So, I was going to update about seeing Stone Sour, Deftones and Korn on Saturday the 9th, but I was rudely interrupted by a fire extinguisher.
Yes, a fire extinguisher. Let me tell you a story!
I'm sitting at work, minding my own business and doing what I'm supposed to be doing at work. I'm listening to a nurse or an assistant or someone that doesn't know what they're doing, trying to figure out where they want me to take a patient. Suddenly, there is a commotion behind me. One of the guys I work with had dropped his phone and bent down to pick it up while sitting in the Chairs of Death. (They are two chairs that are attached by a bar and tip over if you twitch wrong) The Chairs of Death live up to their name and proceed to tip. The chair that is in the air decides it will be a good idea to hit the fire extinguisher on the wall mount. The fire extinguisher pretty much says, "Screw this" and jumps off the wall mount. When it hit the floor, the floor got pissed and broke the pin that kept the handle from being squeezed. The pin, pissed off at the floor for breaking in, wedges itself into the handle, keeping it in the squeeze/deploy position. For some reason, the fire extinguisher was pissed off at ME and aimed directly at me, spewing forth it's fire stopping goodness. The ENTIRE fire extinguisher deployed in my office. I have asthma, so that pissed my lungs off. I was made to go to the ER where I work and they made me ride in the bambulance to the big hospital a few miles away. I was there over night and was told that I have chemical burns to my throat and lungs. I now have 3 inhalers to use and a pretty sexy, gravelly man voice. The crew that came in for the night shift visited me in the hospital that night. One of the crew is also a fire fighter. He tells me that something like that happening is seriously, like, 1 in a million odds.
The cracked out stuff ALWAYS happens to me.
I might update later about watching people fall in the mud at the concert. We'll see.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Imagine my surprise when I opened up blogger to update and found that I was already logged in. Wouldn't be that big of an issue at home, since I use mainly Explorer and Greg refuses to use anything but Mozilla, but I'm not at home. I'm at work. While I don't think anyone here would have the balls to mess with my blog (post a cracked out entry or something along those lines), I don't like the idea that had any of them been ambitious enough, they could have read every single thing I've ever written on here. That bothers me, probably a lot more than it should. There are things on here that I haven't even told my best friends about, let alone the people I work with. I don't think anyone here really cares that much about what I do with my life, so I'm probably safe, but it weirds me out a little. Meh.
So, budgeting is a bit better, I suppose. Still scraping, but I'm not as stressed out about it as I was. Rent has been paid, other things will be paid. I'll be putting off getting a couple of things I need, but I'll survive. I have one pair of pants I can wear and I can carry my purse with only one strap, even though I feel incredibly ghetto doing that, but I can put it off until next check. The boy turns 6 soon. I need to figure out what the hell I'm gonna get him for that. We're taking him to a Tiger's game on Sept 5th, which is about a week after his actual birthday, but he has no idea. Greg wanted to get tickets ON his birthday, but I have to work the next morning. I can't see keeping him out till around midnight, just to wake him up at 530AM so I can take him to his grandmother's so I can work. At least this way, it'll still be for his birthday and we can all sleep in the next day. His great grandmother is paying for him to have a birthday party at Chuck E Cheese's. My mom paid for one when he turned 4 and he absolutely loved it and started talking about it around her, so she figured that since he was talking so adamantly about it, why not? And that's cool, she knows there is just no way I could swing that. They want to do it ON his birthday, though. Really, it's not anything horrible, I just feel a little shorted, I guess. I made arrangements to have his birthday off and I was wanting to take him to this restaurant that he likes and invite family and whatever. I mean, I wouldn't be paying for everyone, but I thought it would be nice to have all his grandparents and which ever aunts and uncles could/would come out. Now, if I still want to do that, I need to figure out a different day. I'm not gonna say anything to her about it cuzz I know it means a lot for her to be able to that for him and who knows how long she's gonna be around? Not that I'm trying to put her into her grave before she's ready to go, but you just don't know when that might happen. It'll make everyone else happy, so why not? Maybe I can get everyone together the day before? Things have always been kind of a hassle when planning the boy's birthday festivities. My family and my ex-husband's family haven't really meshed together well since he took off with the boy when he was 4 months old. The ex told his family a bunch of lies about me and my family and, at the time, they completely believed him and kept where the ex and the boy were a secret from me. That was three days of sheer fucking hell. Both families have since realized all the lies that were told by the ex and really don't know if anything he ever said could be believed, but the bad blood between the two families is still there. To be fair to both families, they've always made an effort to not let the boy see the ill feelings, but he can sense tension better than cats can see in the dark.
I'm starting to hole myself up again. I have no idea why. I'm still having problems sleeping, though TylenolPM has helped me with that, as well as taking an edge off some of the pain I'm in. I take 4 every night just so I can sleep. I've told 2 doctors that now, and yet neither one will give me anything for pain. Heh. The new doctor, the OB-GYN, is more than likely going to recommend I have more surgery. He seems to think that the problems I'm having aren't PCOS after all. I think he's leaning towards endometriosis, due to the family history of that, but I've never shown any scar tissue or anything to really suggest it, other than the pain and the cracked out girlie times. Nothing has shown up on the ultrasounds, which I guess my last one looked completely normal, and there was nothing to indicate that in the laprascopy I had. He had me sign a records release so he could get the report from that surgery and that's cool. Maybe there was something on it that the other doctor just missed or something. Most likely, though, I'll be having another laprascopy done. Hooray exploratory surgery.
I'm trying to plan a trip to New York for October. I've told Greg about it and he remembers that when we first met, I was planning this same trip, so he knows who I'll be staying with and all that. He seems pretty disinterested. I'm really hoping I can go this time. I've been trying for damned near two years. I should have all my time in by then to be able to use my PTO time, so that'll work out nicely. I earn more PTO every hour I work, so it won't be that hard to build back up.
I've come to the conclusion that Greg doesn't know me. And that he doesn't really care to. I try to tell him things and I feel like I'm bothering him. When I tell him things like how I feel like I need to go out somewhere and sing or how I much I miss doing theater, he just kind of shrugs or stared blankly at something. He never tells me I should try and do it again. He never tells me that he'll take me out so I can do some random karaoke, which, ok, it's karaoke, but I'd still be singing and that's as close as I can get right now. He never goes out with me to see bands. He tells me the music I like is "gay" or some other random term he decides to throw out. When I'm watching something on TV, he gets a hair up his ass about "needing to listen to a song". Ok, go ahead. He then will play whatever song it is over what I'm trying to watch, which just happens to bug the living shit outta me. When I turn of the TV, he always asks me why, like every other time I've told him that it bothers me never happened. Then he gets pouty and will either plug in the headphones or go out to his car to listen. When he goes out to his car, I always have to go out there and ask him to turn it down some cuzz I can hear it inside. He tells me he loves certain foods and when I make them, he refuses to eat or he'll make something else. He tries to get after me, saying that I should be fine eating just once a day, never bothering to remember that when I don't eat at least three times in a day, I tend to pass out. You'd think that after he witnessed me passing out after darts one night and hitting my head hard enough on the floor to draw the attention of people a pretty good distance away, that he'd remember. He tells me that I must not have anything worth while to do since I spend a lot of time on the computer. He never seems to remember that I work 12 hour shifts, constantly in front of the computer, which is when I do a good majority of anything computer related. He likes to tell me that if I would just exercise all the time and drink a gallon of water a day, I'd lose weight. He never bothers to think about all the research he did into PCOS and how weight loss can be almost impossible. When I tell him I'm going to the doctor to see what can be done to help me either handle my symptoms better or get rid of them completely, he tells me I shouldn't see an MD, but a doctor who specializes in natural remedies. He likes to tell me that MDs are full of shit and they'd rather prescribe pills than find out what's really wrong. He never bothers to remember when I tell him I have no prescriptions to fill. He likes to forward me things telling me that something I know is right is, in fact, wrong according to whichever site has decided to put up something that differs from fact. He likes to tell me how the church says this, that and the other thing and if people don't believe that then they're going to Hell. I'm going to Hell.
I've pointed out so many things that are negative. It probably seems that everything is just one big downer with Greg and I. Truth is, not everything is bad. He makes me laugh. He loves my hair. He tells me that he feels like he was made just for me when we have sex. He loves my cats. My son adores him. There are a lot of really good things. And, though it may not seem like it, he treats me better than anyone ever has. But, I'm still lonely. I'm still upset. I still feel like crying at the drop of a hat. I find myself analyzing just how much would be different if he weren't there and rationalizing that it would be easier if he weren't there.
I still feel empty.
And I can't figure out why.
So, budgeting is a bit better, I suppose. Still scraping, but I'm not as stressed out about it as I was. Rent has been paid, other things will be paid. I'll be putting off getting a couple of things I need, but I'll survive. I have one pair of pants I can wear and I can carry my purse with only one strap, even though I feel incredibly ghetto doing that, but I can put it off until next check. The boy turns 6 soon. I need to figure out what the hell I'm gonna get him for that. We're taking him to a Tiger's game on Sept 5th, which is about a week after his actual birthday, but he has no idea. Greg wanted to get tickets ON his birthday, but I have to work the next morning. I can't see keeping him out till around midnight, just to wake him up at 530AM so I can take him to his grandmother's so I can work. At least this way, it'll still be for his birthday and we can all sleep in the next day. His great grandmother is paying for him to have a birthday party at Chuck E Cheese's. My mom paid for one when he turned 4 and he absolutely loved it and started talking about it around her, so she figured that since he was talking so adamantly about it, why not? And that's cool, she knows there is just no way I could swing that. They want to do it ON his birthday, though. Really, it's not anything horrible, I just feel a little shorted, I guess. I made arrangements to have his birthday off and I was wanting to take him to this restaurant that he likes and invite family and whatever. I mean, I wouldn't be paying for everyone, but I thought it would be nice to have all his grandparents and which ever aunts and uncles could/would come out. Now, if I still want to do that, I need to figure out a different day. I'm not gonna say anything to her about it cuzz I know it means a lot for her to be able to that for him and who knows how long she's gonna be around? Not that I'm trying to put her into her grave before she's ready to go, but you just don't know when that might happen. It'll make everyone else happy, so why not? Maybe I can get everyone together the day before? Things have always been kind of a hassle when planning the boy's birthday festivities. My family and my ex-husband's family haven't really meshed together well since he took off with the boy when he was 4 months old. The ex told his family a bunch of lies about me and my family and, at the time, they completely believed him and kept where the ex and the boy were a secret from me. That was three days of sheer fucking hell. Both families have since realized all the lies that were told by the ex and really don't know if anything he ever said could be believed, but the bad blood between the two families is still there. To be fair to both families, they've always made an effort to not let the boy see the ill feelings, but he can sense tension better than cats can see in the dark.
I'm starting to hole myself up again. I have no idea why. I'm still having problems sleeping, though TylenolPM has helped me with that, as well as taking an edge off some of the pain I'm in. I take 4 every night just so I can sleep. I've told 2 doctors that now, and yet neither one will give me anything for pain. Heh. The new doctor, the OB-GYN, is more than likely going to recommend I have more surgery. He seems to think that the problems I'm having aren't PCOS after all. I think he's leaning towards endometriosis, due to the family history of that, but I've never shown any scar tissue or anything to really suggest it, other than the pain and the cracked out girlie times. Nothing has shown up on the ultrasounds, which I guess my last one looked completely normal, and there was nothing to indicate that in the laprascopy I had. He had me sign a records release so he could get the report from that surgery and that's cool. Maybe there was something on it that the other doctor just missed or something. Most likely, though, I'll be having another laprascopy done. Hooray exploratory surgery.
I'm trying to plan a trip to New York for October. I've told Greg about it and he remembers that when we first met, I was planning this same trip, so he knows who I'll be staying with and all that. He seems pretty disinterested. I'm really hoping I can go this time. I've been trying for damned near two years. I should have all my time in by then to be able to use my PTO time, so that'll work out nicely. I earn more PTO every hour I work, so it won't be that hard to build back up.
I've come to the conclusion that Greg doesn't know me. And that he doesn't really care to. I try to tell him things and I feel like I'm bothering him. When I tell him things like how I feel like I need to go out somewhere and sing or how I much I miss doing theater, he just kind of shrugs or stared blankly at something. He never tells me I should try and do it again. He never tells me that he'll take me out so I can do some random karaoke, which, ok, it's karaoke, but I'd still be singing and that's as close as I can get right now. He never goes out with me to see bands. He tells me the music I like is "gay" or some other random term he decides to throw out. When I'm watching something on TV, he gets a hair up his ass about "needing to listen to a song". Ok, go ahead. He then will play whatever song it is over what I'm trying to watch, which just happens to bug the living shit outta me. When I turn of the TV, he always asks me why, like every other time I've told him that it bothers me never happened. Then he gets pouty and will either plug in the headphones or go out to his car to listen. When he goes out to his car, I always have to go out there and ask him to turn it down some cuzz I can hear it inside. He tells me he loves certain foods and when I make them, he refuses to eat or he'll make something else. He tries to get after me, saying that I should be fine eating just once a day, never bothering to remember that when I don't eat at least three times in a day, I tend to pass out. You'd think that after he witnessed me passing out after darts one night and hitting my head hard enough on the floor to draw the attention of people a pretty good distance away, that he'd remember. He tells me that I must not have anything worth while to do since I spend a lot of time on the computer. He never seems to remember that I work 12 hour shifts, constantly in front of the computer, which is when I do a good majority of anything computer related. He likes to tell me that if I would just exercise all the time and drink a gallon of water a day, I'd lose weight. He never bothers to think about all the research he did into PCOS and how weight loss can be almost impossible. When I tell him I'm going to the doctor to see what can be done to help me either handle my symptoms better or get rid of them completely, he tells me I shouldn't see an MD, but a doctor who specializes in natural remedies. He likes to tell me that MDs are full of shit and they'd rather prescribe pills than find out what's really wrong. He never bothers to remember when I tell him I have no prescriptions to fill. He likes to forward me things telling me that something I know is right is, in fact, wrong according to whichever site has decided to put up something that differs from fact. He likes to tell me how the church says this, that and the other thing and if people don't believe that then they're going to Hell. I'm going to Hell.
I've pointed out so many things that are negative. It probably seems that everything is just one big downer with Greg and I. Truth is, not everything is bad. He makes me laugh. He loves my hair. He tells me that he feels like he was made just for me when we have sex. He loves my cats. My son adores him. There are a lot of really good things. And, though it may not seem like it, he treats me better than anyone ever has. But, I'm still lonely. I'm still upset. I still feel like crying at the drop of a hat. I find myself analyzing just how much would be different if he weren't there and rationalizing that it would be easier if he weren't there.
I still feel empty.
And I can't figure out why.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Blarg.
Yeah, that's pretty much it.
Blarg.
Ok, so there's more than blarg. Really, I put that out there to kind of deflect the fact that I am incredibly pissed off. I'm listening to Quick Kill Formula to help ease some of the anger, but I don't think it's helping today. I'm not sure if it's just due to me being very moody right now or what. I'm pissed off at myself. I'm pissed of at Matt. I'm pissed off at Greg. Mostly, I'm pissed off at myself, though.
I am flat broke. I have zero in my bank account. I have just about $1 on my child support card.
I don't get paid until Thursday.
I need groceries. I need laundry crap. I need gas.
I have no way to obtain any of those things I need.
I'm pissed off at myself for letting myself get into this situation yet again. I'm pissed off at myself for feeling like I need to bail Greg out when he fucks up and doesn't have enough money to get gas to go to and from work. When he spends his gas money on pizza and fucking beer. I'm pissed off at myself for failing to see that I was falling into the same cycle I was in with my ex-husband, mainly due to the fact that Greg loves to work, whereas the ex did everything he could NOT to work. I am pissed off at myself for getting behind on the electric bill this winter and not being able to get it back into good standing, some 6 or 7 months later. I'm pissed off at myself for not being able to survive on my own if Greg were to go. I'm pissed off at myself for being 26 fucking years old and still needing to ask for help.
I shouldn't need to ask for fucking help anymore.
I'm pissed off at Greg for being an idiot with his money. For not realizing that everytime he bails on bills, he's making me slowly develop an angry kind of loathing towards him, even though I tell him that I can't handle that kind of shit. I'm pissed off at Greg for ignoring me when I tell him I need him to be able to pay the fucking rent. I'm pissed off at Greg for not having the rent money for the third fucking month in a row. I'm pissed off at Greg for tuning me out when I tell him I need him to get his fucking head on straight. For tuning me out when I tell him he needs to either curb his fucking drinking or just quit all together. I'm pissed off at Greg for always telling me about how he reads that beer has minerals and vitamins, so it's good for him, like I'm a fucking idiot. I'm pissed off at Greg for obviously deciding that the fact that I've told him repeatedly that I will NOT allow my son to be raised by an alcoholic step-father, as I was, is not something he needs to be bothered with. I'm pissed off at Greg for acting oblivious when I get upset, like I've never told him any of the issues I have with the way he spends money, the way he drinks, etc. I'm pissed off at Greg for making me feel like an asshole for falling in love with someone who puts so little into everything, while at the same time expecting me to put everything into our survival.
I'm pissed off at Greg for being Greg.
I'm pissed off at Matt for being a fucking worthless father. For being so spiteful that I will now have to fight him in court to obtain full custody of my son, who he brushes off every chance he gets. I'm pissed off at Matt for lying to me time and time again. For offering to help me pay off the lawsuit his grandparents brought against me and allowing me to think that maybe, just maybe, he had finally pulled his head out his ass long enough to see what a fucking hole he put me in while we were married. I'm pissed off at Matt for telling me he realized what an asshole he was while we were married and that he wanted to make things right as much as he could (financially) and then taking it all back once his ex-fiance took him back for the umpteenth time. I'm pissed off at Matt for making my son sleep on the floor, while Dannette's kids each have beds. For making him sleep on the floor cuzz they always have someone else over sleeping on the couch. I'm pissed off at Matt for not letting my son take a bath when he's there. I'm pissed off at Matt for asking his parents and/or grandparents to keep my son every weekend, with out fail. I'm pissed off at Matt for using my son to get back at his parents for all the shit he went through as a child. I'm pissed off at Matt for making my son ask me why he can't see daddy. I'm pissed off at Matt for allowing pussy to control his life. I'm pissed off at Matt for being so fucking co-dependent that he makes my son cry. I'm pissed off at Matt for not just allowing me to have full custody.
I'm jealous of Matt for getting a house. I'm pissed off at Matt for giving her everything he had always promised to give to me.
I'm glad that Greg's working the night shift tonight. This will give me some time to myself. Maybe I'll write or something. Most likely, I'll sit there wishing I had the money to get a fucking fifth and a carton of cigarettes. I want to just drink everything away, for just one night. I want to escape everything, for just one night. I want to pretend that I've made it and I don't need to ask my family to help me support everyone.
Really, I just wish I could escape it all.
Just for a little bit.
I'm so fucking sick of all of this...
Yeah, that's pretty much it.
Blarg.
Ok, so there's more than blarg. Really, I put that out there to kind of deflect the fact that I am incredibly pissed off. I'm listening to Quick Kill Formula to help ease some of the anger, but I don't think it's helping today. I'm not sure if it's just due to me being very moody right now or what. I'm pissed off at myself. I'm pissed of at Matt. I'm pissed off at Greg. Mostly, I'm pissed off at myself, though.
I am flat broke. I have zero in my bank account. I have just about $1 on my child support card.
I don't get paid until Thursday.
I need groceries. I need laundry crap. I need gas.
I have no way to obtain any of those things I need.
I'm pissed off at myself for letting myself get into this situation yet again. I'm pissed off at myself for feeling like I need to bail Greg out when he fucks up and doesn't have enough money to get gas to go to and from work. When he spends his gas money on pizza and fucking beer. I'm pissed off at myself for failing to see that I was falling into the same cycle I was in with my ex-husband, mainly due to the fact that Greg loves to work, whereas the ex did everything he could NOT to work. I am pissed off at myself for getting behind on the electric bill this winter and not being able to get it back into good standing, some 6 or 7 months later. I'm pissed off at myself for not being able to survive on my own if Greg were to go. I'm pissed off at myself for being 26 fucking years old and still needing to ask for help.
I shouldn't need to ask for fucking help anymore.
I'm pissed off at Greg for being an idiot with his money. For not realizing that everytime he bails on bills, he's making me slowly develop an angry kind of loathing towards him, even though I tell him that I can't handle that kind of shit. I'm pissed off at Greg for ignoring me when I tell him I need him to be able to pay the fucking rent. I'm pissed off at Greg for not having the rent money for the third fucking month in a row. I'm pissed off at Greg for tuning me out when I tell him I need him to get his fucking head on straight. For tuning me out when I tell him he needs to either curb his fucking drinking or just quit all together. I'm pissed off at Greg for always telling me about how he reads that beer has minerals and vitamins, so it's good for him, like I'm a fucking idiot. I'm pissed off at Greg for obviously deciding that the fact that I've told him repeatedly that I will NOT allow my son to be raised by an alcoholic step-father, as I was, is not something he needs to be bothered with. I'm pissed off at Greg for acting oblivious when I get upset, like I've never told him any of the issues I have with the way he spends money, the way he drinks, etc. I'm pissed off at Greg for making me feel like an asshole for falling in love with someone who puts so little into everything, while at the same time expecting me to put everything into our survival.
I'm pissed off at Greg for being Greg.
I'm pissed off at Matt for being a fucking worthless father. For being so spiteful that I will now have to fight him in court to obtain full custody of my son, who he brushes off every chance he gets. I'm pissed off at Matt for lying to me time and time again. For offering to help me pay off the lawsuit his grandparents brought against me and allowing me to think that maybe, just maybe, he had finally pulled his head out his ass long enough to see what a fucking hole he put me in while we were married. I'm pissed off at Matt for telling me he realized what an asshole he was while we were married and that he wanted to make things right as much as he could (financially) and then taking it all back once his ex-fiance took him back for the umpteenth time. I'm pissed off at Matt for making my son sleep on the floor, while Dannette's kids each have beds. For making him sleep on the floor cuzz they always have someone else over sleeping on the couch. I'm pissed off at Matt for not letting my son take a bath when he's there. I'm pissed off at Matt for asking his parents and/or grandparents to keep my son every weekend, with out fail. I'm pissed off at Matt for using my son to get back at his parents for all the shit he went through as a child. I'm pissed off at Matt for making my son ask me why he can't see daddy. I'm pissed off at Matt for allowing pussy to control his life. I'm pissed off at Matt for being so fucking co-dependent that he makes my son cry. I'm pissed off at Matt for not just allowing me to have full custody.
I'm jealous of Matt for getting a house. I'm pissed off at Matt for giving her everything he had always promised to give to me.
I'm glad that Greg's working the night shift tonight. This will give me some time to myself. Maybe I'll write or something. Most likely, I'll sit there wishing I had the money to get a fucking fifth and a carton of cigarettes. I want to just drink everything away, for just one night. I want to escape everything, for just one night. I want to pretend that I've made it and I don't need to ask my family to help me support everyone.
Really, I just wish I could escape it all.
Just for a little bit.
I'm so fucking sick of all of this...
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Ugh. Time is being sssssssssllllllooooooooowwwwwwwwww again. At least I only have two hours left to go. I think I'm pretty safe in my assumption that the time being slow thing is due to this being the last day of my work week. I'm totally looking forward to 3 days off. I'm kind of dreading it a little, though. See, the boy, he ADORES going outside. The temp is not supposed to be any kind of comfortable. Since the boy and I both have asthma, that's not a very good thing. Factor in high humidity and you've got asthma attacks just waiting to happen. Which, in turn, means I will have an abundance of whining directed at me, which I loathe. I'm thinking that I might be able to take him walking along the trails at the hospital again, though, which he loved doing the other day. This will give me a chance to get his Albuterol filled so he can take some on his trip up north with his grandparents this weekend. Maybe the catfish will be out again.
I've been exercising for the last week or so. The boy brought that on after the walk along the nature trails. I bought a Gazelle from a friend a while back and the boy loves it. One of his favorite things to do is pester me about using it. If he were a little taller and possibly a little less of the ADD mentality, I'd let him use it more. As it is right now, though, he's either 4ft or just over and that just freaks me out when he gets on it. But, I was feeling like being a nice mommy that night, so after we went on our walk, which included a brief pit stop for tree watering, we went to Kroger and got some stuff to make sandwiches for dinner and then we ventured back to the homestead. After dinner, we watched a couple cartoons and then it was time to exercise! He was so excited. I think it was a little too excited, but since he's 5 everything he gets excited about is, in his words, "the ultimate". Yeah. He told me that when we exercised, it was going to be "the ultimate". *snicker* Anyway, so we did that and then he went to bed and I figured I may as well keep doing it. I haven't used the Gazelle since that night, but, in my defense, I have issues exercising at home in front of anyone but Alex. Since Greg has been home when I get home from work, I've just exercised in morning before work, which doesn't leave me time to haul the Gazelle out from under the couch and use it. He works the night shift this week, so I think Alex and I will be exercising again, which, of course, means mommy gets to drag out the Gazelle. At least I can make sure he's not using it as a jungle gym or something.
I've decided that I am going to map out ideas for a book. I've toyed with writing something like that since I was 11 and had written my first poem, but I never really did anything. I wrote some really stupid short stories and a play or two when I was around 12 or 13, but that's about it. Man, I came across the folder I have with those stories in it a few weeks back. WOW. They were just... Stupid, for lack of a better term. If I remember right, every single one of them involved the main character getting into some type of major car accident. And everyone was named things like Swan and Heaven. I thought I was being SO creative by naming the characters things like that. HA! I've read some happy little romance novels with names like those in them and they struck me as completely cheesy. I had forgotten that I, too, had dipped into the same cheese. I think I might try and stay away from that this time. ^_^ I'm thinking of writing a thriller. Kind of along the lines of Patricia Cornwell. I won't copy her style or anything, but that kind of format is what I'd like to go with. Some kind of crime and how it gets solved and danger! I really like Patricia Cornwell.
Welp, it's stopped raining outside, so I think I'm gonna go blacken up my lungs. I know, I know, I just went on a semi-rant about asthma. But I like smoking dammit!
I've been exercising for the last week or so. The boy brought that on after the walk along the nature trails. I bought a Gazelle from a friend a while back and the boy loves it. One of his favorite things to do is pester me about using it. If he were a little taller and possibly a little less of the ADD mentality, I'd let him use it more. As it is right now, though, he's either 4ft or just over and that just freaks me out when he gets on it. But, I was feeling like being a nice mommy that night, so after we went on our walk, which included a brief pit stop for tree watering, we went to Kroger and got some stuff to make sandwiches for dinner and then we ventured back to the homestead. After dinner, we watched a couple cartoons and then it was time to exercise! He was so excited. I think it was a little too excited, but since he's 5 everything he gets excited about is, in his words, "the ultimate". Yeah. He told me that when we exercised, it was going to be "the ultimate". *snicker* Anyway, so we did that and then he went to bed and I figured I may as well keep doing it. I haven't used the Gazelle since that night, but, in my defense, I have issues exercising at home in front of anyone but Alex. Since Greg has been home when I get home from work, I've just exercised in morning before work, which doesn't leave me time to haul the Gazelle out from under the couch and use it. He works the night shift this week, so I think Alex and I will be exercising again, which, of course, means mommy gets to drag out the Gazelle. At least I can make sure he's not using it as a jungle gym or something.
I've decided that I am going to map out ideas for a book. I've toyed with writing something like that since I was 11 and had written my first poem, but I never really did anything. I wrote some really stupid short stories and a play or two when I was around 12 or 13, but that's about it. Man, I came across the folder I have with those stories in it a few weeks back. WOW. They were just... Stupid, for lack of a better term. If I remember right, every single one of them involved the main character getting into some type of major car accident. And everyone was named things like Swan and Heaven. I thought I was being SO creative by naming the characters things like that. HA! I've read some happy little romance novels with names like those in them and they struck me as completely cheesy. I had forgotten that I, too, had dipped into the same cheese. I think I might try and stay away from that this time. ^_^ I'm thinking of writing a thriller. Kind of along the lines of Patricia Cornwell. I won't copy her style or anything, but that kind of format is what I'd like to go with. Some kind of crime and how it gets solved and danger! I really like Patricia Cornwell.
Welp, it's stopped raining outside, so I think I'm gonna go blacken up my lungs. I know, I know, I just went on a semi-rant about asthma. But I like smoking dammit!
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Ugh. This day is moving very slowly. I've been up since 5AM, which isn't really anything new, but it feels like it should be later than 1115.
Went in for the ultrasound. That was fun. (Can you FEEL the sarcasm?) Seems it wasn't enough to have just the run of the mill ultrasound. Oh no, no, no! I got have a very special vaginal ultrasound as well. I hate those. There's just something a little unsettling about having a stranger routing around in there with what looks to be a rather large toy. At least it didn't hurt this time.
I keep forgetting to get the blood draw. I was going to do it on Thursday, but I had to work. I picked part of the shift, so I could've had it done before I went in at 11. Provided, of course, that I would've woken up at the time I was supposed to. The alarm was clearly set for 730. I have a fuzzy memory of the alarm going off, hitting the clock, hearing the radio and then nothing. I woke up at 11. I was an hour and a half late to work. Neat. I'm blaming the Metformin. Or Glucophage, whichever. I really don't think it matters much since one is the generic of the other.
I've decided to be ambitious about losing weight and have started a morning exercise routine. Not sure how long it'll last, but I'm hoping I won't lose my motivation. I'm trying to see about going to New York in October and I'd like to not be puffy. Meh. I suppose it doesn't really matter if I'm puffy or not. I'll have to remember to tell myself that if I realize I've lost motivation.
In other news, Greg made me watch Helraiser: Hellbound last night. I have a total love/hate relationship with horror movies. I love to watch them, but I am such a fucking girl afterwards! I was spooked walking to the bathroom last night and I kept dreaming of Pinhead. Then, this morning, I spooked myself while I was in the shower. I forgot that the little cat, Baby, followed me into the bathroom when I went in to take my shower. I was washing my face when she decided it would be a good idea to charge the shower door. I couldn't see her cuzz I was washing my face and I freaked out, thinking there was something coming in to get me. I screeched a little and everything. It makes me feel a little better thinking that I scared her, too.
Hmm... This only took up about 15 minutes of my time. This is not encouraging about how quickly the rest of the day will go.
I want a vacation.
Went in for the ultrasound. That was fun. (Can you FEEL the sarcasm?) Seems it wasn't enough to have just the run of the mill ultrasound. Oh no, no, no! I got have a very special vaginal ultrasound as well. I hate those. There's just something a little unsettling about having a stranger routing around in there with what looks to be a rather large toy. At least it didn't hurt this time.
I keep forgetting to get the blood draw. I was going to do it on Thursday, but I had to work. I picked part of the shift, so I could've had it done before I went in at 11. Provided, of course, that I would've woken up at the time I was supposed to. The alarm was clearly set for 730. I have a fuzzy memory of the alarm going off, hitting the clock, hearing the radio and then nothing. I woke up at 11. I was an hour and a half late to work. Neat. I'm blaming the Metformin. Or Glucophage, whichever. I really don't think it matters much since one is the generic of the other.
I've decided to be ambitious about losing weight and have started a morning exercise routine. Not sure how long it'll last, but I'm hoping I won't lose my motivation. I'm trying to see about going to New York in October and I'd like to not be puffy. Meh. I suppose it doesn't really matter if I'm puffy or not. I'll have to remember to tell myself that if I realize I've lost motivation.
In other news, Greg made me watch Helraiser: Hellbound last night. I have a total love/hate relationship with horror movies. I love to watch them, but I am such a fucking girl afterwards! I was spooked walking to the bathroom last night and I kept dreaming of Pinhead. Then, this morning, I spooked myself while I was in the shower. I forgot that the little cat, Baby, followed me into the bathroom when I went in to take my shower. I was washing my face when she decided it would be a good idea to charge the shower door. I couldn't see her cuzz I was washing my face and I freaked out, thinking there was something coming in to get me. I screeched a little and everything. It makes me feel a little better thinking that I scared her, too.
Hmm... This only took up about 15 minutes of my time. This is not encouraging about how quickly the rest of the day will go.
I want a vacation.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
So, the testing shall begin again. Seems my doctor has decided that she wants to find out what's really causing my pain. *facepalm* Nothing has changed in the years since I was diagnosed with PCOS and while I understand the need to have tests done to rule out things, I don't see what that has to do with giving me something for the pain. When I asked, she told me that she doesn't want to medicate me until she knows the real reason for the pain. I don't get it. It's the same pain with the same symptoms. The only difference is that my periods have gone from every 1-2 weeks to sporadic, which is normal with PCOS. (At least from what I've read anyway) So, Wednesday, I get to have another ultrasound. I loathe ultrasounds simply for the whole not being able to pee aspect. That drives me insane.
I'm supposed to have a fasting blood draw done sometime next week as well. My mom was telling me that I should get there at 645 so I can be the first in line after not eating or drinking anything after like 6 or 7 the night before. (12 hour fast) I looked at her like she was loopy and said that I didn't want to have to get up that early if I wasn't going to work. She and the doctor laughed at me cuzz apparently, my like of making the sleep is humorous and can be attributed to my age. In reality, I'm dreading going cuzz people can never seem to find my veins when they try and steal my blood like the vampires they are. The last time I tried to donate blood, they couldn't find a vein for about 20 minutes and when they finally were able to get the needle in my arm and get to it, they ended up telling me they couldn't use my blood and threw it out cuzz I didn't put out an entire pint. Seems like a waste to me, but what do I know? At any rate, I'm thinking I'll do that Thursday cuzz I think the boy will be with his gramma. I have to ask her if she can watch him Wednesday while I have my ultrasound cuzz Greg will be at work and she usually will just keep him if I have her grab him up on Wednesday. We'll see, though. If not, then I'll see if my mom can watch him while I go. I'm not sure if she's up to it yet or not, but it can't hurt to ask.
I also get to see a new OB-GYN. It's the one my mom goes to and he's supposed to be very good. My mom raves about him and likes to tell me he's never had a lawsuit for malpractice or anything. That's great and all, but I'm still nervous. Honestly, I think it has more to do with the fact that he's a man than anything else. I've always had female OB-GYNs. I'm more comfortable with a woman poking around down there. Hopefully this guy doesn't give me that creepy-old-man vibe. That appt isn't until Aug. 9th, though, so I have a little bit to calm my anxieties.
Welp, I guess I should go about performing teh job duties. It's been a nice, slow day so far, but now that I've said that, I'm sure it's going to get busybusybusy!
And I'm off!
I'm supposed to have a fasting blood draw done sometime next week as well. My mom was telling me that I should get there at 645 so I can be the first in line after not eating or drinking anything after like 6 or 7 the night before. (12 hour fast) I looked at her like she was loopy and said that I didn't want to have to get up that early if I wasn't going to work. She and the doctor laughed at me cuzz apparently, my like of making the sleep is humorous and can be attributed to my age. In reality, I'm dreading going cuzz people can never seem to find my veins when they try and steal my blood like the vampires they are. The last time I tried to donate blood, they couldn't find a vein for about 20 minutes and when they finally were able to get the needle in my arm and get to it, they ended up telling me they couldn't use my blood and threw it out cuzz I didn't put out an entire pint. Seems like a waste to me, but what do I know? At any rate, I'm thinking I'll do that Thursday cuzz I think the boy will be with his gramma. I have to ask her if she can watch him Wednesday while I have my ultrasound cuzz Greg will be at work and she usually will just keep him if I have her grab him up on Wednesday. We'll see, though. If not, then I'll see if my mom can watch him while I go. I'm not sure if she's up to it yet or not, but it can't hurt to ask.
I also get to see a new OB-GYN. It's the one my mom goes to and he's supposed to be very good. My mom raves about him and likes to tell me he's never had a lawsuit for malpractice or anything. That's great and all, but I'm still nervous. Honestly, I think it has more to do with the fact that he's a man than anything else. I've always had female OB-GYNs. I'm more comfortable with a woman poking around down there. Hopefully this guy doesn't give me that creepy-old-man vibe. That appt isn't until Aug. 9th, though, so I have a little bit to calm my anxieties.
Welp, I guess I should go about performing teh job duties. It's been a nice, slow day so far, but now that I've said that, I'm sure it's going to get busybusybusy!
And I'm off!
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Have you ever been so incredibly frustrated with someone it makes your head hurt simply to think about it? Well, if you haven't, be thankful cuzz it sucks.
Everything with my ex-husband is drama. I seriously think he thrives of it. If any of his family read this, I appoligize (sp), but I am so incredibly frustrated that it's unreal. Things were fine. Drama was gone and everything was running smoothly. Now, he's pulling all sorts of stunts that make me wanna just rip my fucking hair out.
Matt has apparently decided that he wants to cut his parents off from him as far as any kind of finances go. That's great! He's 26 years old and should've done that a long time ago. What's bugging me is that he seems to using Alex to do it. He's decided that he wants his finace's brother, who I've know for pretty much ever, to watch Alex. I'm not so sure I'm comfortable with that. It's not that I think Bryan's a bad guy or anything, I just think that 4 kids that are 7 and under are a lot for one person to handle and if Matt's mom is willing to watch Alex, FOR FREE, she should be allowed to do so. I certainly can't afford to pay Bryan anything for watching Alex and I know Alex can be a handful all on his own. It's only every other Thursday and every Friday cuzz that's when I work. When school starts, Bryan would have to take Alex to and from school, which is gonna drain his gas. Matt's mom has no problem taking Alex to and from school. Why change it? He's also been pawning his time with Alex off on other people. He's been asking his grandparents to keep Alex every Friday for the last month or so. He only gets Alex Fridays, when he gets out of work, until Sundays, when I get out of work. When I have him, Alex is always saying that he doesn't get to spend any time with Matt. This Sunday was kind of like the straw that broke the camel's back.
One of his fiance's sons had to go to the hospital. Matt called me ealier in the morning to see about taking him to the ER where I work and I told him about it and blahblahblah. At that point, everything was fine. Around 3PM, I got a call from Bryan's girlfriend. She told me that the little boy was being admitted to the hospital and that Alex and the other kids would be at Bryan's and they needed me to pick Alex up out there. I told her that wasn't a problem. Then about 2 hours later, I get a call from Matt. He was calling to appoligize (sp) to me for having to pick Alex up in Lennon. Well, I kinda pissed Matt off at that point. I asked him why he couldn't have waited to go up to the hospital until I had picked Alex up. After all, Alex keeps saying he wants to spend time with his daddy and Matt knows that, which I also pointed out. He retorted with, "But, Leslee, this was an emergency." Since I know what was going on, I turned the fact that it wasn't a life threatening emergency on him. He got pissed off and told me he didn't call to debate with me. I told him I wasn't trying to debate, merely point out that, yet again, he's choosing the other kids over his own son. He trieed to say something else to me, but I couldn't hear him cuzz the base got loud, so we hung up. I called his mom and asked her to get Alex. In the course of the conversation with Matt, he had told me that Bryan didn't want to watch the kids cuzz he had things to do and that his sister had pretty much bitched him out until he gave in. I figure since Alex is in no way his responsibility, that if Matt's mom could pick him up, it'd be easier for Bryan. She went and got him and everything was fine. Until I went to pick Alex up, at least. Seems Matt and Dannette (his fiance) had put Alex's sandels on the little one who was in the hospital, so Alex had no shoes. Matt's mom was told by another one of the kids that there were "girl sandels" for Alex to wear. Heh. Needless to say, she wasn't too pleased, especially since there has been an on going battle between them about putting Alex's clothes on the other kids. Anyway, she asked Bryan's girlfriend for Alex's nebulizer. She didn't have it. So, Matt's mom took Alex back her place and told me all about that. It's Tuesday and I still don't have his nebulizer. I'm doubting that Matt will take it over to his mom's tomorrow like he just told me he was going to. Way to make sure your son can have his breathing treatments, Matt. Alex says that Matt's been sending him down to the basement playroom to play so he can smoke upstairs, too. That's a HIUGE no-no considering Alex is severely alergic to cigarette smoke. But that's another on going battle, too.
Needless to say, I'm in a not so happy mood at the moment. After I get out of the doctor's tomorrow I think I'm gonna call Friend of the Court and see what my options are. I'm fucking tired of this bullshit.
Everything with my ex-husband is drama. I seriously think he thrives of it. If any of his family read this, I appoligize (sp), but I am so incredibly frustrated that it's unreal. Things were fine. Drama was gone and everything was running smoothly. Now, he's pulling all sorts of stunts that make me wanna just rip my fucking hair out.
Matt has apparently decided that he wants to cut his parents off from him as far as any kind of finances go. That's great! He's 26 years old and should've done that a long time ago. What's bugging me is that he seems to using Alex to do it. He's decided that he wants his finace's brother, who I've know for pretty much ever, to watch Alex. I'm not so sure I'm comfortable with that. It's not that I think Bryan's a bad guy or anything, I just think that 4 kids that are 7 and under are a lot for one person to handle and if Matt's mom is willing to watch Alex, FOR FREE, she should be allowed to do so. I certainly can't afford to pay Bryan anything for watching Alex and I know Alex can be a handful all on his own. It's only every other Thursday and every Friday cuzz that's when I work. When school starts, Bryan would have to take Alex to and from school, which is gonna drain his gas. Matt's mom has no problem taking Alex to and from school. Why change it? He's also been pawning his time with Alex off on other people. He's been asking his grandparents to keep Alex every Friday for the last month or so. He only gets Alex Fridays, when he gets out of work, until Sundays, when I get out of work. When I have him, Alex is always saying that he doesn't get to spend any time with Matt. This Sunday was kind of like the straw that broke the camel's back.
One of his fiance's sons had to go to the hospital. Matt called me ealier in the morning to see about taking him to the ER where I work and I told him about it and blahblahblah. At that point, everything was fine. Around 3PM, I got a call from Bryan's girlfriend. She told me that the little boy was being admitted to the hospital and that Alex and the other kids would be at Bryan's and they needed me to pick Alex up out there. I told her that wasn't a problem. Then about 2 hours later, I get a call from Matt. He was calling to appoligize (sp) to me for having to pick Alex up in Lennon. Well, I kinda pissed Matt off at that point. I asked him why he couldn't have waited to go up to the hospital until I had picked Alex up. After all, Alex keeps saying he wants to spend time with his daddy and Matt knows that, which I also pointed out. He retorted with, "But, Leslee, this was an emergency." Since I know what was going on, I turned the fact that it wasn't a life threatening emergency on him. He got pissed off and told me he didn't call to debate with me. I told him I wasn't trying to debate, merely point out that, yet again, he's choosing the other kids over his own son. He trieed to say something else to me, but I couldn't hear him cuzz the base got loud, so we hung up. I called his mom and asked her to get Alex. In the course of the conversation with Matt, he had told me that Bryan didn't want to watch the kids cuzz he had things to do and that his sister had pretty much bitched him out until he gave in. I figure since Alex is in no way his responsibility, that if Matt's mom could pick him up, it'd be easier for Bryan. She went and got him and everything was fine. Until I went to pick Alex up, at least. Seems Matt and Dannette (his fiance) had put Alex's sandels on the little one who was in the hospital, so Alex had no shoes. Matt's mom was told by another one of the kids that there were "girl sandels" for Alex to wear. Heh. Needless to say, she wasn't too pleased, especially since there has been an on going battle between them about putting Alex's clothes on the other kids. Anyway, she asked Bryan's girlfriend for Alex's nebulizer. She didn't have it. So, Matt's mom took Alex back her place and told me all about that. It's Tuesday and I still don't have his nebulizer. I'm doubting that Matt will take it over to his mom's tomorrow like he just told me he was going to. Way to make sure your son can have his breathing treatments, Matt. Alex says that Matt's been sending him down to the basement playroom to play so he can smoke upstairs, too. That's a HIUGE no-no considering Alex is severely alergic to cigarette smoke. But that's another on going battle, too.
Needless to say, I'm in a not so happy mood at the moment. After I get out of the doctor's tomorrow I think I'm gonna call Friend of the Court and see what my options are. I'm fucking tired of this bullshit.
Monday, July 03, 2006
I'm having trouble sleeping again. The last few nights I've been taking Tylenol PM just to be able to drift off with out lying there wondering when it'll happen. I like making the sleep, but aparently, it doesn't like me to make it all the time.
I'm still worried about my mom, though, according to the doctors, I shouldn't be. Heh.
I think I've decided to see about getting a hysterectomy. I'm not completely sure, though. I'm just so tired of the bullshit that comes with PCOS. I'm tired of my hair falling out. I'm tired of gaining weight. I'm tired of looking in the mirror and seeing that there is a hint of a moustache. I'm so fucking tired of the pain. I'm never without pain, it's just not as intense as it can be most of the time. The pain I think is what bothers me the most. It's always there, constantly reminding me that there's something wrong with me. I honestly think that I'd be more able to deal with taking estrogen for the rest of my life than I am with dealing withthe pain. Thing is, Greg wants babies. I have my baby. My baby wants a sibling. So, my son and my boyfriend want babies and I don't know if I can even still have them, let alone know if I want more. I don't want to deprive either of them of the joy of a baby, but I just don't know if I can deal with this anymore. I'm on a message board for women with PCOS and they're dealing with it SO much better than I am. It makes me angry that I can't handle it as well. I can deal with many, many things. Just not this. I just want it gone.
I don't know if I'm happy anymore. There's no reason for me to not be, I just don't know if I am. I mentioned before that I started writing again. I haven't written in years. I need to be in a certain frame of mind to write and it seems I've found that frame of mind again. Here's the link to my poetry site if you're interested. If you read anything there, you'll see about the needing to be in a certain frame of mind. I dunno. I'm just not feeling like myself anymore.
I think I'm gonna go lie down and see if the gin is taking any effects as far as sleepiness goes. The boy will be up at the asscrack of early, so I need ot at least try to sleep. Wish me luck.
I'm still worried about my mom, though, according to the doctors, I shouldn't be. Heh.
I think I've decided to see about getting a hysterectomy. I'm not completely sure, though. I'm just so tired of the bullshit that comes with PCOS. I'm tired of my hair falling out. I'm tired of gaining weight. I'm tired of looking in the mirror and seeing that there is a hint of a moustache. I'm so fucking tired of the pain. I'm never without pain, it's just not as intense as it can be most of the time. The pain I think is what bothers me the most. It's always there, constantly reminding me that there's something wrong with me. I honestly think that I'd be more able to deal with taking estrogen for the rest of my life than I am with dealing withthe pain. Thing is, Greg wants babies. I have my baby. My baby wants a sibling. So, my son and my boyfriend want babies and I don't know if I can even still have them, let alone know if I want more. I don't want to deprive either of them of the joy of a baby, but I just don't know if I can deal with this anymore. I'm on a message board for women with PCOS and they're dealing with it SO much better than I am. It makes me angry that I can't handle it as well. I can deal with many, many things. Just not this. I just want it gone.
I don't know if I'm happy anymore. There's no reason for me to not be, I just don't know if I am. I mentioned before that I started writing again. I haven't written in years. I need to be in a certain frame of mind to write and it seems I've found that frame of mind again. Here's the link to my poetry site if you're interested. If you read anything there, you'll see about the needing to be in a certain frame of mind. I dunno. I'm just not feeling like myself anymore.
I think I'm gonna go lie down and see if the gin is taking any effects as far as sleepiness goes. The boy will be up at the asscrack of early, so I need ot at least try to sleep. Wish me luck.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
And now for a real update...
So, my week was relatively uneventful. Played with the boy Monday and Tuesday, went and visited Ron on Wednesday. Normal crap was enjoyed.
Then Thursday came.
My mom was scheduled to have a hysterectomy Thursday. I didn't find out till later that they had found growths in her uterus that they think might be cancer. She was having other problems so she told them to just take it all out. My brother and I are 26 and 21 and she couldn't have any more kids anyway, so why not?
I'd had a bad feeling about it for a few days. I ignored it, though, thinking that this time I'd get myself all worked up and nothing bad would happen and I'd just look like that crazy lady down the street who collects cats. So, even though I was uneasy, I went about my life like there was nothing to be worried about. After all, a hysterectomy is a pretty routine surgery.
Thursday, I decided that I wanted some rum. I was in an artsy mood, didn't have to work, the kidling was with his grandparents and Greg was working till 10PM. Why not have some rum and Coke and write or play art? That idea sounded good at around 530PM, so I commenced with the rum drinking. I wrote my first poem in years and was thinking about getting my pastels out when my phone rang. It was my step-dad.
he gets this tone in his voice when he's worried or upset and doesn't want anyone to know cuzz, well, he's a guy and guys are big and strong. He told me that my mom had lost a lot of blood. Double the amount they were anticipating. She decided that it would be fun to stop breathing, too, so she was on a respirator. He was just leaving cuzz visiting hours were over. I got off the phone with him and sat there for a minute. Then I started crying and calling people. No one would answer their phone. Finally, I got a hold of my friend John. He said that he was gonna come over after he was finished at the restaurant he was at. I tried to play it off like it wasn't a big deal cuzz I didn't want to interrupt anyone's night, I just needed someone to talk to, but he insisted and I relented.
John got there just before Greg and I proceeded to drink more. Not how I should've gone about things, I know, but I can't change it. John succeeded in taking my mind off things and got me laughing. Greg sat at the computer. He didn't really say much. John left a little after midnight cuzz he had to work the next morning. I, fortunately, didn't. I had called dispatch just a little after I found out and asked about using PTO time and told them that my mom had come very close to dying. I must've sounded worse than I intended cuzz the dispatcher on that night called our boss and called me back to tell me that I didn't need to worry about coming in.
I went to visit her the next day around 5 or so. I wanted to go earlier, but I had a really hard time getting myself to get ready and to actually go. No one had called me to tell me that she had gotten any worse, but I didn't know if she had gotten any better, either. So, I finally got myself up there. She was sitting in bed watching TV. They had taken her off the respirator and she was talking and stuff. They had made her start getting up and walking herself over to the bathroom so she didn't have trouble doing so in the future and what not. I honestly thought that I was gonna see my mom hooked up to a bunch of machines. They didn't even have an IV in her arm. o_O I stayed up there for a few hours and went back home. They discharged her yesterday. We're both a little pissed off about that. I mean, she died on that table and they let her go 2 days later?! Unbelievable.
So, I almost lost my mother. In almost losing her, I lost control of my emotions. I'm scared to think how I'll react when the day comes that she actually does pass away...
Then Thursday came.
My mom was scheduled to have a hysterectomy Thursday. I didn't find out till later that they had found growths in her uterus that they think might be cancer. She was having other problems so she told them to just take it all out. My brother and I are 26 and 21 and she couldn't have any more kids anyway, so why not?
I'd had a bad feeling about it for a few days. I ignored it, though, thinking that this time I'd get myself all worked up and nothing bad would happen and I'd just look like that crazy lady down the street who collects cats. So, even though I was uneasy, I went about my life like there was nothing to be worried about. After all, a hysterectomy is a pretty routine surgery.
Thursday, I decided that I wanted some rum. I was in an artsy mood, didn't have to work, the kidling was with his grandparents and Greg was working till 10PM. Why not have some rum and Coke and write or play art? That idea sounded good at around 530PM, so I commenced with the rum drinking. I wrote my first poem in years and was thinking about getting my pastels out when my phone rang. It was my step-dad.
he gets this tone in his voice when he's worried or upset and doesn't want anyone to know cuzz, well, he's a guy and guys are big and strong. He told me that my mom had lost a lot of blood. Double the amount they were anticipating. She decided that it would be fun to stop breathing, too, so she was on a respirator. He was just leaving cuzz visiting hours were over. I got off the phone with him and sat there for a minute. Then I started crying and calling people. No one would answer their phone. Finally, I got a hold of my friend John. He said that he was gonna come over after he was finished at the restaurant he was at. I tried to play it off like it wasn't a big deal cuzz I didn't want to interrupt anyone's night, I just needed someone to talk to, but he insisted and I relented.
John got there just before Greg and I proceeded to drink more. Not how I should've gone about things, I know, but I can't change it. John succeeded in taking my mind off things and got me laughing. Greg sat at the computer. He didn't really say much. John left a little after midnight cuzz he had to work the next morning. I, fortunately, didn't. I had called dispatch just a little after I found out and asked about using PTO time and told them that my mom had come very close to dying. I must've sounded worse than I intended cuzz the dispatcher on that night called our boss and called me back to tell me that I didn't need to worry about coming in.
I went to visit her the next day around 5 or so. I wanted to go earlier, but I had a really hard time getting myself to get ready and to actually go. No one had called me to tell me that she had gotten any worse, but I didn't know if she had gotten any better, either. So, I finally got myself up there. She was sitting in bed watching TV. They had taken her off the respirator and she was talking and stuff. They had made her start getting up and walking herself over to the bathroom so she didn't have trouble doing so in the future and what not. I honestly thought that I was gonna see my mom hooked up to a bunch of machines. They didn't even have an IV in her arm. o_O I stayed up there for a few hours and went back home. They discharged her yesterday. We're both a little pissed off about that. I mean, she died on that table and they let her go 2 days later?! Unbelievable.
So, I almost lost my mother. In almost losing her, I lost control of my emotions. I'm scared to think how I'll react when the day comes that she actually does pass away...
The Bug
So, I was sitting here at work, minding my own business. I was engrossed in a game of Solitaire. I felt something hit my pant leg. I thought nothing of it, figured it was just the material falling a little after I had moved my leg or something. Stephanie, one of the medics on today, looks over at me.
The following is the conversation that ensued. Word for word.
Steph~ Oh my God, it's on your leg.
Me~ screams like a fucking banshee GETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFF!!!!
Steph brushes at my leg
Me~ Jumping around and running back and forth between the two desk chairs. IS IT GONE? DID YOU GET IT?
Steph~ No, it's still there. Begins to frantically brush at my leg
Me~ OMGISITSTILLTHERE?!?!?!! Screams some more. Dies
She got the bug and smashed it good. By this time, Todd and Re-Todd (Todd is a medic and Re-Todd is an EMT) have come into the room to what the fuck was going on. Come to find out, the bug was on Steph first. She felt it crawling on her hand and flicked it off. It landed on me. I now feel like there are possibly millions of bugs on me. And my pulse is still a little high. o_O
This is why I do not like going outside. That is probably the same reason that I am so buttass white.
Yes people, I showed my fuckin girly colors. I have shamed myself by being scared of bugs.
The End
The following is the conversation that ensued. Word for word.
Steph~ Oh my God, it's on your leg.
Me~ screams like a fucking banshee GETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFF!!!!
Steph brushes at my leg
Me~ Jumping around and running back and forth between the two desk chairs. IS IT GONE? DID YOU GET IT?
Steph~ No, it's still there. Begins to frantically brush at my leg
Me~ OMGISITSTILLTHERE?!?!?!! Screams some more. Dies
She got the bug and smashed it good. By this time, Todd and Re-Todd (Todd is a medic and Re-Todd is an EMT) have come into the room to what the fuck was going on. Come to find out, the bug was on Steph first. She felt it crawling on her hand and flicked it off. It landed on me. I now feel like there are possibly millions of bugs on me. And my pulse is still a little high. o_O
This is why I do not like going outside. That is probably the same reason that I am so buttass white.
Yes people, I showed my fuckin girly colors. I have shamed myself by being scared of bugs.
The End
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Pictures? *Caution: Missle fingers. On NOES!*
Sure, why not! let's see if I can figure out how to do this correctly...
So that is my friend Becky's brother Chris, Becky, my little brother, Jesse and me at the Mushroomhead concert last Friday at The Machine Shop. That was after the show. And the mosh pit. Notice my pretty red face.
Me, Chris and Jeffery Nothing, sans make-up, before the show.
Me and Becky. I like how she appears to be trying to take a shit. ^_^
Me and Jesse after the show. Notice the red face, yet again.
Waylon and Jeffery Nothing on stage. I have more pictures of them on stage, but they are GINORMOUS.
I had a good time at the show. I wished it was longer than what it was. I wished even more that I could've stayed in the pit longer. After I caught the elbow to the chest, though, that was it for me. Funny thing about mosh pits that I've noticed - Most of the time when I get in them, I'm the only girl. I get shoved and what not, but it's always kinda gentle, like they don't want to hurt the girl. Then, I get sick of that and shove someone HARD. It gets fun after that cuzz then all the guys feel like they have something to prove. Can't be pushed around by a GIRL! I have fun in the pit, especially when I'm being shoved around like one of the guys. I'm not stupid, I know people get hurt in there. I don't go in expecting to be treated like I'm some delicate flower. If I get hurt, I get out, that simple. I have some pretty gnarly bruises from that pit. Hehe.
That's pretty much all that's been going so far. I'm sure there will be some sort of happy-go-drama coming up. It's merely a maner of time. LOL
So that is my friend Becky's brother Chris, Becky, my little brother, Jesse and me at the Mushroomhead concert last Friday at The Machine Shop. That was after the show. And the mosh pit. Notice my pretty red face.
Me, Chris and Jeffery Nothing, sans make-up, before the show.
Me and Becky. I like how she appears to be trying to take a shit. ^_^
Me and Jesse after the show. Notice the red face, yet again.
Waylon and Jeffery Nothing on stage. I have more pictures of them on stage, but they are GINORMOUS.
I had a good time at the show. I wished it was longer than what it was. I wished even more that I could've stayed in the pit longer. After I caught the elbow to the chest, though, that was it for me. Funny thing about mosh pits that I've noticed - Most of the time when I get in them, I'm the only girl. I get shoved and what not, but it's always kinda gentle, like they don't want to hurt the girl. Then, I get sick of that and shove someone HARD. It gets fun after that cuzz then all the guys feel like they have something to prove. Can't be pushed around by a GIRL! I have fun in the pit, especially when I'm being shoved around like one of the guys. I'm not stupid, I know people get hurt in there. I don't go in expecting to be treated like I'm some delicate flower. If I get hurt, I get out, that simple. I have some pretty gnarly bruises from that pit. Hehe.
That's pretty much all that's been going so far. I'm sure there will be some sort of happy-go-drama coming up. It's merely a maner of time. LOL
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Holy shit! 3 times in a week?! Is she sick?
Hehe. Nope, I'm not sick. I'm merely losing my mind.
Between working a shit ton of hours, bailing the boyfriend out of financial issues and having my ex-husband call me for phone numbers to places that are for sale across the fucking street from me, I think I'm going to lose the rest of my hair. Seriously, I need a fucking break.
In the last month, I have worked a total of 224 hours. >_< Thankfully, this overtime will be ending the week of the 26th. I loveloveLOVE the paychecks, but I need a break. I seriously feel like I live here. I've seen my road crews more than my own son and, much as he pushes me to throw a tantrum in frustration, I miss the kid. Plus, my housework has fallen way behind. The place looks presentable as far as the living room and kitchen, but if you dare to venture past that, you do so at your own risk. Greg keeps saying he'll help out, but I haven't seen it yet. I can't really blame him, though. He's working just as much as I am, if not more. Needless to say, my frustration level is through the fucking roof. If he wasn't able to make all happy and tingly at night, I'd have probably killed someone by now.
Speaking of Greg, I think I may need to take that boy's debit card and check book from him and give him an allowance. I really don't see any other way to keep him from digging this hole he gets into EVERYTIME he gets paid! Granted, he does have some stuff that's auto-pay, but other than that, there's really no reason that I can see that his money situation should be what it is. I mean, I'm not really all that good managing money, either, but I could keep him from being in the hole. Maybe he'll actually let me do that this time, instead of telling me I'm in charge of his finances and not letting me do anything.
And, the ex-husband. I know he's just trying to get out of his parents house. But across the street? Really? That thought just doesn't sit well with me. I doubt he'll be able to get approved cuzz of his credit, but still. Why would he want to move in across the street?! What purpose would that serve? Granted, he'd be able to see Alex more, but that would also mean that he'd be in my space. My comfort zone. It just doesn't make me feel right. Is it just me? Am I just being a bitch here? Ugh.
I'm considering shaving my head more and more every day. The PCOS is making my hair fall out. It keep getting worse. I'm to a point now where if I can't get a headband to pull my hair back just right, I'll wear a ball cap to cover it up. It really makes me self conscious and I hate that. I'm 26 and I am balding. Like a man. There's a spot in the front and a spot in the back. I really want to buy a wig or two to wear after I shave my head, but I can't afford it. I'm thinking that if I can ever get some of this weight off (doubtful) that I can shave it then and not look like a total freak. Wishful thinking, I'm sure. Groar.
On a positive note, the car is running great and I can get myself to and from places without having to beg like a teenager. Hehe. That makes me giddy. YAY car! Overall, things aren't really all that bad. I'm just stressed out. BIG time. What else is new, though? LOL
Between working a shit ton of hours, bailing the boyfriend out of financial issues and having my ex-husband call me for phone numbers to places that are for sale across the fucking street from me, I think I'm going to lose the rest of my hair. Seriously, I need a fucking break.
In the last month, I have worked a total of 224 hours. >_< Thankfully, this overtime will be ending the week of the 26th. I loveloveLOVE the paychecks, but I need a break. I seriously feel like I live here. I've seen my road crews more than my own son and, much as he pushes me to throw a tantrum in frustration, I miss the kid. Plus, my housework has fallen way behind. The place looks presentable as far as the living room and kitchen, but if you dare to venture past that, you do so at your own risk. Greg keeps saying he'll help out, but I haven't seen it yet. I can't really blame him, though. He's working just as much as I am, if not more. Needless to say, my frustration level is through the fucking roof. If he wasn't able to make all happy and tingly at night, I'd have probably killed someone by now.
Speaking of Greg, I think I may need to take that boy's debit card and check book from him and give him an allowance. I really don't see any other way to keep him from digging this hole he gets into EVERYTIME he gets paid! Granted, he does have some stuff that's auto-pay, but other than that, there's really no reason that I can see that his money situation should be what it is. I mean, I'm not really all that good managing money, either, but I could keep him from being in the hole. Maybe he'll actually let me do that this time, instead of telling me I'm in charge of his finances and not letting me do anything.
And, the ex-husband. I know he's just trying to get out of his parents house. But across the street? Really? That thought just doesn't sit well with me. I doubt he'll be able to get approved cuzz of his credit, but still. Why would he want to move in across the street?! What purpose would that serve? Granted, he'd be able to see Alex more, but that would also mean that he'd be in my space. My comfort zone. It just doesn't make me feel right. Is it just me? Am I just being a bitch here? Ugh.
I'm considering shaving my head more and more every day. The PCOS is making my hair fall out. It keep getting worse. I'm to a point now where if I can't get a headband to pull my hair back just right, I'll wear a ball cap to cover it up. It really makes me self conscious and I hate that. I'm 26 and I am balding. Like a man. There's a spot in the front and a spot in the back. I really want to buy a wig or two to wear after I shave my head, but I can't afford it. I'm thinking that if I can ever get some of this weight off (doubtful) that I can shave it then and not look like a total freak. Wishful thinking, I'm sure. Groar.
On a positive note, the car is running great and I can get myself to and from places without having to beg like a teenager. Hehe. That makes me giddy. YAY car! Overall, things aren't really all that bad. I'm just stressed out. BIG time. What else is new, though? LOL
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
MEME!!!
5 Items in my Fridge
1~ Ginormous tub of yogurt.
I've decided that I need to diet again. Yogurt is supposed to help people lose weight. We'll see.
2~ A shit ton of milk.
The last time I went grocery shopping, we needed cereal. We obtained said cereal. Approx. 8 different boxes of cereal. Nuff said.
3~ CHEESE
I keep my cheese in the veggie bin. This perplexes my son to no end. Everytime he opens the fridge, he lectures me about how cheese should not be in that bin.
4~ Ranch Dressing
This is a staple of my diet and probably why I need to diet. I will not give up my ranch!
5~ Beer
So, there's a 40 and a 24 ounce can of Bud in my fridge. Money was short and I was thirsty dammit! LOL
5 Items in my Closet
1~ An old uniform shirt
I thought I had given all my uniforms back when I picked up my last paycheck. I found another one while I was rifling through my closet looking for something to wear. Oops.
2~ A bullet.
Nuff said.
3~ Random shoes
I have shoes from forever ago in my closet cuzz one day, one day, I might wear them again.
4~ A dresser
Needed to conserve space in the actual bedroom. When I moved it in there, I had my son's dresser, Greg's dresser, Greg's computer, an end table and a bed all in that room. My dresser had to go somewhere.
5~ My art stuff
There's a sketch pad, some pastels and some charcoal pencils in there. Sometimes I like to drink wine and play art.
5 Items in my Purse
1~ Wallet
I finally got a purse without a built-in wallet thingie. That meant I had to buy one. I kinda like it.
2~ Glasses case
I'm pretty much legally blind. Without my glasses or contacts, I can't see shit. My contacts sometimes like to revolt and tell me they aren't going to be nice to wear. Luckily, I can fit glasses, contact case and a little vial of solution into one glasses case.
3~ My ugly cat
My Aunt travels around the world and lives in another country. On one of her jaunts, she came across this gold coin purse in the shape of a cat's head. The beadwork makes it look like a cat's face. It's kinda ugly, but she bought it for my cuzz it reminded her of me. o_O It's what I keep my change in.
4~ Lipstick
I love lipstick! No clue why, but I have a shitton of it. In my purse.
5~ Inhalers
I'm asthmatic, so I have 2 different inhalers in my purse at all times. Meh.
5 Items in my Car
1~ Empty soda bottles
I'm a soda freak and I'm horrible about taking my bottles inside. That's 10 cents a bottle and if I get enough in there, that's a tank of gas!
2~ A Baby Looney Toons blanket
My son loves that blanket. It went to school with him at the beginning of the year for nap time and as soon as they let him take it home, it went with him wherever he went. Until he decided to spill fruit punch on it. Now it lives in my back seat. At least until I take it out.
3~ Wendy's coupons
My mommy gave me some coupons she had when I took her to work the other morning. I'm thinking I may make use of them tonight when I get out of work.
4~ A Meijer's shopping bag
This is around the gear shift. It serves as a garbage bag. I forget it's there a lot.
5~ A booster seat
My son is not 4 ft 9in or 80 lbs, therefore, he gets a special seat.
And there it is. Sorry it wasn't put up yesterday, but I got caught up in a Eucher game at work and then Greg's computer started to do weird things. I now tag anyone who happens to read this. ^_^
1~ Ginormous tub of yogurt.
I've decided that I need to diet again. Yogurt is supposed to help people lose weight. We'll see.
2~ A shit ton of milk.
The last time I went grocery shopping, we needed cereal. We obtained said cereal. Approx. 8 different boxes of cereal. Nuff said.
3~ CHEESE
I keep my cheese in the veggie bin. This perplexes my son to no end. Everytime he opens the fridge, he lectures me about how cheese should not be in that bin.
4~ Ranch Dressing
This is a staple of my diet and probably why I need to diet. I will not give up my ranch!
5~ Beer
So, there's a 40 and a 24 ounce can of Bud in my fridge. Money was short and I was thirsty dammit! LOL
5 Items in my Closet
1~ An old uniform shirt
I thought I had given all my uniforms back when I picked up my last paycheck. I found another one while I was rifling through my closet looking for something to wear. Oops.
2~ A bullet.
Nuff said.
3~ Random shoes
I have shoes from forever ago in my closet cuzz one day, one day, I might wear them again.
4~ A dresser
Needed to conserve space in the actual bedroom. When I moved it in there, I had my son's dresser, Greg's dresser, Greg's computer, an end table and a bed all in that room. My dresser had to go somewhere.
5~ My art stuff
There's a sketch pad, some pastels and some charcoal pencils in there. Sometimes I like to drink wine and play art.
5 Items in my Purse
1~ Wallet
I finally got a purse without a built-in wallet thingie. That meant I had to buy one. I kinda like it.
2~ Glasses case
I'm pretty much legally blind. Without my glasses or contacts, I can't see shit. My contacts sometimes like to revolt and tell me they aren't going to be nice to wear. Luckily, I can fit glasses, contact case and a little vial of solution into one glasses case.
3~ My ugly cat
My Aunt travels around the world and lives in another country. On one of her jaunts, she came across this gold coin purse in the shape of a cat's head. The beadwork makes it look like a cat's face. It's kinda ugly, but she bought it for my cuzz it reminded her of me. o_O It's what I keep my change in.
4~ Lipstick
I love lipstick! No clue why, but I have a shitton of it. In my purse.
5~ Inhalers
I'm asthmatic, so I have 2 different inhalers in my purse at all times. Meh.
5 Items in my Car
1~ Empty soda bottles
I'm a soda freak and I'm horrible about taking my bottles inside. That's 10 cents a bottle and if I get enough in there, that's a tank of gas!
2~ A Baby Looney Toons blanket
My son loves that blanket. It went to school with him at the beginning of the year for nap time and as soon as they let him take it home, it went with him wherever he went. Until he decided to spill fruit punch on it. Now it lives in my back seat. At least until I take it out.
3~ Wendy's coupons
My mommy gave me some coupons she had when I took her to work the other morning. I'm thinking I may make use of them tonight when I get out of work.
4~ A Meijer's shopping bag
This is around the gear shift. It serves as a garbage bag. I forget it's there a lot.
5~ A booster seat
My son is not 4 ft 9in or 80 lbs, therefore, he gets a special seat.
And there it is. Sorry it wasn't put up yesterday, but I got caught up in a Eucher game at work and then Greg's computer started to do weird things. I now tag anyone who happens to read this. ^_^
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Bad Blogger, BAD!
Damn, I neglect the hell out of this thing.
I deleted the last entry. I had honestly forgotten I had written it. When I read it, I decided that I really didn't want that out there for someone to stubble across randomly anymore. I was kinda drunk when I wrote it, which, given the subject matter, was probably a dead give away as to the state of my mind. It's not something I talk about. At least not often.
So, anyway, what is new in the land of Brite? Not a whole helluva lot, really. I did manage to land myself a car, though. I gots me a pretty little black 99 Cavalier. Named Tabby. Hush now, Tabby is a good name for her.
I've been working a shit ton of overtime lately. Oh yeah, I don't know if I mentioned that I changed employers. After a little over 2 years, I left DVA to work for a new ambulance company started by Genesys Regional Medical Center. Basically, I get more money and HEALTH INSURANCE! That was pretty much the clincher as far as me leaving DVA. There was rumor that they were going to match my wages, but they couldn't touch the benefits package. Leaving sucked, but I think it benefited me pretty well. Basically, I'm happy with the change. The overtime will be ending pretty quickly and, while I like the paychecks I've been getting, I can not wait for it to be over! I miss my son. I feel like I don't ever see him anymore. Last Sunday, we had a "sleep out" in the living room. Basically, we got Dairy Queen for a late diner, watched cartoons, ate ice cream, stayed up late and slept in the living room. It was actually a pretty good time. I liked just hanging out with him. I think when Greg works nights, we'll do that. It'll be at least once a month. The boy wants to do that EVERY night now. LOL
The boy is getting big. We're gonna teach him to ride a bike this summer. Greg feels bad cuzz there are kids around that are much smaller than Alex who are riding bikes with out training wheels. I have to keep reminding him that the boy is ginormous for his age. I mean, he's 5 and already just over 4 ft tall. I don't know any other 5 year olds who are that tall. The fact that he's a skinny little shit, makes him seem like he's even taller than he is. So, when Greg and I have some free time, which is basically, Mondays and Tuesdays right now, we'll be learnin that 5 year old how to ride a bike. As crass as it sounds, I know his dad won't teach him. He's too wrapped up in his now ex-fiance and her random bullshit to be bothered. Mind you, that doesn't stop him from claiming that when he has nothing, he has the boy and that is totally the most important thing but OMG she did this and said this and YOU NEED TO FEEL SORRY FOR ME!!!
Yeah. It's like that.
I get that he needs to unload and I totally understand that he has no one he can really vent to. If he talks to his family about it, they tell him he's stupid. He doesn't really have any friends anymore, so there's that option. All that's left? Calling me. I do know that if he does wind up getting back together with her, we'll be back in court fighting over whether or not he can see the boy. I do not want my son around her. Some of the things that his dad has told me about her and how she acts around my son, whether they were bullshit or not, have made me not want him there. I mean, tell me how many 26 year olds you know would push a 5 year old into a river with a well known strong current? My SON told me about that. Granted, he thinks that she was just playing, but I know of many, many people who've been pushed into the same river and died cuzz the current pulled them into the rotator things in the dam. Even thinking about that pisses me off. There will DEFINITELY be a custody fight if he moves back in with her. I've told him that, so hopefully he keeps that in mind. His family has already told me they will completely back me if it comes down to that, which kinda surprised me. At the very least, I'll have support.
So, that' s pretty much all that's been going on in my happy little corner of the world. Tonight, I'm off to burn things in a pit in Durand. Mmm... Bonfire.
***something I found interesting. I just did a spell check and it said that I had spelled working workign. It's suggestion for a replacement? ORGASM. ^_^ That just made me giggle and I thought I'd share.
I deleted the last entry. I had honestly forgotten I had written it. When I read it, I decided that I really didn't want that out there for someone to stubble across randomly anymore. I was kinda drunk when I wrote it, which, given the subject matter, was probably a dead give away as to the state of my mind. It's not something I talk about. At least not often.
So, anyway, what is new in the land of Brite? Not a whole helluva lot, really. I did manage to land myself a car, though. I gots me a pretty little black 99 Cavalier. Named Tabby. Hush now, Tabby is a good name for her.
I've been working a shit ton of overtime lately. Oh yeah, I don't know if I mentioned that I changed employers. After a little over 2 years, I left DVA to work for a new ambulance company started by Genesys Regional Medical Center. Basically, I get more money and HEALTH INSURANCE! That was pretty much the clincher as far as me leaving DVA. There was rumor that they were going to match my wages, but they couldn't touch the benefits package. Leaving sucked, but I think it benefited me pretty well. Basically, I'm happy with the change. The overtime will be ending pretty quickly and, while I like the paychecks I've been getting, I can not wait for it to be over! I miss my son. I feel like I don't ever see him anymore. Last Sunday, we had a "sleep out" in the living room. Basically, we got Dairy Queen for a late diner, watched cartoons, ate ice cream, stayed up late and slept in the living room. It was actually a pretty good time. I liked just hanging out with him. I think when Greg works nights, we'll do that. It'll be at least once a month. The boy wants to do that EVERY night now. LOL
The boy is getting big. We're gonna teach him to ride a bike this summer. Greg feels bad cuzz there are kids around that are much smaller than Alex who are riding bikes with out training wheels. I have to keep reminding him that the boy is ginormous for his age. I mean, he's 5 and already just over 4 ft tall. I don't know any other 5 year olds who are that tall. The fact that he's a skinny little shit, makes him seem like he's even taller than he is. So, when Greg and I have some free time, which is basically, Mondays and Tuesdays right now, we'll be learnin that 5 year old how to ride a bike. As crass as it sounds, I know his dad won't teach him. He's too wrapped up in his now ex-fiance and her random bullshit to be bothered. Mind you, that doesn't stop him from claiming that when he has nothing, he has the boy and that is totally the most important thing but OMG she did this and said this and YOU NEED TO FEEL SORRY FOR ME!!!
Yeah. It's like that.
I get that he needs to unload and I totally understand that he has no one he can really vent to. If he talks to his family about it, they tell him he's stupid. He doesn't really have any friends anymore, so there's that option. All that's left? Calling me. I do know that if he does wind up getting back together with her, we'll be back in court fighting over whether or not he can see the boy. I do not want my son around her. Some of the things that his dad has told me about her and how she acts around my son, whether they were bullshit or not, have made me not want him there. I mean, tell me how many 26 year olds you know would push a 5 year old into a river with a well known strong current? My SON told me about that. Granted, he thinks that she was just playing, but I know of many, many people who've been pushed into the same river and died cuzz the current pulled them into the rotator things in the dam. Even thinking about that pisses me off. There will DEFINITELY be a custody fight if he moves back in with her. I've told him that, so hopefully he keeps that in mind. His family has already told me they will completely back me if it comes down to that, which kinda surprised me. At the very least, I'll have support.
So, that' s pretty much all that's been going on in my happy little corner of the world. Tonight, I'm off to burn things in a pit in Durand. Mmm... Bonfire.
***something I found interesting. I just did a spell check and it said that I had spelled working workign. It's suggestion for a replacement? ORGASM. ^_^ That just made me giggle and I thought I'd share.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
I am the mess you chose
The closet you cannot close,
The devil in you I suppose
'Cause the wounds never heal.
-from Everything Changes by Staind
I'm in an odd frame of mind. This happens every now and again, as I'm sure it does with everyone. I'm not sure what exactly brought this on, but it's here. What's off, is that I was in a reallyreallyreally good mood this morning at work and now I'm... Odd. There's just no other word I can come up with for it. I recognize the mood. I've been here before. Thing is, this time, I'm not sure when I'll be able to get it out of my system.
I need to be alone. Soon. Greg will be gone April 14th, which is rapidly approaching, but I'm not sure I can wait that long and not freak out at some point. It's pretty safe to say, though, that if I do have to wait that long and have a freak out, no one will really notice. This isn't something that I've made known to a lot of people that I do. What it really boils down to, I suppose, is that I feel like if I let too many people know, they will know I'm not as strong of a person a everyone seems to think I am and have always been. And I know it's nothing serious. I'm not contemplating playing the Suicide Game or anything like that. Chances are I'm just being overdramatic and full of hormone induced moody bullshit. But, I know how I am when I get in this frame of mind and, really, being alone to work it out in my own way, is the only way I know how to deal with it.
There is a lot I haven't accomplished in my life. Granted, I'm still rather young, so there's plenty of time to do some things. There are a lot of choices I wish I had made differently. A lot. Regrets? No, not at all. After all, I made the choices I did for a reason. And had I not made them, I wouldn't have gone down the path that I have and, ultimately, become the woman I am today. But those fucking What ifs... Nag at me relentlessly when I'm like this. What if I hadn't done this or What if I had gone there... Things like that. And I wind up imagining what my life would be like. Which is totally fine. I think more people daydream a bit like that then they care to admit. But what I don't like about that, is that once I'm done imagining, my heart just aches. And I wind up wondering about people I've loved through my life and what I've done to drive them away. More often than not, I realize it's pretty much just an issue of growing apart or whatever, but not when I get like this. When I'm in the frame of mind I'm in right now, I'm convinced that everything that has ever gone a different way than what I wanted, is my fault. Regardless of whether or not there's really even fault to be found.
I want to go home and be alone. Just me. I want a bottle or two of wine and I want to be left alone to look through the things I've collected in my suitcase over the years. I want to be able to just purge myself of those feelings all at once. When I get like this, I can usually find a time to do just that. But I have to be alone. I need to be alone in order to let myself go. I tend to cry when I do this. Crying in front of humans? Not an option. Hell no. That shows weakness and I can't let people see that. No. With the exception of What Dreams May Come, I will not allow people to see me even tear up at a movie. (that movie tears me apart everytime I see it) Chances are, there was something instilled in me when I was younger that makes me not be able to cry in front of people. If it ever actually does happen, I'm either very drunk or there is something very wrong. That's just the way it is. I've been interrupted before, and the moment someone walks in on that, there is nothing but something and sunshine flying out of my ass. When they leave, I continue. But, this time, I just want the house to myself so I don't have to worry about someone randomly walking in and having this whole awkward thing. I want to be able to go through my things and be able to... I guess, grieve, over things that make me ache. Be able to have one night to myself where I don't have to be so fucking chipper or strong. I want to just not be happy and not have to blame it on my fucked up hormones. Ok, so 9 times out of 10, that actually is the problem, but damn it, I don't want to have to keep saying it. I want to light my candles, drink my wine and be fucking emo. Be a fucking emo girl! And I want to do that without being stared at by anyone. I don't want to have to worry if someone needs me to listen to them talk about their day. I don't want to have to worry about anyone needing me to wash clothes or sheets. I don't want to have to worry about getting up and going to work. I don't want to worry about paying the fucking bills. I don't want to worry about whether or not I'm gonna be able to buy fucking groceries so I can make dinner. I don't want to worry about people getting pissed off at me if I don't send a pair of fucking jeans somewhere.
I want to remember when my life wasn't so full of worries. I want to think about when things were simpler, even though the most trivial things felt like life and death issues. I want to remember what it was like to have someone go somewhere with you out of their love for you, cuzz they wanted to see you happy, instead of telling you it's out of the question cuzz they think it's beneath them. I want to remember who I was. I want to figure out where I lost myself...
Here's the bullshit of everything, though. I want to be alone, yet I'm terrified of it. At least at night. My cat, Harley, has learned how to unlock the lock on the door knobs for front and back door. My back door is ALWAYS locked. That door is very rarely ever used. When I see one of the locks is moved, I tend to panic. In my mind, when the back door is unlocked, everything can change. Everything becomes dangerous. When the back door isn't locked... HE can get in. And while I know he doesn't know where I live and, more than likely, doesn't think about me at all, the fact that that door is not locked means everything happened. That it actually happened. And if it happened once, it can happen again. And so I panic. The only explanation I have for that door coming unlocked is Harley. She's opened the door to my bedroom a couple times to let herself out and I've seen her unlock the front door. The dryer is right next to the back door, so she has ample opportunity. The deadbolt isn't unlocked, so everything suggests that my soon to be 12 year old cat, is fucking with my head. But it still sends me into a panic. And I hate that even more than letting people see me cry.
I want to be alone and yet, I'm fucking terrified of it at the same time...
Hello world. My name is fucked in the head. How are you?
Sunday, March 12, 2006
So, his mom bought his ticket. He'll be gone April 14 - 17. He never even asked if I was upset that he had told me he wanted me to go and then made plans to go with out me. heh. I'm contemplating taking the time off anyway and just spending the weekend drunk. I could save some money back and buy tickets to see Whitey Morgan on the 14th and Slave to the System on the 15th up at The Machine Shop. Find me a driver and just get shit faced. Or I can buy a few bottles of wine and play art.
I had a dream that I had a bunch of wine and a piece of canvas as big as the floor where the kitchen table sits. I was drinking wine and drawing with my charcoals and pastels. I had charcoal smudges everywhere and was so into whatever it was that I was drawing, that I didn't notice a friend had walked in. He was just standing in the doorway. I had an opera blaring from a stereo and was just feverishly drawing. I'd sit back and look at it and sip my wine and then just tear into it again, the whole my friend was just watching me in awe. It made me want to play art again. And, I was wicked skinny, too, so THAT was awesome. LOL
I think that's what I'll do. I think I'm gonna out in for my vacation, get wine and play art while Greg is gone. Maybe I'll see if my friend wants to come over, too. Hell, I haven't seen him in a while and Greg doesn't want to actually meet him, so that won't be an issue. And while he may not be happy that I asked him over while I'm home alone, he can get over that. I'm not sacrificing my friend for anyone again. Matt pulled that shit with me. Never again...
So, now I have a plan. Vacation time for when I was asked to go with Greg but then left out of the actual planning process. Getting a ginormous canvas to play art on while drinking wine. Asking Ron if he wants to come over and keep me company. He has to pick up the video he left over last time anyway. And it always helps that I have someone with me when there's no one else coming home. I have issues with being home alone.
Now, to work on that wicked skinny thing...
I had a dream that I had a bunch of wine and a piece of canvas as big as the floor where the kitchen table sits. I was drinking wine and drawing with my charcoals and pastels. I had charcoal smudges everywhere and was so into whatever it was that I was drawing, that I didn't notice a friend had walked in. He was just standing in the doorway. I had an opera blaring from a stereo and was just feverishly drawing. I'd sit back and look at it and sip my wine and then just tear into it again, the whole my friend was just watching me in awe. It made me want to play art again. And, I was wicked skinny, too, so THAT was awesome. LOL
I think that's what I'll do. I think I'm gonna out in for my vacation, get wine and play art while Greg is gone. Maybe I'll see if my friend wants to come over, too. Hell, I haven't seen him in a while and Greg doesn't want to actually meet him, so that won't be an issue. And while he may not be happy that I asked him over while I'm home alone, he can get over that. I'm not sacrificing my friend for anyone again. Matt pulled that shit with me. Never again...
So, now I have a plan. Vacation time for when I was asked to go with Greg but then left out of the actual planning process. Getting a ginormous canvas to play art on while drinking wine. Asking Ron if he wants to come over and keep me company. He has to pick up the video he left over last time anyway. And it always helps that I have someone with me when there's no one else coming home. I have issues with being home alone.
Now, to work on that wicked skinny thing...
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Welp, looks like I have once again neglected this blogs. Ugh. I need to stop doing that. It just seems like if there's not a whole lot of drama going on in front of my face, I forget about this blog. O_o
So, not too much has really been happening. Still throwing darts on Wednesdays and then going up to The Machine Shop to make an asshole out of myself at karaoke afterwards. I'm generally a pretty good singer, but I'm always drunk as hell when I'm up there for some reason and I sound like shit. I don't like that. It's seriously bothering me that I sound bad when I'm up there. Doing it sober is always an option, but being on that stage where some of my favorite bands have played sold out shows is pretty intimidating. One of these days...
I picked the boy up from his dad's a few weeks ago and saw the fiance making flower arrangements in the living room with her brother's girlfriend. They were lilies. At first, I thought that the boy had wanted to do something nice for me at random like he does sometimes and since his dad knows lilies are my favorite, I thought maybe he had helped him pick some out or something. The boy had actually asked me earlier in the week if lilies were my favorite cuzz he remembered them being planted under my bedroom window. That thought was there for only a minute, though, as I realized it was the fiance and her brother's girlfriend making the bouquets and laughing. When the boy and I got out to the car and on our way home, I asked him what the flowers were for. He said they were for teh wedding. I asked when it was and he said he didn't know, but that it was gonna be soon. He then went on and on about how his brothers and sister (the fiance's kids) and his two little cousins will be there and blahblahblah happy kid babble. I'm glad he's happy about it. It's important to me that he be happy that his parents remarry. I guess I'm just still a bit taken a back about the speed it's happening for his father is all.
I know it's not really any of my business, but I'd like to know when the wedding is. I'm sure the boy will be staying with his grandparents when it happens as majority of weddings are on the weekend and the boy is with his dad on the weekends. And I'm a little weired out by the way the lilies are making me feel. It's like just seeing them reopened all the old hurt somehow. I had a bouquet my mom bought me at the last minute. It was a nice bouquet and I('m glad I had it, but I didn't get to pick out my own flowers. If I had, I would've had lilies. I wore a dress that was my mother's but was too big on her. It barely fit me since I was 6 months pregnant. It was a nice dress, but I didn't really have a choice in it. It was wear that one or wear the same maternity clothes I'd been alternating days wearing. I got my hair done by myself. I was dropped off at the salon by the boy's dad. I told them to pretty much do whatever they wanted, but I wanted it up. I had a lot of hair then, so me telling them to do whatever as long as it was up was like giving them a barbie to play with. My hair was beautiful, full of ringlet curls that cascaded. I was almost late to the City Hall cuzz my step-dad and my little brother got into a fight about something. The day became about them. No one had really been focused on me anyway, but having everything suddenly hinge on whether or not they got their shit together really aggravated me. Add in the pregnancy hormones and the nagging thought that we needed to wait a little longer before getting married and you have instant stressed out pregnant bride. I forced my smile in the pictures that were taken. I tried desperately to hide my belly with my flowers. And I stood in the back of the room the majority of the time we were there, trying not to burst into tears. My wedding was nothing I had envisioned it would be. Like most little girls, I had dreamed up the wedding I wanted when I was very very young. The only thing I got that I wanted? I walked down the "aisle" by myself.
Seeing those lilies made me think of everything that I missed. The planning, the having brides maids, the dress fittings... All that shit that is SO stressful while it's happening, but makes for memories you'll always have. The only thing I was able to do was pick out a set of wedding bands in white gold that together cost about $70. His parents bought them for us cuzz we were that broke. Heh. I didn't have a honeymoon. I went home and slept on the couch. There was no grand love making or whatever. Hell, I didn't want him to touch me for most of my pregnancy anyway. I slept on the couch that night. I don't even remember where he slept.
Seeing those lilies made me jealous as hell. She's getting all the memories. She's getting the flowers. She's getting the man he promised me he would be, but never became. And while I'm more than happy to step aside and let them be happy, it still hurts. And I hate myself for it.
I hate that this is hurting me. I hate that when I look at Greg, all I can wonder is if he's gonna be like the boy's dad was. Is he going to promise me things that he knows will make me happy and then not follow through? Is he gonna sit there and talk about things that I want for our future, say he wants them too and then sit back while I work my ass off to try and accomplish those things? Greg and I had talked about taking a few days off work this summer and going to either Vermont or Conneticut. For some reason I've always wanted to do something like that. Stay at a bed and breakfast and take a tour of the vineyards in Conneticut or go play golf in Vermont during the day and have a romantic dinner at night and get drunk on wine and food and just being around each other. I've always fantasized about something like that. It's completely girly, I know, but I've just always wanted to do something like that. Greg seemed to get just as excited as I was about it. I told him that if we agreed to start saving money to do that, it needed to happen. That if it didn't, I was going to be very upset. He said it would and I set about looking at places and tours and what not. I signed up for information to be sent to me and all that crap. Started figuring out how much of my check I would set aside and considered opening a seperate account just for that. I asked last week if he wanted to golf at Sugarloaf or if he wanted to go somewhere else. He kind of looked at me confused. Greg is very forgetful, so I reminded him about the trip. He said he wouldn't be able to go with me. I guess he's his nephew's sponsor or something. He's 2 and it has to do with the Catholic church, which Greg's family is devout. I just looked at him and he said that he needs to use the time he was gonna take for our trip to go down to one of the Carolina's, I can't remember which, so he can do this for his nephew. He redeemed himself when he told me he wanted me to go with him. I said I'd see about getting the time. It's much sooner than what we were planning, but f I could get the time, we could just do stuff in whatever Carolina we were gonna be in. It wasn't what I wanted exactly, but I could handle that. I figured driving would be cheaper and we could stay in a small B&B or a hotel or something. Yesterday as I was getting ready for work, his mom called. She wanted to know if he knew if he actually got the time off for sure. I don't know what all was said, but when I asked, I found out that she wants to buy him a plane ticket. Notice I didn't say "us". I'm not sure if that's his mom's way of telling me I'm not welcome or if Greg thought that I'd just drive down there after work one night or something. When he said his mom wanted to buy him a ticket, I said I can't afford that. He kinda shrugged. I told him there was obviously no point in my trying to get the time off now and I left. I'm so disappointed it's unreal. And all I can wonder about is whether or not he's going to do the same thing the boy's father did to me.
I'm hurting and it's over stupid shit. I know it's stupid, yet I can't make it stop. And I that myself for it....
So, not too much has really been happening. Still throwing darts on Wednesdays and then going up to The Machine Shop to make an asshole out of myself at karaoke afterwards. I'm generally a pretty good singer, but I'm always drunk as hell when I'm up there for some reason and I sound like shit. I don't like that. It's seriously bothering me that I sound bad when I'm up there. Doing it sober is always an option, but being on that stage where some of my favorite bands have played sold out shows is pretty intimidating. One of these days...
I picked the boy up from his dad's a few weeks ago and saw the fiance making flower arrangements in the living room with her brother's girlfriend. They were lilies. At first, I thought that the boy had wanted to do something nice for me at random like he does sometimes and since his dad knows lilies are my favorite, I thought maybe he had helped him pick some out or something. The boy had actually asked me earlier in the week if lilies were my favorite cuzz he remembered them being planted under my bedroom window. That thought was there for only a minute, though, as I realized it was the fiance and her brother's girlfriend making the bouquets and laughing. When the boy and I got out to the car and on our way home, I asked him what the flowers were for. He said they were for teh wedding. I asked when it was and he said he didn't know, but that it was gonna be soon. He then went on and on about how his brothers and sister (the fiance's kids) and his two little cousins will be there and blahblahblah happy kid babble. I'm glad he's happy about it. It's important to me that he be happy that his parents remarry. I guess I'm just still a bit taken a back about the speed it's happening for his father is all.
I know it's not really any of my business, but I'd like to know when the wedding is. I'm sure the boy will be staying with his grandparents when it happens as majority of weddings are on the weekend and the boy is with his dad on the weekends. And I'm a little weired out by the way the lilies are making me feel. It's like just seeing them reopened all the old hurt somehow. I had a bouquet my mom bought me at the last minute. It was a nice bouquet and I('m glad I had it, but I didn't get to pick out my own flowers. If I had, I would've had lilies. I wore a dress that was my mother's but was too big on her. It barely fit me since I was 6 months pregnant. It was a nice dress, but I didn't really have a choice in it. It was wear that one or wear the same maternity clothes I'd been alternating days wearing. I got my hair done by myself. I was dropped off at the salon by the boy's dad. I told them to pretty much do whatever they wanted, but I wanted it up. I had a lot of hair then, so me telling them to do whatever as long as it was up was like giving them a barbie to play with. My hair was beautiful, full of ringlet curls that cascaded. I was almost late to the City Hall cuzz my step-dad and my little brother got into a fight about something. The day became about them. No one had really been focused on me anyway, but having everything suddenly hinge on whether or not they got their shit together really aggravated me. Add in the pregnancy hormones and the nagging thought that we needed to wait a little longer before getting married and you have instant stressed out pregnant bride. I forced my smile in the pictures that were taken. I tried desperately to hide my belly with my flowers. And I stood in the back of the room the majority of the time we were there, trying not to burst into tears. My wedding was nothing I had envisioned it would be. Like most little girls, I had dreamed up the wedding I wanted when I was very very young. The only thing I got that I wanted? I walked down the "aisle" by myself.
Seeing those lilies made me think of everything that I missed. The planning, the having brides maids, the dress fittings... All that shit that is SO stressful while it's happening, but makes for memories you'll always have. The only thing I was able to do was pick out a set of wedding bands in white gold that together cost about $70. His parents bought them for us cuzz we were that broke. Heh. I didn't have a honeymoon. I went home and slept on the couch. There was no grand love making or whatever. Hell, I didn't want him to touch me for most of my pregnancy anyway. I slept on the couch that night. I don't even remember where he slept.
Seeing those lilies made me jealous as hell. She's getting all the memories. She's getting the flowers. She's getting the man he promised me he would be, but never became. And while I'm more than happy to step aside and let them be happy, it still hurts. And I hate myself for it.
I hate that this is hurting me. I hate that when I look at Greg, all I can wonder is if he's gonna be like the boy's dad was. Is he going to promise me things that he knows will make me happy and then not follow through? Is he gonna sit there and talk about things that I want for our future, say he wants them too and then sit back while I work my ass off to try and accomplish those things? Greg and I had talked about taking a few days off work this summer and going to either Vermont or Conneticut. For some reason I've always wanted to do something like that. Stay at a bed and breakfast and take a tour of the vineyards in Conneticut or go play golf in Vermont during the day and have a romantic dinner at night and get drunk on wine and food and just being around each other. I've always fantasized about something like that. It's completely girly, I know, but I've just always wanted to do something like that. Greg seemed to get just as excited as I was about it. I told him that if we agreed to start saving money to do that, it needed to happen. That if it didn't, I was going to be very upset. He said it would and I set about looking at places and tours and what not. I signed up for information to be sent to me and all that crap. Started figuring out how much of my check I would set aside and considered opening a seperate account just for that. I asked last week if he wanted to golf at Sugarloaf or if he wanted to go somewhere else. He kind of looked at me confused. Greg is very forgetful, so I reminded him about the trip. He said he wouldn't be able to go with me. I guess he's his nephew's sponsor or something. He's 2 and it has to do with the Catholic church, which Greg's family is devout. I just looked at him and he said that he needs to use the time he was gonna take for our trip to go down to one of the Carolina's, I can't remember which, so he can do this for his nephew. He redeemed himself when he told me he wanted me to go with him. I said I'd see about getting the time. It's much sooner than what we were planning, but f I could get the time, we could just do stuff in whatever Carolina we were gonna be in. It wasn't what I wanted exactly, but I could handle that. I figured driving would be cheaper and we could stay in a small B&B or a hotel or something. Yesterday as I was getting ready for work, his mom called. She wanted to know if he knew if he actually got the time off for sure. I don't know what all was said, but when I asked, I found out that she wants to buy him a plane ticket. Notice I didn't say "us". I'm not sure if that's his mom's way of telling me I'm not welcome or if Greg thought that I'd just drive down there after work one night or something. When he said his mom wanted to buy him a ticket, I said I can't afford that. He kinda shrugged. I told him there was obviously no point in my trying to get the time off now and I left. I'm so disappointed it's unreal. And all I can wonder about is whether or not he's going to do the same thing the boy's father did to me.
I'm hurting and it's over stupid shit. I know it's stupid, yet I can't make it stop. And I that myself for it....
Friday, February 03, 2006
Thank lord Alex was born male. This way I know he won't have to go through half the medical bullshit I've had to. But, he'll still be racking up the medical bills I'm sure. What am I blathering about? Let me tell you!
I picked Alex up from his dad's Sunday night after work. Matt said he was complaining of some pain in his abdomin where the waistband of his underwear sits. Matt had an infection this past summer and the pain began in the same area, so we were keeping an eye on it. Monday morning, Alex was complaining of foot pain and showed me a bump on his toe. I couldn't tell if it was a blister or a wart, but we washed it and put on a Spider-Man Band-Aid. That night, he was up all night puking. When he woke up on Tuesday morning, he was fine, so I sent him to school. Wednesday he went on a field trip to watch the Flint Generals. Then we headed out for his dr. appt.
This was a routine appt set up to check his lungs and make sure his breathing treatments were helping him. I'm an asshole and wound up getting there an hour early cuzz it didn't actually take as long as I thought it would. The appt was for 4PM. He played and we read books and watched Jimmy Neutron while we were waiting. I was hoping to get moved up to an earlier slot if it was available, but it wasn't. So, when 4 rolled around, I figured that we'd be going back to a room shortly. I couldn't have been more wrong. >_<>
We showed her Alex's toe. She looked at it for a bit and then called me over to look. She showed me a red line that appeared to be going up Alex's toe. Anyone know what that means? Anyone?
BLOOD POISONING
But wait, it gets better. She listened to his lungs and was checking his radial pulses. She had him lay down and checked around the area where the waistband of his underwear sit. Remember, he'd been complaining of pain there over the weekend, but hadn't said anything about it hurting to me through the week. She calls me over. She shows me this rash he has going down the right side of his body (very fine rash, could barely even see it) and a rash that was right where his underwear waistband sits. Guess what THAT is a symptom of. Come on. Give up?
SCARLET FUCKING FEVER!!!
Are you kidding me?! Who even gets scarlet fever anymore? And to get that at the SAME TIME as the blood poisoning? WTF.
BTW, his lungs? Sound spectacular! So that's good. He's been on antibiotics since Wednesday and his toe is looking better and his rash is barely even noticable. So, at least he's getting better The doc ordered him to bed rest. HA! He's 5 and hyper!
I had to call his school and let them know what was going on. Since I have no idea when or where he got scarlet fever and he was EXTREMELY contaigous according to the doc, I had to let them know so they could notify the parents so they could check out thier kids. There are only 8 kids in his class. Wonder how long it'll take before they figure out which kid brought the plague to thier school. *snicker*
Other than that, not too much to report. Got my divorce papers in the mail on Wednesday so I am officially divorced. Matt can go get married to Danette and I can sit around not being married. ^_^ Honestlly, it's a relief just to finally have it over with. Now I don't have to be worried about random bullshit happening and not being able to do something about it. I don't have to sit back and wonder if I do something, if it'll piss Matt off enough to repeat some of the things he's done in the past... Ugh. It's all done and no point dwelling.
And, now that I have rattled on about my son's health freakishness, I will get back to my job. Until the next blathering session...
I picked Alex up from his dad's Sunday night after work. Matt said he was complaining of some pain in his abdomin where the waistband of his underwear sits. Matt had an infection this past summer and the pain began in the same area, so we were keeping an eye on it. Monday morning, Alex was complaining of foot pain and showed me a bump on his toe. I couldn't tell if it was a blister or a wart, but we washed it and put on a Spider-Man Band-Aid. That night, he was up all night puking. When he woke up on Tuesday morning, he was fine, so I sent him to school. Wednesday he went on a field trip to watch the Flint Generals. Then we headed out for his dr. appt.
This was a routine appt set up to check his lungs and make sure his breathing treatments were helping him. I'm an asshole and wound up getting there an hour early cuzz it didn't actually take as long as I thought it would. The appt was for 4PM. He played and we read books and watched Jimmy Neutron while we were waiting. I was hoping to get moved up to an earlier slot if it was available, but it wasn't. So, when 4 rolled around, I figured that we'd be going back to a room shortly. I couldn't have been more wrong. >_<>
We showed her Alex's toe. She looked at it for a bit and then called me over to look. She showed me a red line that appeared to be going up Alex's toe. Anyone know what that means? Anyone?
BLOOD POISONING
But wait, it gets better. She listened to his lungs and was checking his radial pulses. She had him lay down and checked around the area where the waistband of his underwear sit. Remember, he'd been complaining of pain there over the weekend, but hadn't said anything about it hurting to me through the week. She calls me over. She shows me this rash he has going down the right side of his body (very fine rash, could barely even see it) and a rash that was right where his underwear waistband sits. Guess what THAT is a symptom of. Come on. Give up?
SCARLET FUCKING FEVER!!!
Are you kidding me?! Who even gets scarlet fever anymore? And to get that at the SAME TIME as the blood poisoning? WTF.
BTW, his lungs? Sound spectacular! So that's good. He's been on antibiotics since Wednesday and his toe is looking better and his rash is barely even noticable. So, at least he's getting better The doc ordered him to bed rest. HA! He's 5 and hyper!
I had to call his school and let them know what was going on. Since I have no idea when or where he got scarlet fever and he was EXTREMELY contaigous according to the doc, I had to let them know so they could notify the parents so they could check out thier kids. There are only 8 kids in his class. Wonder how long it'll take before they figure out which kid brought the plague to thier school. *snicker*
Other than that, not too much to report. Got my divorce papers in the mail on Wednesday so I am officially divorced. Matt can go get married to Danette and I can sit around not being married. ^_^ Honestlly, it's a relief just to finally have it over with. Now I don't have to be worried about random bullshit happening and not being able to do something about it. I don't have to sit back and wonder if I do something, if it'll piss Matt off enough to repeat some of the things he's done in the past... Ugh. It's all done and no point dwelling.
And, now that I have rattled on about my son's health freakishness, I will get back to my job. Until the next blathering session...
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Random Thoughts...
So, it seems I was the one with PMS yesterday. Damned uterus.
Matt got his W-2 Friday as well. Yay! Now, if he would just call me back like NOW and tell me when the appointment is that he was supposed to set up yesterday, I will be happy.
I want a new cell phone. I want to buy it NOW. I want one that won't fall apart completely when it hits the ground. Nothing fancy, just durable.
I need new boots for work. these boots smell like dirty feet and ass.
ASS.
I wanna go out and have a date. Greg does not seem to understand. e tells me that I was just out on Wednesday. Yes, I was out on Wednesday, but that was for darts. And he didn't stay beyond the league part of the night. Bastard.
I want to not have finacial responsibilities anymore. Forever. Everything shall be free for Leslee and her people.
I need to start a cult. I want a following of people. That way, when I say, "my people", outsiders don't look at me and giggle like I'm insane. They will be scared cuzz they will know that I actually have "people" and they shouldn't fuck with me. Or my people.
I want to play Silent Hill again. NOW. I just saw the preview for the movie today, which comes out this spring by the way. I've decided I NEED to see this movie.
I want to see all the people I've not seen in a while. People from high school, people not from high school. You know, people. O_o
I need to lose weight. I've kinda let myself "go" or whatever. When I get my part of the tax refund, I'm gonna become a meth mommy. Or not. I'm leaning more toward the not due to the whole drug testing at work and not wanting my son to be a druggie, but we'll see which wins out. Feel free to create a pool for bets. Winner must split the pot with me.
I'm feeling extremely random today. And sarcastic. not enough coffee? Perhaps. PMS? Most likely.
I discovered a guilty pleasure of mine that I had forgotten about this morning. I love Phil Collins. And mechanics. Mhmm.
I also have this thing for nerds. There are not enough nerds in the world.
I think I'll read my paper now...
Matt got his W-2 Friday as well. Yay! Now, if he would just call me back like NOW and tell me when the appointment is that he was supposed to set up yesterday, I will be happy.
I want a new cell phone. I want to buy it NOW. I want one that won't fall apart completely when it hits the ground. Nothing fancy, just durable.
I need new boots for work. these boots smell like dirty feet and ass.
ASS.
I wanna go out and have a date. Greg does not seem to understand. e tells me that I was just out on Wednesday. Yes, I was out on Wednesday, but that was for darts. And he didn't stay beyond the league part of the night. Bastard.
I want to not have finacial responsibilities anymore. Forever. Everything shall be free for Leslee and her people.
I need to start a cult. I want a following of people. That way, when I say, "my people", outsiders don't look at me and giggle like I'm insane. They will be scared cuzz they will know that I actually have "people" and they shouldn't fuck with me. Or my people.
I want to play Silent Hill again. NOW. I just saw the preview for the movie today, which comes out this spring by the way. I've decided I NEED to see this movie.
I want to see all the people I've not seen in a while. People from high school, people not from high school. You know, people. O_o
I need to lose weight. I've kinda let myself "go" or whatever. When I get my part of the tax refund, I'm gonna become a meth mommy. Or not. I'm leaning more toward the not due to the whole drug testing at work and not wanting my son to be a druggie, but we'll see which wins out. Feel free to create a pool for bets. Winner must split the pot with me.
I'm feeling extremely random today. And sarcastic. not enough coffee? Perhaps. PMS? Most likely.
I discovered a guilty pleasure of mine that I had forgotten about this morning. I love Phil Collins. And mechanics. Mhmm.
I also have this thing for nerds. There are not enough nerds in the world.
I think I'll read my paper now...
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Sunday, January 08, 2006
I have decided that I may not be destined to drive a car. At least one that is reliable. In the past month, I have had 3 random things happen to the car my mother lent me that I have never heard of happening to other people. Check this out:
~ About a month ago, I'm driving to work. There's snow and the roads suck. They're slushy and slick, so I'm driving slow and I have the wipers on. I'm silently cussing out the wiper blade on the driver side for missing a ginormous spot directly in my line of vision. As I go through an intersection, I watch said wiper disappear. Not that odd? I'm not talking about merely the blade deciding to fly away on a whirl wind adventure. Oh no. The entire windshield wiper flew off the car. The blade and the arm. O_o
~ Just this past week, I was taking my son to school. I get there, take him to class and get back in the car. I back up and hear this metal on metal clanging sound. I look around at everything in my immediate view, particularly to my left, since that seemed to be where the sound was coming from. I don't see anything, so I figured I'd probably run over something. I continue on my way. I drive maybe a foot and the top of the driver side door drops. I pulled into a parking space and open the door to find that the pin had fallen out. The bottom one is still there, but the top one is lodged between the body of the car and the door itself. Ok, my mom warned me that might happen. I tried to get the pin, but it was reallyreallyreally stuck. I got a pen from my purse and tried to dislodge it. This sends it flying somewhere into the car body, never to be seen again. I drive home, holding my car door on.
~ I make Greg go to the car store while I'm at work on Friday. The pin itself only cost around $6, but I was beyond broke and had to wait till I got paid. He got the pin, but for some reason didn't think to try to put it in the door during the day. Heh. Ok. He came to pick me up from work and we went out for dinner. We get home and attempt to fix the door in the cold, cold Michigan night. I hold the flashlight. I'm guessing this is due to the Greg man and strong, Leslee girl and frail and weak mentality, but whatever. I was cold and didn't much care at that point, long as the door was fixed so I could get to work in the morning. After a few minutes of cussing and pounding, the pin is in. VICTORY! I start talking about how I'll rearrange the cars in the driveway before I leave for work the next morning when I notice the door is not staying closed. We are perplexed. The door is level now, everything should be good. Upon further investigation, the reason is discovered. You know where that part of the door is that latches and keeps it closed? Yeah... Maybe you can show me where the one for that door is cuzz it is completely gone. No idea how or why, it's just gone.
*facepalm*
Ugh. So I had to call my mommy at 1130 Friday night since the car gave me the big Fuck You. I asked if she could either take me to work or bring me oil for my actual car and help me open the hood, since opening it by popping the mechanism that keeps it locked and then manually opening it is not a luxury I've enjoyed for over a year. She says ok, asks when she needs to be there, laughs at me (Thanks mom) and then goes back to bed. At this point, I'm pissed off at the cars and I go to bed as well.
This brings us to Saturday. Keeping up?
I wake up a little later than I wanted, but with plenty of time to get my coffee going and not have to rush through my washing ritual. I'm a freak who hates the quiet, so I put my make up on in the living room with the TV on. Since I can't wear my contacts until I actually get ones that are not 2 week disposables going on year numeral 2, I listen to the news or other various things. I had the Today show on and I hear a story about 3 kids in turkey who died from the bird flu. I had just put my glasses on so I could find my foundation and looked up in time to see the 3 little graves. And the floodgates opened with a vengeance! Suddenly I was crying over everything. Those poor kids and their families, the miner in West Virginia who lived and those who didn't, the weather being fucked up. Yes, the weather made me cry. Can anyone say Hello Hormones? That's all I can come up with. So, I finally get myself calmed down and apply my face and finish getting ready for work. I'm having some coffee and a cigarette, thinking my mommy would be there at any moment to take me to work, when my phone rings. The display says Mommy-Home. Uh oh. It's my step-dad calling to let me know that she's on her way but the roads are horrible, so I might want to call and let my boss know I'm probably gonna be a little late. Ok. I call and tell him I shouldn't be more than a few minutes late. This is at 805. I stood in my living room, alternating between pacing and rocking back and forth from foot to foot, until 840. Shift change is at 9AM and it's at least a 45 minute drive. Yay. So, we're on our way and I'm thinking my mom is just being overly cautious. That is, until we actually hit the road. WOW. You could see the sheet of ice that covered the roads. I think her top speed was 30MPH. It was mildly entertaining to watch the big 4x4 trucks pass us all pissy-like, only to spin out just a bit up the road. What was really amusing was waving to them as we drove by. Heheh. I got to work 1/2 an hour late. My boss was surprisingly understanding. Since he doesn't drive, he can sometimes be an asshole when people are late due to road conditions. You can never leave too early, ya know. it took my mother over 2 1/2 hours to make a trip that should've maybe lasted 1 1/2 tops.
Get home last night and Greg and I put oil in Cassie, my for real car. We let her run a bit and she starts sounding like her old self instead of a diesel truck. Awesome. I go outside this morning before I get dressed to let her warm up. I get dressed, guard the headlight I got for Christmas and we're off. Everything is fine, though she is ticking when I accelerate and stalling when I stop. Could just be the battery needs charged up a bit since she hasn't really been driven in a month or so. I'm toolin along when a cop passes me in the opposite lane. Meh. I look in my rear view to see the cop pull a U-ey and then get up on my ass like I was running from a crime scene. Then, he waits. Like 5 minutes to pull me over. O_o He comes up to the window and I've got my license out already. He asks if I know that I don't have any headlight. I looked at him slightly confused and say that I had my parking lights on cuzz it wasn't that dark and if I can avoid drawing attention to the gaping hole in the front of my car, I will. He kinda chuckled and asked if I was gonna get it fixed anytime soon. I proudly held up my new headlight and said I was hoping it would be fixed when I was at work. He found that very comical and let me go on my merry way. I discovered on my drive to work, that everytime I need to stop, Cassie stalls. Toward the tail end of the trip, she was stalling out at 25MPH and just around the corner from work, it took me 3 tries to get her to stay started. She also ticks when I accelerate. I think my poor, poor Cassie may be getting ready to go to pretty green car Heaven.
So, that's been my weekend. I also found out that my ex-husband will essentially be getting a slap on the wrist from the ARMY. I guess his recruiter cousin was able to pull some strings. He'll be in Kentucky for 5 days and then back home, like nothing ever happened. He's getting his job back, so that's good when it comes to my son's medical insurance and child support. I'm not too sure how I feel about his. I mean, I'm glad that he's not gonna be spending forever in jail or whatever cuzz the boy really misses him, but I feel like it's a huge slap in the face to anyone in the military right now. Especially his family. His brother is in the AirForce. he has one cousin in Iraq and another who, last I heard, was gonna re-up and most likely get deployed to Iraq again. Yet, he was able to desert during war time and get off pretty much with nothing. Doesn't seem right.
My divorce will be final tomorrow, January 9. After being separated a year and a half, it'll finally be done. And just in time for my birthday on the 13th. The birthday celebration will also be a divorce party now. Awesome.
~ About a month ago, I'm driving to work. There's snow and the roads suck. They're slushy and slick, so I'm driving slow and I have the wipers on. I'm silently cussing out the wiper blade on the driver side for missing a ginormous spot directly in my line of vision. As I go through an intersection, I watch said wiper disappear. Not that odd? I'm not talking about merely the blade deciding to fly away on a whirl wind adventure. Oh no. The entire windshield wiper flew off the car. The blade and the arm. O_o
~ Just this past week, I was taking my son to school. I get there, take him to class and get back in the car. I back up and hear this metal on metal clanging sound. I look around at everything in my immediate view, particularly to my left, since that seemed to be where the sound was coming from. I don't see anything, so I figured I'd probably run over something. I continue on my way. I drive maybe a foot and the top of the driver side door drops. I pulled into a parking space and open the door to find that the pin had fallen out. The bottom one is still there, but the top one is lodged between the body of the car and the door itself. Ok, my mom warned me that might happen. I tried to get the pin, but it was reallyreallyreally stuck. I got a pen from my purse and tried to dislodge it. This sends it flying somewhere into the car body, never to be seen again. I drive home, holding my car door on.
~ I make Greg go to the car store while I'm at work on Friday. The pin itself only cost around $6, but I was beyond broke and had to wait till I got paid. He got the pin, but for some reason didn't think to try to put it in the door during the day. Heh. Ok. He came to pick me up from work and we went out for dinner. We get home and attempt to fix the door in the cold, cold Michigan night. I hold the flashlight. I'm guessing this is due to the Greg man and strong, Leslee girl and frail and weak mentality, but whatever. I was cold and didn't much care at that point, long as the door was fixed so I could get to work in the morning. After a few minutes of cussing and pounding, the pin is in. VICTORY! I start talking about how I'll rearrange the cars in the driveway before I leave for work the next morning when I notice the door is not staying closed. We are perplexed. The door is level now, everything should be good. Upon further investigation, the reason is discovered. You know where that part of the door is that latches and keeps it closed? Yeah... Maybe you can show me where the one for that door is cuzz it is completely gone. No idea how or why, it's just gone.
*facepalm*
Ugh. So I had to call my mommy at 1130 Friday night since the car gave me the big Fuck You. I asked if she could either take me to work or bring me oil for my actual car and help me open the hood, since opening it by popping the mechanism that keeps it locked and then manually opening it is not a luxury I've enjoyed for over a year. She says ok, asks when she needs to be there, laughs at me (Thanks mom) and then goes back to bed. At this point, I'm pissed off at the cars and I go to bed as well.
This brings us to Saturday. Keeping up?
I wake up a little later than I wanted, but with plenty of time to get my coffee going and not have to rush through my washing ritual. I'm a freak who hates the quiet, so I put my make up on in the living room with the TV on. Since I can't wear my contacts until I actually get ones that are not 2 week disposables going on year numeral 2, I listen to the news or other various things. I had the Today show on and I hear a story about 3 kids in turkey who died from the bird flu. I had just put my glasses on so I could find my foundation and looked up in time to see the 3 little graves. And the floodgates opened with a vengeance! Suddenly I was crying over everything. Those poor kids and their families, the miner in West Virginia who lived and those who didn't, the weather being fucked up. Yes, the weather made me cry. Can anyone say Hello Hormones? That's all I can come up with. So, I finally get myself calmed down and apply my face and finish getting ready for work. I'm having some coffee and a cigarette, thinking my mommy would be there at any moment to take me to work, when my phone rings. The display says Mommy-Home. Uh oh. It's my step-dad calling to let me know that she's on her way but the roads are horrible, so I might want to call and let my boss know I'm probably gonna be a little late. Ok. I call and tell him I shouldn't be more than a few minutes late. This is at 805. I stood in my living room, alternating between pacing and rocking back and forth from foot to foot, until 840. Shift change is at 9AM and it's at least a 45 minute drive. Yay. So, we're on our way and I'm thinking my mom is just being overly cautious. That is, until we actually hit the road. WOW. You could see the sheet of ice that covered the roads. I think her top speed was 30MPH. It was mildly entertaining to watch the big 4x4 trucks pass us all pissy-like, only to spin out just a bit up the road. What was really amusing was waving to them as we drove by. Heheh. I got to work 1/2 an hour late. My boss was surprisingly understanding. Since he doesn't drive, he can sometimes be an asshole when people are late due to road conditions. You can never leave too early, ya know. it took my mother over 2 1/2 hours to make a trip that should've maybe lasted 1 1/2 tops.
Get home last night and Greg and I put oil in Cassie, my for real car. We let her run a bit and she starts sounding like her old self instead of a diesel truck. Awesome. I go outside this morning before I get dressed to let her warm up. I get dressed, guard the headlight I got for Christmas and we're off. Everything is fine, though she is ticking when I accelerate and stalling when I stop. Could just be the battery needs charged up a bit since she hasn't really been driven in a month or so. I'm toolin along when a cop passes me in the opposite lane. Meh. I look in my rear view to see the cop pull a U-ey and then get up on my ass like I was running from a crime scene. Then, he waits. Like 5 minutes to pull me over. O_o He comes up to the window and I've got my license out already. He asks if I know that I don't have any headlight. I looked at him slightly confused and say that I had my parking lights on cuzz it wasn't that dark and if I can avoid drawing attention to the gaping hole in the front of my car, I will. He kinda chuckled and asked if I was gonna get it fixed anytime soon. I proudly held up my new headlight and said I was hoping it would be fixed when I was at work. He found that very comical and let me go on my merry way. I discovered on my drive to work, that everytime I need to stop, Cassie stalls. Toward the tail end of the trip, she was stalling out at 25MPH and just around the corner from work, it took me 3 tries to get her to stay started. She also ticks when I accelerate. I think my poor, poor Cassie may be getting ready to go to pretty green car Heaven.
So, that's been my weekend. I also found out that my ex-husband will essentially be getting a slap on the wrist from the ARMY. I guess his recruiter cousin was able to pull some strings. He'll be in Kentucky for 5 days and then back home, like nothing ever happened. He's getting his job back, so that's good when it comes to my son's medical insurance and child support. I'm not too sure how I feel about his. I mean, I'm glad that he's not gonna be spending forever in jail or whatever cuzz the boy really misses him, but I feel like it's a huge slap in the face to anyone in the military right now. Especially his family. His brother is in the AirForce. he has one cousin in Iraq and another who, last I heard, was gonna re-up and most likely get deployed to Iraq again. Yet, he was able to desert during war time and get off pretty much with nothing. Doesn't seem right.
My divorce will be final tomorrow, January 9. After being separated a year and a half, it'll finally be done. And just in time for my birthday on the 13th. The birthday celebration will also be a divorce party now. Awesome.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
So, another year is upon us. Nothing spectacular has happened as of yet. I'm hoping somewhere along the lines that it does. Maybe this will be the year I get back to my pre-pregnancy weight. Maybe this will be the year that I can be somewhat finacially stable. Maybe this will be the year that I get over my stupid anxieties and venture out a bit more. Maybe this will be the year that I get over things that pick away at who I am.I've been sitting her thinking this morning. No particular reason why. Guess I'm just in a mood to reflect on myself and my life. Or maybe I've just decided to be emo/hormonal on the first day of the new year. Meh. Whatever the case, I've been thinking about random points in my life and wondering if I'll repeat the same patterns this year or if I'll create new ones. I'm not making any resolutions. I'll just set myself up for disappointment if I do. I usually make resolutions and keep them to myself. That way, if I don't keep them, other people won't be disappointed in me as well. But this year, resolutions can kiss my ass. I don't want to look back at 2006 and wonder why I didn't accomplish the things I wanted to when I had an entire year to get off my fat ass and do something. I know damned near everyone who makes resolutions never actually follow through with them, but I notice I will get to a point during the year where I will beat myself up mentally for "failing" to achieve something I said I would do. I've also noticed that if I tell myself that I will do something different in whatever year, I will sabotage myself. I'm not sure why I do that. Kinda pisses me off really. Like I set goals that are not exactly attainable just to see if I will actually try and then get down on myself when I don't. Defense mechanism? Perhaps. The masochist in me coming out? More than likely. A big pattern I've noticed over the last year, is that my life is almost the same that my mother led when she was my age. Almost. When my mom was 25, she was married to my step-father, working in the medical field and had a 5 year old. She had to be on state aide. The differences? She also had my brother to deal with (birth defects or whatever). That's pretty much the only difference. Oh, she wasn't divorced/divorcing cuzz she had never married my father. I have a 5 year old. I'm having to get back on state aide. I work in the medical field. She had just signed a modeling contract with Kodak (not big--time I know, but this was 1980 and big for the time and area she lived in) when she found out she was pregnant with me. She had dreams of being in the limelight. I was no where near becoming famous or anything like that when I found out I was pregnant, but I was heavily involved with my community theater group. I had to put that on hold and eventually give it up all together to be a responsible adult. Ugh. My step-father was a drinker. Greg is a drinker. The difference there is that Greg isn't a mean drunk. There's been 1 instance of him being drunk and being a complete asshole. Then again, Tony wasn't always a mean drunk, either. I keep telling Greg I will not allow Alex to go through what I did as a child. Sometimes, I really don't think he gets what I'm saying. I tell him about the shit I went through and I can tell he doesn't like to hear it and that it upsets him. But beyond that, I don't think he grasps the seriousness. Yesterday we got into an argument about him being an asshole out of nowhere. When he's tired, he is a complete bitch. Usually, he goes into the bedroom and tried to sleep or at least just get away from everyone for a bit. Yesterday, he woke up and started texting me, being a complete dick. Something about how he had just called off work so he could make me happy. Yes, I wanted to go out. But I didn't press him on it. I knew he had to work the next day. Not once did I ask him to call in. Not once did I act pissed off about it to him. Yet somewhere along the way, he decided that I was pissed and that if we didn't go, I was going to be a cold bitch towards him. He was outright mean. And I remembered when Tony started getting mean. Eventually, everything was worked out and things were fine. He realized he was being a dick and stopped. We started talking about how when he gets pissed off over something, he shuts up. He won't talk about things. When people do that, I get pissed. To me, if you can't sit there and talk, hell yell, than there is no communication. Nothing ever gets settled or corrected if people can't express what it is that is either bothering them or pissing them off, ya know? I mentioned that he was reminding me of when he would tell me about how his parents fight and his mom threatens divorce. Seems this is a yearly event. Anyway, he recognized that he acts just like his dad, he doesn't communicate when there's any kind of confrontation. I asked if he saw why his mother would get upset enough to threaten to leave. He kept saying that it was only threats and how she never would. At that point, I took it upon myself to point out the obvious and say that I am not his mother. He said, "no, you certainly are not." He left to go get more stuff to roll his cigarettes with after that. (this was all online) I'm not sure if that sunk in or his mood just improved cuzz he was fine after that. We had a pretty good night, actually. Lately, I've been sitting back and kind of removing myself from things and just looking in from the outside. Well, as much as I can anyway. It disturbs me that I'm noticing all these same things in my life that I saw happening to my mother when I was growing up. I'm trying to figure out if there's a way to change repeating the same things. I know I can, but I want to do it without people getting hurt. I don't know. Stupid reflection...So, yeah, we did get out to Bobbi's last night. Greg and I had a good time. We threw some sticks at the wall and drank some beer. I thought Greg would drink more than he did, but oops? Hehe. If you want, Bobbi, I'll pay for that 12 pack when I get paid on Friday. I feel bad cuzz you guys went to the trouble of making sure there'd be beer he would drink. Did Motley Crue ever actually play? LOL That was worthless footage of all those random roadies. And really, why show the catering staff? I wanted to see some Carnival of SIN dammit! ^_^ Bobbi's cat, Princess, or El Gato of DOOM, could smell my fear last night. She was trying to get into my purse when we first got there and since I have been trying pick her up and pet her since last year, I took my opportunity. I caught her and put her in my lap! She as not amused. Not at ALL. O_o There was growling. There were claws. And then there was her flying off my lap by some kitty magical flying technique. After that, she kept getting closer and closer to me. At one point, she put her paw on my leg. I think she thought it was a good idea to keep me in check. Let me know that NO ONE but Bobbi can hold El Gato of DOOM. Then Greg became Kitty Tamer, as all 3 flocked to him to play. Bastard. Kitties always want to be around him. We left at like 1230 and were in bed by 1AM. HAHA! I'm old and responsible and was tired and knew I had to get up in the morning. And I had to eat a shit ton of Tums when I got home, too. Fucking heartburn. BAH!So, here's to 2006. A year of no resolutions. A year of trying to not walk the same road as my mother. And a year of hoping I can wash the stench of fear off me before meeting El Gato of DOOM again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
