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?

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...

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....

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...

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...

So, I've signed up foor this blogline thing. I dunno... It seems way more simple to just mark the blogs I read in my favorites list and go from there. I can't get the thing to recognize my own blog address! O_o So, so confused. I am beginning to believe that all things technological hate me. LOL

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.

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.

Merry Christmas?

So, things went rather well with the holiday. Aside from the boy not remembering he had opened his presents when we got home from the family party on Christmas Eve, anyway. LOL Poor kid. I woke him up on Christmas morning cuzz I had to go to work and he came out into the living room. He looked around all confused and said that he thought Santa was supposed to have come. I told him he had visited before we got home (round midnight or so) and that he had opened his presents last night. I asked if he remembered and he looked at all the toys and wrapping paper on the floor and said no, with tears in his eyes. Then he saw all the dinosaurs and was happy again. Aw.

I guess I should say things were good up to a point. About 1130 last night, my phone rang. I'm not feeling the greatest, so I had taken some NyQuill and was out by 10PM, so when my phone rang, I was confused. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was baby daddy's number. So, I answered, thinking there was something wrong with the boy. It was baby daddy's fiance. O_o I guess he had gone out for coffee and been pulled over or something cuzz he wound up getting arrested. On a felony warrant from Kentucky from teh ARMY! Since we were supposed to be stationed in Kentucky once he had finished AIT and he didn't get that far, I can only assume that he's AWOL. *facepalm* Wonderful. We were supposed to be going to court on Jan 9th to present the final paperwork. According to baby daddy's fiance, though, they were sending the boys up to get him last night and take him to Kentucky. This in mind, I doubt he'll be showing up to court. I'm gonna call the lawyer when I get home from work today and see what happens if he can't go. This also means that child support will be stopped and he's most likely going to lose his job, so buuh-bye child's medical insurance. Couldn't have had to kiss that good-bye at a better time. >_<>

Well, Christmas is upon us once again. And whether you celebrate Christmas, Kwanza or whatever, the holiday season is here for everyone and I hope that everyone has a joyous time.

That being said, I am excited to get out of work. Only an hour to go and then it's off to my Aunt Kim's to actually participate in the holiday festivities. Last year, I didn't get to do anything cuzz, as I am this year, I was working. The difference this year is that my son will be there as well. So, everyone has decided to wait for me and do a late Christmas thing since I get out of work at 9PM. Greg will be calling at some point during things to tell the boy that he woke up to go to the bathroom or something and that Santa has already been to the house. That way we can open presents together without getting him up at the asscrack of early. I mean, he's 5, so he'll be up early anyway, but in order to open presents together, we'd have to wake him up at 4AM since Greg and I both work tomorrow. O_o Not too happy about working the holiday again, but it's just the way the holiday fell. I work Friday - Sunday for 12 hrs each day and then part of the day on Mondays. My mantra has been time and a half, time and a half.

After I drop him off at baby daddy's tomorrow morning, I won't see him again till Thursday. I told his great-grandparents they could keep him for a couple days over his Christmas vacation and his Uncle is home from the Air Force for a bit. He'll have fun. I just hope the grandparents can handle the nebulizer.

So, the boy has been diagnosed asthmatic. I am so excited about that. O_o ugh. He's been handling it really well, though. He has to have a minimum of 3 breathing treatments a day and is on Albuterol and Pregnazone. Of all the things I could have passed on to him, he gets my health problems. *sigh* At least he's a boy and won't inherit all the random girly problems that I have.

Bleh. Not too much else is going on really. Think I'll wander off to myspace for the next 15 minutes or so. I can't seem to come up with anything else to write.

Oh my lord, I am so pissed off right now. Ok, maybe not so much pissed as extremely frustrated. A little background:

My son has allergies. Ok, most kids do. Except my son seems to never have an allergy free season. He's allergic to grass, dust mites, some form of pollen, cats and cigarette smoke. Ok. We have 3 cats. He's not really bothered by them. Sure, he gets stuffy every now and again, but nothing like the way he is when he comes home from his dad's. My son goes to his dad's Friday night through Sunday night, when I pick him up after I get out of work. Every time, literally every time I pick him up, he's sick. I'm guessing that is due to the fact that his dad doesn't make people smoke outside like I do. My son is not exposed to smoke when he's with me or his grand parents. His dad claims to have quit smoking, though I have my doubts since he was workin on a 2 1/2 pack a day habit when we split, but he very well may have. Dad's new fiance, however, smokes like a chimney, as does her little brother. I think the little brother may be living with them as well, but I'm not sure. Anyway, my son's dad claims that no one smokes inside anymore, but just last weekend, my ex mother-in-law went to pick my son up for church and the place was full of smoke and there sat the fiances brother, smoking away like it was no big deal. Hmm.. Looks like there's people smoking inside, but maybe I'm confusing the living room FOR THE PORCH.

So, to sum it up, my son comes home sick every Sunday night and last night was no exception. This time, however, it had nothing to do with his coughing or his throat, but rather his stomach. Seems just before I got there, the boy decided it would be fun to projectile vomit in front of the door. O_o His dad tells me and makes a nifty little comment about how he doesn't understand why it's been so difficult for me to change the boy's doctor. Um, excuse me? Number 1, I don't hold the insurance policy. Number 2, while I said I wasn't opposed to switching doctors, HE is the one who is hell bent on it. Given those 2 reasons right there, I was under the impression that he was going to make some calls and get back to me with the info he had gathered. Looks like I set the bar too high on that one. I look at him with my You're such an asshole look and we leave. The boy tells me on the way home that dear daddy made him finish puking outside. In 15 degree weather. WTF. He couldn't get him to the toilet so why not just throw him outside?! I swear, sometimes I wonder why I allowed this man to have sex with me.

So, I take the boy to his gramma's today and he pukes in the car on the way there. Thankfully I thought ahead and brought a puke bag and he made it in the bag! I felt guilty as hell for having to take him there and not staying home with him, but I have no sick time left and I missed the last 2 Mondays due to him being sick. So, I drop him and his puke bag off and walk into the shit storm that is EMS. I'm working away, reading random things while waiting for my crews to get to where they're goin and what not when baby daddy calls. Seems he finally took some iniciative and got the boy a doctor's appt with a pediatrician. Ok, it's the fiance's kids doctor, but whatever. He then asks if I can get out of work early to take him or if he has to. I asked when the appt was and he says 3. I get out at 2. I asked where. He tells me Owosso. Ugh. This means I have to travel a 1/2 hour to get him from gramma's and then drive an additional hour to get him to this doctor. No way in hell we'll be there on time. So, he says he'll have fiance call and say we'll be late. He then proceeds to tell me that fiance told the doctor what was going on and that he wanted to see the boy immediately. This confuses me as he seems to have the flu as opposed to the other times he comes home and sounds like he needs a lung transplant. This is when baby daddy decides to tell me that it's been his stomach that he's been concerned about all along. *facepalm* Are you fucking serious? The doctor he normally sees asked me last week if he has ever had to use an inhaler cuzz he's wheezing and NOW I'm being told that it's all been about his stomach?! I think he waited to tell me that while I was working cuzz he knows I can't scream at him. I did it once when we were first separated and though my bosses completely understood why, I was told that I need to keep my temper in check at work and that I needed to remember why I've been banned from watching sports while I'm working. (Seems I got a teeny bit loud watching the Red Wings and a walk in patient heard me screaming outside.) From that point on, whenever baby daddy wanted to start shit, they have made me go into a different room or out to my car. Today though, all the bosses are out sick and I have no where to go to yell. I told baby daddy that the normal doctor was concerned about the boy's lungs and that I had no idea about his stomach cuzz when he's with me after like a day, he's perfectly fine. Baby daddy then tried to place the blame on HIS mom as to why I didn't know about that. *sigh* Why the hell was I moronic enough when I was younger to allow this man to go all the way?!

So, there's my rant. I tell you what, if the boy comes home sick again this weekend, baby daddy is gonna have his visitation revoked. Though, since it's Christmas this weekend and I get the boy Christmas Eve after I get out of work at 9PM and Christmas Day before I have to be back at work at 9AM, he'll prolly not get sick. But, we'll see...

Whoa. 2 entries in 1 day?!

About a week or so ago, there was a pretty bad car accident out near a town called Byron. A little boy, named Dawson was killed as a result. I was in a relatively good mood until I came across that in the paper. I mean, I didn't know him or his family (that I know of at least) and I knew he didn't survive, but it still just breaks my heart. That poor little baby. I know more about the details than I care to divulge for personal and professional reasons and I think that may have me a bit more choked up than normal, though I get choked up when I read the obituaries and come across one for a child anyway. Hell, I was going through the obits once in Junior High and I came across a memorial poem for a child. I still have it in my purse to this day. His name was Houston Michael Griffin. I didn't know him or his family either, but that poem just ripped out my heart. He was just shy of 2 months old when he passedon October 20, 1994. Here is the poem, since I'm like that and all.

The Red Headed Angel

The memories stand still of that cool fall day
Seems like yesterday
So small and helpless you struggled to hold on
Your pain revealed through those tiny blue eyes
Only God could heal your pain
We tried hard not to be selfish
For we knew your time was near
If love alone could have saved you
You never would have died
But the Lord had bigger plans for you
When you left us you took a piece of our hearts
I try to remember what Daddy said
"God gave us two because he was taking one away"
Please watch over Mommy and Daddy from above
For they grieve deeply
Hopefully your mommy and Daddy will heal one day
They are wonderful people
And one day
We will meet again
And I will take you into my arms
And kiss you all over

Love and Kisses and a big truck from Hunter

Reading that again, I'm not sure if it was a poem or a note written from a child to the brother he barely knew, but it still makes me cry.

I also came across this little excerpt I cut off of The Detroit News the same day, if memory serves. I was reading a story about an accident and this part just stuck with me.

Jolliffie died two blocks from her red and white brick home on Junction at about the same time her daughter, DarQuisia Eubanks, 3, bolted upright in bed, saying, "I want my mommy", said Elerson, who was baby-sitting for the child at the time of the crash.
"That will stay with me forever," she said.

It probably makes me look psycho by admitting that I kept these things about people I didn't even know, but oh well. I'm not sure why I carry these around with me. Hell, I'm surprised I haven't lost them actually. I've had these for round about 11 years now and they're in neat perfect condition. They've been kept in countless purses and read and reread I don't know how many times. I'm gonna have to perform home lamination on them soon I think.

Sorry if I bummed anyone out. I just really felt an urge to post those things.

Tales from the PCOS files

I tell ya, I have come to loathe being female when it comes to the reproductive system. I'm sure this will delve into the TMI category for most anyone who comes across this, but bear with me. I need to do some bitching. For those who fear words like period, ovaries and PMS, you've been warned and may go about your business.

Seems the period fairy likes to fuck with my head. After going on an, oh let's see now, 2 month hiatus, the fairy has deemed it fit to make an appearance. Mind you, it's unlike her other appearances. There is no flood gates. No, Holy shit what did I do to make my uterus hate me?! exclamations. Merely a tease. A clever rouse if you will. Will you finally have a period this month? Maybe. Maybe not. I think I'm more disturbed by the fact that I know PCOS can stop menstruation and that seems to finally be happening after years of telling the multitude of doctors to just rip out my girly parts and let me have peace. Or maybe it's the fact that for the last 2 months I've taken over 10 pregnancy tests and have not once received a positive result. See, I never wanted to have children. Not that I would give my son back if someone paid me shit tons of money to do so, but I just was not the mommy type. I wanted to be a STAR! In order to do that and be successful at it, that meant no babies until much later in life, if ever. Well, that whole idea went to shit when I was just turning 20. And I'm not complaining, I love my son more than I ever thought I could love another human being, I'm just explaining my whole mentality about my being a mother. When Alex was about 1 1/2, I began having these incredible pains in the lower part of my abdomen. When Alex was 4, I was finally diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary syndrome. Since my son was born, I would have a period as short as 3 days or as long as 15. Most of the time, the break in between would only last about 2 - 3 days. I would complain to my doctors about going through approx. 120 Super Playtex tampons and roughly 50 Stayfree maxis. My flows were so strong that I would often bleed through BOTH tampon and maxi in about an hour. (Not something I recommend if you're not feeling girly enough, by the way) Along with that, I would have horrible cramps. So, after the diagnosis, they tried to put me on birth control to even things out and while that did help somewhat, it also caused me to loose my hair and develop terrible cramps in my legs that would actually leave bruises. That caused the doctors to worry about blood clots, so that was discontinued. I was also put on Glocophage, which is a common treatment, but also something that made me incredibly ill. See, it's also used as a medication for diabetics. I am not diabetic, which is probably why it caused me to get ill. When I told the specialist I was seeing that I refused to take it cuzz I wasn't able to care for my son properly, she refused to see me again. Heh. Then I lost the Medicaid that I had cuzz at $7.50 an hour, I was making too much money. Mind you, I could barely pay my bills with what I brought home, but go ahead and take away the Medicaid that kept me in the inhalers I need to use so I can breathe and kept paying for the multitude of doctor''s appts I had to have. So, I had to stop going to the doctor and I haven't been back for about a year now. And everything kept going on as normal until October. Then... Nothing. And, while I can't afford another child and I'm still not officially divorced, I kinda liked the thought of another baby around. Alex has been asking for a brother or sister and I miss babies dammit! Now that this is happening, I'm afraid that I may not be able to have more babies. PCOS leads to incredible difficulty in getting pregnant, most often leaving the woman barren. And while I am very thankful for the son I do have, I don't think I want him to be an only child. I dunno...

This has just been something that's been on my mind a lot for the past couple weeks and I needed to get it out somewhere. Not many people who know me know of this blog, so I guess this is where I chose to dump. Again, prolly in the TMI category for pretty much everyone, but oh well. You were warned.

My blog sucks

Whoops! I hit enter instead of tab and it published....

And there was nothing.

Good thing I figured out how to edit! Whoo! Leslee is teh smart!

*ahem*

Now that I have made an ass out of myself, maybe I should get on to an actual entry.

I've noticed that my blog isn't read all that often. And ya know what? That doesn't really bother me. I mean, on DeadJournal and MySpace, I get kinda disappointed if I don't get any comments on an entry I make. Here? Not so much. I feel free to write things here that I don't in those other places. That may simply be due to the fact that I don't think any of my friends know about this thing, though it wouldn't be hard for them to find I assume. After all,brite69 is little internet persona or something. Hell, even people I know in the actual 3-D world people call me Brite! But I think it's the fact that I feel like I can ramble on about random shit and feelings and the whole 9 yards, and I don't have to worry that someone may misconstrue something I write or that someone will go tell someone else that I wrote something about them and then take it completely out of context. I don't know. I just know that I like it.

ok, enough rambling I suppose. I shall up date again when I have something of substance to post about.

Ah yes, I almost forgot...

The Halloween pictures

The quality on them isn't all that great. The batteries were dying in the camera, but you get the point. A ot are of the band. Enjoy!

So, last night was the night of many Halloween parties. Everyone is an asshole for scheduling the things on the same night, just so you know.

My head still has a dull ache. My left eye has decided to become a bit swollen. Fucking eyeballs not being made to withstand mascara wands stabbing them, or whatever the fuck I did to manage scratching my eye this time. I may actually be able to seek medical treatment about it though! When I got home from work on Friday, there was a pretty, pretty envelope with the return address of McLaren Health Plan. My first reaction was something along the lines of, "WTF?! I didn't know you could bill people for going to every hospital but yours." then I sat there for a minute, realized that that is probably not legal, and decided to open the envelope. Inside was a shiny new MEDICAL INSURANCE CARD!!! Upon reading that and the not-quite-so-pretty letter from the FIA, I learned that I have somehow become magically eligible for Medicaid again. I say magically cuzz I was told I made too much money to be able to recieve benefits before I got the raise that doesn't seem like it's there. I'm a tad confused as to how I have medical coverage again, so I'm going to call up there on Monday and figure out wtf is going on. It'd be nice to have the insurance so that maybe, just maybe, I can start going back to the doctor about the PCOS bullshit. I tell ya, sometimes, I wish I had been born a man. Then maybe I wouldn't have to deal with this kind of crap/ Ugh. But that's bitching for a rainy day.

Moving on...

Becky and I went to my company Halloween party for about an hour. In the time we were there, I had 3 cups of beer and 4 Jell-O shits. STRONG ass Jell-O shots. I had a pretty good buzz going on by the time Becky looked at me and commanded me to finish my beer so we could go to the Machine Shop. I complied, peed real quick like and we were on our way.

Got to The Machine Shop and amused Kevin Zink, annoyed Tony LaBrie a bit, and looked for Becky's ex, Del, who had apparently called her. I guess she agreed to go up there for some reason, I'm not remembering what it was at the moment. Seems he also asked her to go out and do something sometime. O_o But, I'm getting off topic. Long story short, Del wasn't there, so we left and headed out to The SHIT SHACK OF DOOM!!!! to watch From This Day Foreword

We get parked and all and walk in and immeadiately see the band. Becky begins our introduction.

Becky~ I am Capt. Obvious!
Me~ She is Capt. Obvious!
Becky~ And this is my trustee sidekick, Ranger Redundant!
Me~ I am indeed her trustee sidekick, Ranger Redundant.

See why Tony would be annoyed?

At one point as the night progressed, I realized that I needed to pee. the only place I had available? That's right folks! The Plastic Shit Shack of DOOM!!! Ugh. They moved it onto the big porch(?) thing next to a wall, so my only fears were snakes, the leech monster thing from The X-Files that lived in a Plastiic Shit Shackk of Doom, and random druck people deciding it might be funny to push it off the porch(?) since there was no longer a way to shake it back and forth. None of thast happened, but I was mildly disturbed when I walked in and noticed that it hadnt been emptied since, most likely, the first trip I made to the Plastic Shit Shack of DOOM!!!! (Look at my earlier blogs for the dat, I'm too lazy to do that for you) I'm serious when I say that there was used, urine soaked toliet paper alomst to the rim of the plastic molded seat. I have never been more happy to have figured out how to perch without toughing ass to seat in my entire life. Ew.

I left around 2AM. The second 2AM. Which was really 3AM. Or something.

Becky stayed out till round 4AM. I caught a ride with Jeff, the roommate from the apartment of happiness. I walked in the door, threw my shit on the couch and went to bed, where I guess I talked to Greg for a half an hour. I'm not sure what I said, but seems I was rambling on non-stop. I'm gonna have to figure out what the hell I said...

Pictures to come, though very begrudgingly. I have decided that the people who make my work uniforms are the devil, along with Boonesfarm and the people who created that damned "Whoo-hoo! Whoo-hoo-hoo! Whoo-hoo! Whoo-hoo-hoo!" song that wqas in Kill Bill and is now in every fucking commercial I ever hear. I swear to crap I look like I weigh 500 fucking lbs. You'll see when I post the pictures. That probably won't be until next weekend, though. All I have to say is EW.
And, for your giggling enjoyment, I present to you The drama I caused in the bad_sex comm on LJ

Damn. I suck.

Wow. I don't remember when I was on here last. I actually forgot I had it! I happened to be reading some random blogs I have saved in my favorites thingie on my computer and thought to myself, "Hey, that would kick ass if I could comment." Then I remembered I had this and had to figure out my password cuzz I'm ultra smooth and had forgotten it. At any rate, I'm back and hopefully will be updating this more often.

Let's see... Alex is back in school. He was tested at the beginning of the year to see if he'd be placed in Kindergarten or Junior Kindergarten. His grandma (my ex-mother-in-law) was hoping for Jr. Kindergarten and I was all for normal Kindergarten cuzz I know the boy is more than ready for it. So, he and I went in for his testing and then got his haircut. (They were offering haircuts to raise money for the school. He actually got a VERY nice hair cut!) by the time we were done with the haircut, his teacher was ready to tell me his scores. She told me that she thought we had all come to the same conclusion. I'm thinking, "All?" but didn't say anything. They decided he wasn't ready for normal kindergarten wasn't pleased, but I figured I'd give it a go. Maybe he really wasn't and I was being the typical My-Son-Is-teh-Smartz!!!1!1! Mom. I think I was right in thinking he was ready. He's telling me he's too bored to go to school. WHAT?!?! He's 5 years old! I've been trying to get a meeting with his teacher for about 3 weeks now, to no avail. I understand she's busy, but if she can't make time to see me soon, I'm just gonna go ahead and call the Grand Blanc school district and see if they'll evaluate him. If they will and they agree with me, then I'll pull him out of the private school and they can refund my ex-mother-in-law half the money she paid for tuition. I told the ex-husband and he got all uppity, saying, "You know how I feel about that." Sorry, but if it'll be better for Alex, it's gonna happen, regardless of whether or not he has an issue with the school district.

What else... Still at the same job. Going to the company Halloween party tonight for a bit. That should be pretty fun, I think. My roommate and I are going as a duo. She's Capt. Obvious and I am her trusty sidekick, Ranger Redundant. hehehe. I've been practicing saying the same things as people, but differently all day in preparation. I'm borrowing Greg digital camera tonight, so I should have pictures soon.

Not too much else is happening really. Becky's gonna be moving out in a couple weeks, so I have to really crunch some numbers and figure out a budget I can stick to. I have to remember to get the tickets to the COLD concert at The Machine Shop that we're all seeing for her birthday. Um... Darts has started back up. We're still the last place team in the league, but I'm not the last place player anymore! Close, but not quite. LOL

I guess that's it for now. Maybe some random pictures from the last few months to make it interesting...

Or, maybe not. Let me dick around with this a bit more and see if I can figure out how to post pictures with out taking up a bunch of space. I saw that I had a comment to the entry I made forever ago, so if Brock is still reading, I don't want to overwhelm his screen with pictures.

Almost 3 months since I updated this...

Awesome. So, obviously, this will be updated randomly. You will deal with it and you will love it!

Hmm.... What's new. Well, my cat came back. Harley, the cat that I've had since I was 14. The cat that ran off sometime in December. Yeah. She came back near the end of January. It was funny. I had just started seeing Greg. He brought me home one night and as I got out of the car, I heard this familiar meow. I looked at him and said that was my cat, I went to the neighbor's yard where I heard the meow come from. The cat I saw ran under the neighbor's place. So, Greg and I went inside cuzz I had to pee. I was kinda drunk and anyone will agree that women piss ALL the time when they're drinking. So, I pee and start getting my shoes back on so I can go out looking for her. Greg started to get his shoes on, too, which threw me. I'm not used to guys doing things for me. Well, we opened the door and who was on my porch? Yep. Fucking Harley. So, I brought her in, cried over her a bit and blahblahblah. Had to come up with a story to tell my kid about why Harley was back from heaven. O_o

So, yeah. I'm sure you're thinking. Greg. WTF happened to Japheth? Well, not too long after I made the post about saying I was done waiting around, I heard from him. I think it had been about 2 weeks. I was seeing more of Greg and happened to have him over when Japheth called. He had finished the CD and wanted to know if I wanted to hear it. I said not that night, I was tired and wanted to get to bed. Which was true. He sounded pretty surprised, but got off the phone. I didn't hear from him again for another 2 weeks. He left a message saying something about how he was sure I didn't care, but some radio station in Ohio was talking about his band. Tried to make me feel incredible guilty. Well, by this time I was seeing more and more of Greg. I mean, shit. I heard from him by PHONE 2 times in a month. Hadn't seen him at all. Yes. Recording is very time consuming from what I understand. However, picking up a phone to just say, Hey...This is going on but I haven't fallen off the edge of the Earth is not too much to ask I don't think. Every couple of days or something, ya know? Well, I was talking to my friend Brook and she said that they had talked on AIM and he said he was pissed off cuzz I had "blown him off". Excuse me? I blew YOU off? Oh no mother fucker. What the fuck do you think you'd ben doing to me for the majority of whatever the fuck we were to each other? You barely called, you barely came over.... What did he think I was gonna do? Sit there and wait? Sorry. I'm not that type. I sat around longer than I should have probably and I know I felt more for him than he felt for me. At any rate, that is what happened with japheth. Kinda sucks cuzz I liked the kid. I think we could be really kick ass friends. I don't think he'll let me be his friend and I'm too chicken shit to call and see how he is.

So. Greg. He's 25, works in Pontiac doing security, treats me better than I've ever been treated, Becky likes him and, most importantly, Alex likes him. The only thing that I see being a problem is that he drinks a bit much. I've made it known that if that doesn't change somewhat, I WILL put him to the curb. I can't take a chance that he'll wind up like my step-dad. I don't want Alex to go through anything like I did growing up and I will do everything in my power to make sure he doesn't. I think this one is a keeper though. We'll see what the future holds, I suppose.

Ok, I think that's enough of an update for now. I have run reports to put in order again. (Oh joy) besides...I'm tired of typing.

Bleh...

Ok. I think I may have decided to just give up on Japheth. I mean, if he calls and wants to come over, that's cool. But I'm done sitting around and waiting for him. I mean, shit. I saw him when we woke up Saturday. Since then, I have heard exactly 5 words from him. He was AIM Tuesday while I was working.

Me- Shouldn't you be in bed? LOL
Him- I'm on my way.
Me- Ok then. Sleep well.
Him- Ok.

And nothing since. I called on my way home from throwing darts on Wednesday. I wanted someone to talk to while I drove home. He didn't answer, so I left a voice mail. Still, nothing. I could be over reacting, who knows. I know he's EXTREMELY busy with recording and that tends to distract him. But, a simple phone call in a week is too much? It's not like I'm asking him to give me a fucking itinerary or anything. I just want to know how things are going with recording and how he is. And, on a more selfish note, I'm trying to judge whether or not I'm some fuckbuddy or if I'm something more. He said he didn't want a serious relationship. Cool. I can deal with that. Then he started calling more regularly. After the one argument we've had, he started making it known that he was still alive. Now, not so much. Hell, I doubt I'd have even seen him Saturday if I hadn't been drunk and insisting. I probably made him feel bad for forgetting my birthday as well. I guess I'm expecting too much but wanting him to call. I'm tired of sitting by my fucking phone every night, hoping he'll call. I'm tired of worrying about him when it gets late or when the roads get bad. And I'm tired of not knowing how he feels. Whether or not I'm wasting my time by thinking there may be a chance for something more with him. Just fucking tell me. That's all I want.

Wow. I'm just one huge ass fucking bummer this morning. I think it could be due to all this damned snow that keeps falling. I don't mind snow, for the most part. But when assloads of it fall from the sky at once, it tends to make me pissy. I'm just glad I don't live in New York. I've heard they're supposed to get 18 inches!!! We're supposed to get a mere 8 inches here in good ole Flint, MI. I feel lucky when I think about the shit that they're getting.

I've been listening to a lot of screamy-angry-metal this morning. Lamb of God, The Haunted, etc. Usually that shit makes me all bouncy and in the mood to kick things and/or people. Not today for some reason. Fuckin moody shit. I suppose that'll be all for now. Bleh.