on the side bar there. Isn't she pretty?

Friday, January 04, 2008

For some reason, I feel compelled to offer up some sort of post about Britney. I'm not going to make a post about her, though, cuzz really? Not my place. I think what makes me feel so compelled is the fact that I feel so damned bad for her. We all have HIPAA whenever we get any kind of medical attention and if that confidentiallity gets breached some how? HOLY SHIT! Everyone and their brother gets sued and there's a huge payout and people lose their jobs. With her? Not so much. I would've hated to be the crew on that ambulance. It's hard enought to work a scene with local media outlets, I can't even begin to imagine what a circus it was just to pull into her driveway. It's so obvious that there is ACTUALLY SOMETHING WRONG with her. Leave her the fuck alone already.

In other news, I wore jeans today that are a wee bit too tight. This does not amuse me. How did I manage to find pants that were too tight? Well, the answer to that could be found by simply looking at my horribly messy bedroom. Instead of carpet, I have clothes. (Ok, so there's carpet under the clothes, but you wouldn't know it. I am willing to bet that the carpet in my bedroom is the exact same color as it was when I moved in three years ago) I kept my bedroom clean when I first moved in ye ole homestead, but when greg moved in, it all went to shit for some reason. Not sure why. Anyway, I woke up this morning and looked at the clock. It read 620, so I rolled over to doze for another 10 minutes cuzz I didn't really need to get out of bed until 545. That's right, I typed 545. It took me about 2 minutes to realize that it was well past 545 and I needed to get the hell out of bed. I woke Greg up (on his one day off cuzz I rawk!) and asked him to go start my car so I could shower in record time. He mumbled something and I thought he didn't hear me and was still sleeping. I didn't have time to double check, though, as I ran into the bathroom with whatever clothes happened to be in the clean clothes basket. (Shut up, I have a system!) I showered and brushed my teeth and was out the door at 635. I pulled out off the little street that leads to the big main road and was on my way. Suddenly, the rail block thingies went down and a pretty little train started to inch it's way through. Fuckin trains. (Dudes, you seriously do not, nor will you really ever, comprehend my insane hatred for trains. I grew up in a town SURROUNDED by trains. Our mascot? The Railroader. Fucking trains...) I managed to get to work with a minute to spare thanks to speeding, but I think I forgot to clock in. Ugh. Anyway, that's how I wound up wearing too tight jeans and they have become the bane of my existance. MUST.KILL.THE.JEANS. And quite possibly the bra, too.

Huckabee. That's not an endorsement by any means, I just really like to say Huckabee. It's fun.

I am going to try to figure out how to link other blogs on my sidebar thingie. I feel like I should share these blogs I refresh over and over like a stalker with other people.

I want an air horn.

My birthday is coming up. It seems there was supposed to have been a surprise party set up for me, but that's not happening now due to a lack of intarwebs. (Not mine, obviously, but my friend who was setting it up) Same thing happened last year. Well, not exactly the same thing. She was gonna throw me a surpirse party last year, but our dart league banquet was on the day of my birthday, so I guess that meant it was a no go. Wonder if it will be attempted next year?


So, Greg and I are gonna stop being so obsessively careful about not making babies. I doubt anything will come of it, but it's kind of nice to imagine, I guess. I just got to see my friend, Amanda's, new bitty boy and my friend, Rob's, bitty boy was just in here yesterday (he was born Saturday and is SUCH a cute bitty fuzzball!) and the babies. They are contagious. Well, in the wanting them aspect at least. I mean, really, Greg and I aren't really all that careful anyway, so babies could have happened by now, but they haven't. I really don't think they will. I'm thinking we're just not gonna change anything now that I'm typing this. It's bringing tears to my eyes just thinking about it not happening. Ugh.

On that note, I think I'm gonna stop. I'd been trying to come up with a summary of 2007, but I couldn't really think of anything to write. Suffice it to say that 2007 was the Year of the Doctor and of Adopting Little Bitty Kitties! The kitties aren't so bad. :-P

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

So, with the help of Cricket, here's my Year in Review thingie. Greg works tonight and the boy goes back to school tomorrow, so I might sit down tonight and write actual paragraphs. Key word here is might. I think it'd be kinda cool to do something like that, I think, it's just a matter of me actually sitting down and doing it.

1) Where did you begin 2007?
I began the year at work. This was back when I was working 7 days a week so make sure that dispatched was staffed. The bossman fired someone or they quit or something and we only had 3 dispatchers instead of 4.
2) What was your status on New years day?
Blue Collar?
3) Were you in school (anytime this year)?
Not this year
4) How did you earn your money?
By telling people where to go.
5) Did you have to go to the hospital?
A few times
6) Did you have any encounters with the police?
Not due to illegal activity. When you work EMS, you sometimes make friends with the po-po.
7) Where did you go on holidays?
Uh... Work. With the exception of Christmas day anyway.
8) What did you purchase that was over $1,000?
Your MOM
9) Did you know anybody who got married?
Yep. Went to the wedding in Indiana. And then Indiana ate my cell phone.
10) Did you know anybody who passed away?
Yeah. A friend and a grandparent.
no 11
12) Did you move anywhere?
Nope. I can honestly say that this is the longest I've lived in one place.
13) What concerts/shows did you go to?
A shit ton. Family Values Tour, Ozzfest... Numerous shows at the Machine Shop.
no 14
15) Are you registered to vote?
16) Who did you want to win Big Brother?
Uh... I've never actually watched that show.
17) Where do you live now?
18) Describe your birthday?
Drunken bar hopping fueled by Long Island Iced Teas
19) What's one thing you thought you'd never do but did in 2007?
Bait a fishing hook?
20) What has been your favorite moment?
Probably getting back in touch with my sister and two brothers.
21) What's something you learned about yourself?
That I put up with FAR more bullshit than most people
22) Any new additions to your family?
Kitties! Bisty Lee and Nala Kathleen
23.) What was your best month?
Uh... August? That's the month the boy was born, so it's usually pretty nifty
24.) Any surgeries, and if so, on what?
Yep. Laprascopy and a bladder dilation.
25) Who has been your best drinking buddy?
Melanee and Sherry
26) Made new friends?
Hmm... If I have, it feels like they've been around forever
27) New best friend?
Nah, same ones
28) Favorite Night out?
29) Did you find love?
Already had it
30) What was your proudest moment?
Let's go with the Ozzburn. That bitch was hardcore. Picture? OK!

That's in the parking lot trying to get to the truck. I was actually purple that night. I still have tan lines from it. And people wonder why I have a hate/hate relationship with the sun. o_O