Reflecting on 2009

2010 is in less than 13 hours. HOLY SHIT Y’ALL!

Wow! This year has totally flown by. It really does seem like we were just at the beginning of 2009. But a lot has happened this year too. I started thinking about everything and came up with a pretty good list of major events(good AND bad) from 2009:

I crept one year closer to turning 40. Damn I’m getting old.

I visited someone very special to me that I hadn’t seen in nearly 20 years.

I found out the company I work for was being bought out and that I would be laid off in early 2010.

I surprised my best friend and little sister by flying out to be at her baby shower. Because, of course, I just HAD to be there.

I stumbled onto Twitter and it SAVED MY LIFE. Ok, so maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it has totally been The Awesome.

I had the priviledge of attending BlogHer@Home and met some absolutely awesome and down-right funny people! (And the BEST Longhorns fans EVAH! HOOK EM!) (And trust me the links above don’t even BEGIN to cover all the amazing people I met. I promise I’m not trying to slight ANYONE!)

I finally committed to going back to college and finished my first semester (with A’s, yo! WOOT!)

I emancipated mah boobies! Are you shocked? ME TOO! (Yes I’m crazy, but not so crazy to give you the link right to it. If you send booze, then we’ll talk.)

My son came out to Utah and visited for the 2nd year in a row (I’m definitely hoping for a 3rd year too!)

And with all of that going on, I finally began to find my voice. It took a while, and it’s absolutely a work in progress, but it’s been a lot of fun so far. I look forward to see where the journey leads in 2010.

I wish all of you a safe and Happy New Year! I sincerely hope that 2010 brings you lots of joy! Bottoms up!

All my love,

This is exactly why I don't talk about the sperm donor.

WARNING: This post is a HUGE rant that covers a couple of decade’s worth of shit and even then I’m barely touching on SO many things. I TOTALLY understand if you want to run screaming from it. I want to run screaming from it, and it’s my life! If you do dare to actually read it, well then, consider yourself forewarned.

*****

I have an ex-husband. I admit it.

It’s not that I hide my first marriage. Not in the least. My first marriage played a very big part in shaping the person I am today. I just usually refer to it indirectly (second marriage, second husband, etc.). If you have checked out my sidebar, you might have noticed that I acknowledge my ex-husband briefly. Very. Briefly. And then I go on to say that I don’t like to talk about him. EVER.

I hate my ex-husband. Hate him. Yes, I did just use the H word. And yes, I do know how harsh that sounds.

I met my ex when I was a senior in high school. My first job was at the local roller skating rink (remember those?) and my ex worked there too. We met and got along well enough and started dating about a month after I started working at the rink.

Our relationship…..overall…..was volatile. I can’t think of a better word to describe it. We fought A LOT. I wouldn’t say it was abusive. But it sure as hell wasn’t healthy. It took me years to figure out that I jumped from the frying pan into the fire. I used him as my excuse to get away from my family, which was dysfunctional with a capital D.

I fooled myself into thinking that I loved my ex and stayed in the relationship because the alternative to me was so much worse. It was either him or my family. And it was imperative that I stay away from my family. They were quicksand to me (but that’s a post for another day). So I stayed. Even though he treated me badly. Even through the drugs. Even through the lies.

And then we broke up for a while. Sure, I know NOW that the break up was the best thing. But then? Breaking up with my ex forced me back to my family, which by this time was totally falling apart. I didn’t want to be around that. I still felt I had to get away from them. So when my ex apologized, I took him back.

I was pregnant with my son soon after and we were married a few months later.

After my son was born (at least I think it was after), my ex started having unexplained seizures that left him on disability and without a driver’s license. We had to move in with his parents, which just added more stress and things were already bad between us. By the time he went back to work and we moved out, the relationship was in shambles. The lies started again. When I confronted him with the huge lie he had told all along about his health issues, I said it was over. I took my son and left.

I struggled on my own. And I made mistakes. HUGE mistakes. Mistakes that I still kick myself for. One of those mistakes gave my ex the foothold he needed to separate my son from me. After that, he filed for divorce. Before the divorce was final, I felt like I hadn’t given the marriage 100% effort. I know now that it really was about still staying away from my family. I just didn’t have enough faith in myself.

The lies continued. My ex said that he had a vasectomy. Can you guess what happened next? You got it. I wound up pregnant. Luckily, that pregnancy did not go to term. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would have been like if we had another child together. I don’t want to.

Sadly, I stayed with him for quite a few more months. The divorce was final, but we were still dating. At some point, I FINALLY got a clue! I realized that I had given the marriage every effort, and that I deserved so much better. I told my ex that it was over.

To say he took it badly was an understatement. And he had the upper hand. He had my son. My ex knew that I wanted nothing to do with him, but he knew I wanted my son. And he used it against me every chance he got. When I moved out of state a few years later, I tried to work with my ex on a reasonable visitation, but he would have none of it. The day I left CA was the worst day ever. I didn’t see my son after that for 7 years.

My ex wasn’t planning to make it easy for me to stay in touch. He changed his phone number and refused to let me have it to try to keep me from contacting my son. He even took my son out of town on a weekend I drove back to CA. Yes, my ex knew I was coming. I made plans with him a month in advance. He was just being vindictive. I also knew he was bad mouthing me to my son (which was confirmed in a conversation my son and I had a couple of year s ago). He even told my son that if I attended his high school graduation, he wouldn’t be there. I showed up anyway (TAKE THAT MOTHERFUCKER!).

Thankfully, my son’s (paternal) grandmother made sure I was in his life. She is the primary reason I have such a good relationship with my son today. I will never forget her for that.

*****

I told you all of that because of the phone call I received from my son today. It started off as any other normal conversation. He wanted to get a phone number from me. The more he talked, though, the more I knew something was off. So I asked what happened. He said his father kicked him out last night.

And I wanted to kill my ex. Right fucking then and there.

My son was out here in Utah for a visit just a week ago. We talked about how things were at home. I was concerned at how my son described his father’s recent actions. They didn’t make sense to me. I wondered if his actions had anything to do with my son coming out to visit me. I kept it to myself, though, for my son’s sake. I only said here and there that I didn’t agree with certain things and that I didn’t understand why his father was being that way.

When my son went back home it seemed like things were going to be okay. He told his father he was going to move up to Sacramento because the city college there had space available in his degree (the junior college in Stockton where he currently lives is full). I supported his decision and it sounded like his father did too.

I don’t know what changed. And neither does my son. An argument yesterday culminated in my ex telling my son to get out and leave his keys. He also told my son that he is not allowed to call the house or his father’s cell phone. My son is not allowed to go to the house to get his things. Until this Thursday. For 3 hours. Seriously?!?!

I am at a loss. I don’t understand this at all. My son doesn’t do drugs. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He goes to his classes. He EXCELS in his classes. He is responsible. I DO NOT understand what could have happened that would justify this kind of reaction from my ex.

And it makes me wonder if it has to do with me. Is this my ex’s final vengeful act? He can’t use custody against me anymore, since my son is an adult. So is this his one last ditch effort to try to hurt me? I don’t know.

What does hurt me is that I’m not close enough to help my son. I want so badly to be there for him. But I can’t. And it kills me right now. I’ve been crying on and off since I got his call today. I know my son is strong and he will get through this, but I feel like he needs me. And dammit I’M HIS MOTHER! I should be there, right?

Good job, sperm donor. You get an A+ for acting like an ass and driving your son away. I hope you’re proud of yourself. Because in the end, YOU’RE the one who has truly lost.

Fifi saved me from another possbly embarrassing situation.

Husband: Why is the TV screen all slobbery and gross?

Me: Umm…..I dunno. I can tell you what it WASN’T from. It was NOT from me making out with Tom Selleck last night.

Husband: Huh?

Me: Cuz that totally didn’t happen. It must have been the dog.

Husband: What dog? We don’t have a dog.

Me: WTF? What do you mean we don’t have a dog? How could you forget Fifi?

Husband: Fifi?

Me: Yes, Fifi! Our little cockapoo? The one that bit you on the leg last week?

Husband: YOU bit me on the leg last week.

Me: Nooooo. I was pulling Fifi OFF you. She was upset cuz you were ignoring her. I was trying to protect you. Your welcome.

Husband: We do NOT have a dog.

Me: HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? It’s bad enough that you ignore her. Now you’re just being cruel.

Husband: *sigh*

Me: Shhhh! Magnum PI is coming on.


Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if any of that really happened. Except maybe the part about the TV screen being all slobbery and gross. Cuz I don’t need yet another restraining order.

What? You think Tom Selleck would make out with me in real life?

Yeah, me too.

Mormon Graffiti

Driving down Bangerter Highway, you will often see messages written in the fences that cross the highway.

In plastic cups. True story.

You will see anything from birthday messages to welcome home messages for missionaries. Even marriage proposals. They usually don't last long. You might see the messages intact once as you drive by. The next time you pass by? The messages are most likely distorted, possibly even transformed into something totally different from the original message.

I took this picture on the way to work this morning. This message has been intact for I think 3 weeks now. I'm amazed at how much effort was put into it and at how respecful people have been to not destroy it. Of course now that I've said that.....well, you know.

Wordless Wednesday - the best picture EVAH!

What can I say? I makez pretty peoplez!

I don't understand.

He was pissed off. At me. I didn’t understand why. So I asked.

Instead of getting an answer, I was insulted. I was called a whore.

I didn’t understand why.

The insults continued.

I explained that I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I didn’t do anything wrong.

I was told that I was not trusted. That I was in danger of crossing a line.

I wasn’t. I was falsely accused.

I never did anything remotely close to what I was being accused of. I know I didn’t. I explained that and the insults stopped. I thought things would calm down.

I was wrong.

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, I was the bad person again. The insults resumed.

And then it was quiet. He left.

Hours later, I received an apology, but I was still upset. I wasn’t being unreasonable. An apology just didn’t sweep it all away and make it not have happened. And when I explained that?

I was told to bury it.

Not asked.

Told.

Demanded actually.

I was supposed to bury the fact that I had been treated badly. I was supposed to act as if nothing ever happened.

How could I do that? WHY would I do that?

And because I wouldn’t ‘bury it’, I was the bad person all over again. The cycle repeated. The insults resumed.

Except that I still had not done anything wrong.

And I still didn’t understand why.

The next morning, I received another apology. I was told he was wrong. I was told he overreacted. I was told he acted immaturely. But he still didn't acknowledge that I didn't do anything wrong.

I explained that I can't let this keep happening. I can't continue to be a verbal punching bag. He agreed.

So now I try to get past it. But it's hard. It gets harder each time. And when I think about what happened...

...I still don't understand why.

*sigh*

Wordless Wednesday

Now if only I could remember what I did with the disk.....

Hell really has frozen over and I can prove it.

Theorem - Hell has frozen over.

Proof - According to Miriam-Webster’s Dictionary, one of the definitions of hell is:

2 a : a place or state of misery, torment, or wickedness.

Misery.

Torment.

Wouldn’t living in a state I loathe for the past 7 years (7 YEARS? WTF?), dealing with the end of my marriage, and getting laid off from my job in two months qualify for being in a state of misery and/or torment? Yeah, I think so too. *snort* (I promise you there’s more to that list, but then we totally go off-topic and skirt the realm of TMI, so it’s best for me to just keep those to myself.)

Therefore, I am in hell.

And since this is what it looks like today:

We can conclude that hell has truly frozen over.

On My Mind

Another Thanksgiving has come and gone. Whew!

This year was a simple one for us, and I for one (maybe the ONLY one) was glad for it. We ended up getting a Honeybaked Ham (instead of being covered in turkey guts) and just had a few sides with it. Trust me that was more than enough. And no tryptophan comas this year. SCORE!

*****

Two weeks left and I will have SURVIVED THE 1ST SEMESTER! Where’s my gold statue? (btw, it’s spelled s-t-a-c-E-Y! *sigh*)

The homework for the four PowerPoint chapters in my computer class is crammed into the next two weeks. I KNOW! Plus the final PowerPoint project is due next week too. I’m actually thinking of doing very little for the final project, or not even doing it at all. I have such a high grade in that class, it wouldn’t hurt.

And then there’s the math final, which shouldn’t be too bad. I hope.

I got an email from the college saying that course evals are now available online and they’re due by Dec. 13th. That gives me plenty of time to figure out what I’m going to say about the psycho professor from hell. It totally goes without saying that I will NOT miss her. At. All.

This Friday I will finally be allowed to register for the spring semester (cuz I’m still low on the credits totem pole). I’ve decided on 2 programming classes, but I still haven’t quite figured out if I will take 2 or 3 more classes and what they will be yet. Good thing work is slow DEAD. It might actually give me a chance to figure that all out by Friday. Or not. I’m still behind on blog reading you know.

*****

November 19th was my one year blogiversary. And my blog stayed silent.

I could blame the silence on work. I could blame it on school. I could blame it on the fact that I killed like a million brain cells when I got totally shitfaced that week. But the truth is…..

I don’t know WHAT the truth is.

I don’t know why I write less and less lately. I don’t know why I remind myself that I need to write, and then find anything else I can think of to do instead (and my office is looking better than ever these days!). I don’t know why I write blog posts in my head when I lay down each night (but not write them down) only to completely forget what the hell I was thinking about when I wake the next morning.

I’m hoping it’s just a phase and that it passes quickly.

*****

I had the strangest dream last week. I was at my high school reunion and NO ONE TALKED TO ME. NO ONE. It was absolutely awful. And then I was asked to be a server of some sort. And I was all WTF? I'm being ignored and now I'm asked to wait on the people who are ignoring me? I so don't think so. So I left the reunion bawling.

It was SO WEIRD. I already went to my reunion last year. And even though I wasn't the most popular kid in school (in fact far from it...I was a total band geek), I wasn't ignored. I did, however, manage to make an ass out of myself a couple of times cuz I totally remembered someone's face, but completely forgot their name and even called them by a different one. Brilliant Stacey, just plain brilliant.

I'm so sorry Juan! I really do remember you! You can totally accept my Facebook friend request now!

Yeah, like he reads my blog.

WTF?

Originally, I was gonna file this under gigglesnorts. But I really think it falls more under a WTF? Because, obviously.

Seriously?

I'm turning WHAT?????

Inside out?

Upside down?

Japanese? (I don't really think so, think so, think so, think so.)

Actually...I'm turning 40. 40. The big four-oh. Ugh.

My mom used to have a refrigerator magnet that said:

I'd rather be 40 than pregnant.

Of course, at the time, I was neither 40 nor pregnant. I thought the magnet was silly and told my mother as much. She just laughed and said that she agreed with the sentiment. Fine mom, whatEVER!

Well, 40 is quickly approaching, and I have been pregnant a time or two. I no longer think that my mother's magnet was silly, but I haven't quite figured out whether or not I agree with the statement.

Until recently, my age has never bothered me. I've been lucky enough to not look my age (and THANKYOUVERYMUCH to whomever had a hand in that!). And I haven't really exeperienced any real mid-life crisis feelings, unless you count the fact that I've poked more holes in my head (like I need more of those, right?). No boy toys, no sports cars, etc. Maybe that happens after I turn 40? Time will have to tell on that.

The only times I have even been slightly weirded out about my age is when I think of how I have an 19-year old son who is in college. College. Oh my GAWD I'm old! It also doesn't really help that I'm in college now too (can you say potential paradox?).

Over a year ago, I decided that I had no intention of spending my 40th birthday in Utah. No. Way. In. Hell. I was gonna do something fun and something REALLY BIG. And I knew that I wanted to share it with one of my dearest friends. I didn't even have any idea of what to do then, but she said she was totally up for it. So I put my thinking cap on. I heard the gears turning up there and smelled smoke a couple of times but got no real result. Well.....CRAP!

Then I remembered how much fun I had on a cruise to Cabo I took in 2007 with my friend & an amazing group of gals. And I thought THAT'S WHAT WE SHOULD DO! We always talked of taking another cruise somewhere. And is there a more perfect reason than to commiserate celebrate with someone who is depressed about getting over the hill super excited about being 40 and SEXY!

So in less than two months, we are off on a cruise to the Bahamas! WOOT! I cannot tell you how excited I am to be spending my 40th birthday doing something really big, just like I planned. And with such great women. I know it will be a birthday to remember.....in a good way.

Purge, purge again, and just when you think you're done, purge some more.

I wouldn't consider myself a pack rat.  Now.  When I was younger, though, I started to come pretty darn close.  I kept EVERYTHING.

You, know how it is.  You keep every little thing because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

You need more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

You need a bigger home to get more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

You need more money to pay for the bigger home to get more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. (There was an old lady who swallowed a fly. I don't know why she swalloed the fly. Perhaps she'll die.) I guess you could say the things I have kept are my fly.

Moving has always offered an opportunity to get rid of some stuff. Why pack it when you can purge it, right? Right. But no matter how much I get rid of, I think I only get through the surface and maybe 2-3 underlying layers. Tops.

And then I just start amassing NEW stuff. Such a vicous cycle.

Well, I'm getting closer to breaking the cycle. The downfall of my marriage, my impending "over the hill" status, and getting thrown out on my collective career-ass, just to name a few, have me thinking of ways to simplify my life. FAST.

I'm starting with closing my MK business. Honestly, it's time. I've been trying to decide what to do with it ever since I started, but never actually DOING anything with it. On any level. I just don't see that getting any better in the near future, so I'm kickin' it to the curb for now.

Another purge category that is long overdue is my craft items. For years, I was a psychotic craft shopper. Let me clarify something, though. SHOPPING does not imply CREATING. I had ideas of really cool craft projects out the wazoo! Sadly, the ideas never quite panned out or didn't look as good in real life as they did in my head. Man, everything looks/sounds/feels/is SO much better in my head. Maybe I should just go live there!

The last on my list right now are my collectibles. The Bradford Edition plates that hung on a wall for a mere year out of the decade and a half that I have had them. Oh, and my Cherished Teddies. What the HELL was I thinking? Sure, they are freakin cute as hell, and did manage to be on display in my house(s) for a little longer than the plates. But ever since the hostage crisis began (I really do need to explain that sometime, don't I?), they have been nothing more than garage dust collectors. I don't really think that was the artist's intention and it certainly wasn't mine either.

eBay/Craigslist/KSL.com and the like are prolly gonna become my temporary best friends here soon. And hopefully things get a little (or a lot) simpler in my life. Think I can sell the husband? Cuz that would REALLY simplify my life lemme tell ya.

So, I'm curious who else out there is a closet pack rat? Come purge with me peeps! You know you want to.

Gigglesnort of the week

I totally have dain bramage, but it's not from playing foot-bawl without my hehmet and my showdah-mah-pads.

Thanks Tanya for this blast from the past.

Up yours Winter.

Winter is nature's way of saying, "Up yours." ~Robert Byrne

Winter was just screwing with us a couple weeks ago when the temperatures finally dropped 30 degrees and there was snow on the ground for about 8 hours. But now I think it may finally be starting to dig in for the long haul.

Then again, maybe not.

The weather people say we're gonna get snow this weekend and the temps are gonna stay in the 30's and 40's for most of the next week. Except you I can never believe those people, so it will probably be balmy 80-degree days instead. It could happen!

Last night, it was raining on my way home from class but I didn't think anything of it. And then this was what I woke up to this morning:

Pretty, huh? I still think it's too early, though, to say the weather people were right. I'M KEEPING AN EYE ON YOU PEOPLE! YOU HAVEN'T WON ME OVER YET!

So, it was below freezing this morning, snow on the ground, ice on my car door handles, and what did I do?

Went to Starbucks and got a mocha frappuccino. Just in case.

Happy Birthday USMC.....damn you're old!

I'm just kidding about the old part.

Today marks the 234th birthday of the United States Marine Corps. 234 years. Wow. I really did not know that the USMC had been around for that long. Growing up, I could only really equate the Marines with Gomer Pyle, which didn't mean much except that the show was funnier than shit!

Aw come on! Are you kidding me? What do you mean you don't know who Gomer Pyle is?

Well Go-ollly! Talk to the hand. TALK TO THE HAND!

So, Happy Birthday USMC! And thankyouthankyouTHANKYOU to all past, present, and future Marines.

Wait a minute. Don't go thinking that I'm playing favorites with the Marines. My thanks go out to ALL branches of the military. I'm an equal opportunity military supporter. Why else would I have married first an Army guy and then a Navy guy? I'm totally supportive of the military. Either than or I'm totally sadistic. What's next? A Marine? Hmmmm.....there's a thought.

OORAH!

Six Word Saturday

Yes I miss you. Call me.

I don't believe love is elusive.

Wanna know more about Six Word Saturday? Head over to Cate's page.

The flashback that made me want to get physical.

nd here's where I let on to just how old I might be.....

I absolutely heart me some '80s music. Love it. In fact, if I'm in need of something to help keep me motivated on a task, you will either find me listening to music from the '80s or disco. No...that is NOT a typo. (Remember that age thing I mentioned at the beginning of this post? Well...there you go.)

Sidenote: As far as I'm concerned, disco will NEVER be dead. You can't shake your ass to anything else like you can to disco. And don't think I don't know that you do it too. In your home. When nobody's watching (at least so you think). You put on Donna Summer's Last Dance and boogie down. Until you hear someone nearby and you run to switch it to Metallica and start headbanging. Cuz that'll totally throw them off the trail of what you were REALLY doing in there. You can admit it now. We all know. DON'T WE.

My most recent '80s flashback had me searching for the video to Olivia Newton-John's Physical. I found what I was looking for and much more. I got two flashbacks for the price of one. (Then again since it didn't cost me anything, it was actually two flashbacks for the price of none. But I digress yet again.)

Remember Solid Gold? (Cue the "ooooo"s and "ahhhh"s here.)

That weekly music countdown show that was only just a small step up from American Bandstand. Where lip synching songs was the ONLY option and was paired with a bunch of HAWT dancers in spandex (Spandex? In the '80s? NAH!). I vaguely seem to remember having a HUGE crush on one of the male dancers. Couldn't tell you which one, though.

 

That's just some awesome shit right there. She never made a mistake. Her performance was flawless. She never had to take a break in the middle of the song bcuz she was out of breath from her dancing workout (or those steamy hunks dancing with her *fanning self*). And I have absolutely NO idea how my simple little '80s song flashback morphed into poking fun at Solid Gold. I loved that show growing up.

Spooky Six Word Saturday? Perhaps not.

I've missed that past few SWS (so sad) and my six words today are not spooky (well, I guess they could be depending on how you look at them LOL), but here they are:

Husband's leaving for two weeks. WOOT!

I've made my bed, but there are some days I really don't want to lie in it.

Have you ever had days where you were upset, really upset, about something but you don't feel like you can talk to anyone about it cuz everyone knows that you made a decision and that your reasons behind that decision were logical and if you complain about having a bad time you will hear them say just suck it up or move on and you desire neither being unfair to them for having to hear about your situation YET AGAIN nor hearing someone else say what you have already said to yourself repeatedly, leaving you feel completely alone?

Yeah, me neither.

Except today.....aaaaannnd maybe yesterday too.....and maybe the day before that. So pretty much every damn day.

Ok.....so maybe not every day.

There are days when the logic prevails and I'm reminded that this was a GREAT decision. It's been going well. Everything has been moving forward. The light at the end of the tunnel is getting a little closer.

Then there are the days when I repeatedly kick myself at the stupidity of this self-torture I've subjected myself to on a freaking near-daily basis. The days when I wonder just how small I will be made to feel. The days when I think I would be so much better off on my own as a single parent. The days when I think of possible reasons for hiring a hit man drinking myself into oblivion running off with a sugar daddy avoiding going home.

I won't go into detail as to why I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs today (many days actually). The details aren't important. And I know that when my best friend in the whole wide world reads this, she'll be saying, "I'll take Dumbasses whose names begin with the letter 'R' for $200 Alex." Cuz even though I won't tell her what's going on, she KNOWS. And I love her for that.

And I know I will get past this. I will get to one of those days when logic will win out. Hopefully I will start to see more of those.

*updated* You go to hell winter! You go to hell and you die!

I guess it's time to accept the fact that summer (and apparently fall too for that matter) is over. The weather people say that we're getting snow tomorrow and Wednesday, so I guess I have to accept it (even though I don't trust the weather people as far as I can throw them). I sure as hell don't plan on giving up without a fight, though!

These pictures from our day at Lagoon-A-Beach have been sitting in a blank post for a while now (cuz my brain has been on freakin overload lately). They're the perfect way to stick my tongue out at winter's attempts to cut in line this year, don't you think?

P.S. Ash may have a little pink on her thigh, but I'm the one who ended up fried to a crisp that day. Ah, memories!

Update - Winter's tendrils have apparently have started to creep into my brain, cuz I completely forgot a title to this post. I channeled South Park and think I came up with a good one. Winter totally needs to heed that warning.

*updated* I will not let Twitter ruin my good mood.

Overall, today wasn't that great.

I attended two hour-long meetings that were a complete waste of time (but they were shorter than the hour AND A HALF that they were actually scheduled for, so there is that), talked to the secretary of an attorney who can't seem to get it through her head that they ALREADY GOT THE DAMN CHECK (gotta love Payroll, right?), and got extremely frustrated with my problems getting on & viewing tweets (wonder if Brizzly is going to be blocked here at work soon too.....possibly and then I'll REALLY be screwed).

I got a break, though, when I was talking to her about her about her day. We were getting ready to say goodbye, when all of a sudden, OUT OF THE BLUE, she says, "I love you."

And it sucks bcuz I can't tweet it.

Update - And by 'her', I mean my daughter. I guess Twitter flustered me more than even I thought. Great. NOW I'M AN ADDICT! Does that mean it's time for TA. Noooo, not T and A. TA. Twitterers Anonymous.

Nearing the 1st semester half-way point.

I can’t believe it. I’m just about half-way through my 1st real semester of college. And I haven’t dropped a class. And I actually have an A in both classes. This cannot be me. It just can’t. Me, the high school Junior & Senior year slacker (except in Band, of course), who had to cram the night before and the morning of her high school Economics final in order to graduate (got a B on the final & pulled a D out of the class. Whew!).

I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know it’s coming. I just know it.

It’s funny. My College Algebra class is the one I thought would be tough. I was thinking that a 20-year gap would possibly be too much to overcome. I have been wrong (so far) and I haven’t quite figured out what has made the difference. Is it that whole ‘older but wiser’ concept? Is it that I’m putting forth more effort this time around? Is it that this professor just explains it better? All of these are quite possible, though I’m not sure I can pin the difference down to just one reason. Maybe it’s all of them. Maybe it’s that I have better liquor now. Who knows!

My Computer Essentials class is a whole OTHER story. It’s a stupid prerequisite for the programming classes I need (which I really don’t get at all, but whatever). I was feeling going into the class that it should be an easy A. For the most part, it is. EXCEPT. Except for the fact that the (associate) professor teaching this class is treating the Word section like an English class (e.g. I have to write a paper for my Word Final Project). WTF? AND (here’s one of the best parts) she is grading based on a statement in the book that says something ‘typically’ does not occur. Since when does typically equal a hard coded rule? When you point that out to her and provide examples to support it? She says the book says so, so that’s what it is. She shows a complete disregard of the points made. Might as well have not said a damn thing. I talk to others who have taken the same class at the same school under different professors and I get a very different view. Figures. I get the professor who for all I know is being this way thinking it will get her tenure. It was a mistake to take this class from her. I wish I could test out of it, but that’s not an option. Oh well. I am looking forward to the course eval when this is all over.

Getting a spider put on your fingernail is a bad idea. Cuz you'll probably die. Or go to prison. Where you'll die. Or become someone's bitch.

Basically, nothing good can come of it, so just don't do it.

I have acrylic nails. I have had them forever and I maintain them RELIGIOUSLY. I really don’t have a choice. I have to keep them up. If I don’t, I will have no nails. None. Cuz I’m a nail biter. No, you don’t understand. I’m a BAD nail biter (or would that be a good one?). I’ve been one as long as I can remember. I even think I remember my mom saying once that I came out of the womb with no nails. Which means I probably had it from conception. I totally blame my mom. And she is a former biter too, which supports my case. Thanks so much for the genetic defect MOM!

I go in last Saturday for a backfill, like clockwork. The nail place I go to has a HUGE display table full of examples. Anything & pretty much everything you can think of, they've got. Plus they rotate in some seasonal examples cuz they're greedy mothers cuz it's just good business. I head over to the display table looking for something Halloweeny (WTF is wrong with me? Halloweeny?). But anything I remotely give a second glance to is like an additional $30+. I don’t THINK so. Then my nail tech comes over to ‘help’ and I know I’m in trouble. Actually, ‘in trouble’ doesn’t really cut it. I’m screwed. I just can’t say no to her. So, I let her talk me into getting a spider on one of my nails. Great. Just great.

She gets the backfill done first just like normal. Then it’s time for the spider. She puts a big glob of black acrylic goo in the middle of my nail. I just KNOW that there’s an egg sac in there that's just waiting for Halloween night to bust open and take me as a human sacrifice. But how do I tell her NOOOOO! I’m not ready to die yet! without coming across as rude? I just can’t do it. I just can’t tell her that her idea scares the living shit outta me. So I suffer in silence. And while the end result is quite attractive and season appropriate, it does nothing to calm the horrific fears I have of what is to come on Halloween.

And since then.....

I have to hide that fingernail. I have noticed the spider eyeing people around me looking for more potential victims. YIKES! I can’t let that happen! I’d go to prison for murder cuz who in their right mind would believe that a spider on my nail killed people? Plus, I would not make a good inmate. I would completely freak out. Which would leave me a prime candidate to get a shiv in the prison yard. Yep, I’m that girl. Or another inmate would corner me in the shower and make me her bitch. Neither of those are good options for me.

Also, everytime I catch the spider out of the corner of my eye, I freak out screaming, “Spider! OMG! A SPIDER!” Then I grab my stapler and start banging my hand with it yelling, “Kill it! Kill it! KILL IT!” And then my biting habit kicks in, but I CAN’T GET IT OFF!

So now my hand is a sick combination of black/blue/purple/yellow and that finger is all shredded and bloody. It’s pretty much completely useless. Which is why it took me a week to write this post. And my job is in danger of ending even earlier. I keep getting written up for being a disruption in the office. But then again, my job will be over when I get arrested for murder anyway.

Can anyone recommend a lawyer? I’m gonna need a good one to keep me from going to prison. And then I think I'm gonna sue my nail technician. It's all her fault. Better yet, I’ll sic my spider on her. Yeah, that would work.

Gigglesnort of the week - 10/5/2009

I follow Jenny The Bloggess. She is butter. Butter I tell you. She is death by butter. Before the chorus of The Hell? hits the comments, let me explain. Chefs always say cooking with butter is awesome. So by calling The Bloggess butter, I'm professing her total AWESOMENESS! I shit you not.

I also follow another blog that Jenny's involved with, Good Mom/Bad Mom. This one has some funny shit too, even if the Houston Chronicle tries to contain her awesomeness. You CANNOT contain The Bloggess! Anyway, while reading a recent post, a commenter (TC) provided this week's gigglesnort:

What I wanna know is, why the fuck didn't Santa leave THAT doll under my Christmas Tree? I was screwed.

Rock on Bloggess and all your awesome followers!

Six Word Saturday

Lounging around and avoiding homework today.

Check out Six Word Saturday here!

Gigglesnort of the week

Mondays are rapidly becoming work avoidance days, so I'm getting caught up on my to do list from yesterday.

Many of you are asking, "WTF is a gigglesnort? A lot of my friends can tell you just exactly what it is. A gigglesnort is something that is so amazingly funny, so outrageously funny, so laugh-out-loud funny that it causes me to snort. And it's no itty bitty snort that leaves you wondering whether or not you really heard it. It's loud. There's no mistaking EXACTLY what is and EXACTLY where it's coming from (i.e. me). And I want to share the things that make me gigglesnort (or come really close to it). Cuz I don't wanna be alone. I KNOW there is someone else out there that will react just as I do. You know who you are.

So to start it all off an email I received this past week from a friend:

A professor at the University of North Carolina was giving a lecture on 'Involuntary Muscular Contractions' to his first year medical students. Realizing this was not the most riveting subject, the professor decided to lighten the mood slightly. He pointed to a young woman in the front row and asked, "Do you know what your asshole is doing while you're having an orgasm?" She replied, "Probably deer hunting with his buddies."

It took 45 minutes to restore order in the classroom.

Disclaimer: I did some research so that I could properly credit the source, but did not find it at the time this was posted. If anyone comes across it, let me know and I will update this post. Thank you!

Countdown to New Moon

My friend Jamie bugged me forEVER to read the Twilight series. Every time I saw her, she asked if I started reading the books yet. Every. Time. And quite a few others I knew were reading the books too. So, finally, I indulged my friend. And then I wanted to bitchslap her cuz I was hooked. Damn her! LOL So now I'm a fan of the Twilight series. I LOVE those books!

Twilight the movie wasn't as good as the book, but I liked it. Jamie and I saw it together, of course. I am even looking forward to the New Moon movie in theaters November 20th. And I LOVE this New Moon movie poster! Jacob (Taylor Lautner) is freakin HAWT! I grabbed the movie countdown (conveniently on the movie poster I love) from Stephenie Meyer's New Moon movie website and you can grab it too.

I need to call Jamie so we can make plans to see the movie together.

My mood at the beginning of the evening would have fit in better at a 2 Live Crew show instead of a Rick Springfield show.

Well, I just finished my homework, so let's see if I can downshift and talk about this weekend. I know there are some curious minds out there. Now, it's entirely possible that this will make sense to no one else but me. And I will not be in the least offended if you run screaming from this post. LOL

Last Friday is the Rick Springfield concert in Wendover. The show starts at 8pm and the trip takes 2 hrs from our house(especially going down Bangerter). I plan to leave home around 5 pm to allow time for motel check-in and maybe food (big maybe). The husband leaves work at Noon to take our daughter to stay with his mother. Even with travel time, he has plenty of time to get ready. I leave work at 4pm, like I planned, cuz I can't take the day off or leave much earlier than that. I plan to dress casual, cuz it's not Vegas people. It's just Wendover. But I want to fix my hair and makeup a little, though. Anyone who really knows me knows that I didn't already have my hair and makeup done for work. And I still need to pack a few things. I get home to find the husband dressing up. And I'm all, "You don't need to dress up. I'm not." He says he wants to dress a little nicer. Fine. Whatever. I pack my stuff in the suitcase and all that's left is to change my top and fix my hair/makeup. Husband says he thought about going to the bank, but didn't actually do it cuz we can stop by on the way out of town. That makes no sense to me since he left work more than 4 hours ago, but fine. Whatever. He then remarks that he didn't realize this was a dress rehearsal. And I'm all, "Dress rehearsal? WTH is that supposed to mean?" And he says nevermind, which of course pisses me off. So when he does finally answer me, it's a derogatory remark about me wanting to make myself look a little nicer. And I'm all, WTF? You're dressing up and you can't understand why I wanna do my hair and put on some makeup? You left work when? And you couldn't bother to stop by the bank to save us some time? Seriously? Ok, so that was all in my head, but still. I was pissed. So I go into the bathroom (slamming the door for the desired effect) and realize that there's no time to do my hair or makeup. That's just great. Thankyouverymuch. I throw my hair up in a ponytail and come out of the bathroom to start throwing my last few things together. Maybe I'll have some time once we get there to put some makeup on. I tell the husband that I'm upset about not doing anything wrong, but yet being made to feel really small for needing to do a few things. The husband then decides to tell me to go by myself and to have a good time. I NEED to have a good time by myself, he says. And I'm all, "Absolutely not! I'm not going to give you an opportunity to throw it back in my face later that I was a bitch who kept you from going to this concert! You're going!" I may not speak to you for the entire trip, but you are FUCKING GOING! Ok, so that last part was an exaggeration. I grab everything except his CPAP and stomp down the stairs. The husband is behind me mumbling how I'm stubborn for not letting him carry anything. And I'm thinking, Dood, you just need to shut the hell up and get in the damn car before I change my mind! I throw everything in the car. And realize I'm starving. I know I won't be eating before the show and I WILL be drinking. A LOT. That's a given at this point. So I search the pantry for something to eat and the husband asks if I want yogurt. And I'm all, "Yogurt? And exactly how am I supposed to eat that?" He says with a spoon. And I'm all, "Seriously? While I'm driving?" Cuz I'll be damned if I'm gonna let YOU drive! We get on the road and he doesn't say a word. Not one. For like 30 minutes. And I'm thinking, Dood, you are SO not helping your case. He finally apologizes, and for once it actually sounded sincere (Long story. Really REALLY long story.). And he offers to drive so I can get ready. No way I'm letting him drive when we're in a time crunch. HELL no. So we settle into a slightly less awkward silence for a while, which is just fine by me.

The rest of the drive was uneventful until the last 30 miles or so, which is where we encounter a bunch of drivers that are freakin' STOOPID. They have no idea of how to drive on a two-lane highway (hint: YOU DON'T CAMP YOUR ASS IN THE LEFT LANE! I'm just sayin.). My tolerance on the road is...oohh...zero. Zilch. Nada. Especially now. So, to get away from them, I end up doing 100 the rest of the way to Wendover. The husband looks over at one point, and I'm all, "Yes, I AM doing a hundred!" Just stay on your side of the car. You're still on my shitlist! Ok, so I only really said that first part. But the rest was on the tip of my tongue, I promise you.

Capping off the night? The motel. I have a reservation, but there's a delay checking in. The desk clerk goes to get someone's help. Oh shit. This other person comes out and says that the reservation was cancelled. Ummmmm, I didn't cancel my reservation. The new clerk says they have one room available (a suite) that's $129.95. Ummmm, I STILL didn't cancel my reservation that was booked at $60. She says they'll get it fixed. She calls customer service who tells her they cancelled the reservation per a phone call on 9/6/09. Ummmm, oooook. I supposedly called to cancel my reservation that I made ONLINE and no one thought to send me a confirmation ONLINE that it was cancelled? Sure, I totally get that. I do it all the time. Amazingly, I stay calm (I have NO idea how at this point). The clerk says they'll fix it and gets us a room. I'm all, Didn't you just say that you only had one room? Sweet, we're gettin the suite? Niiiice! Oh, we're getting a regular room? Fine. I'll take it. We're running out of time before the show starts, so I don't fucking care anymore. I just want a place to sleep tonight. Wait! Didn't you just say that you only had one room left?

We head straight to the concert hall after that and I'm so close to spewing forth the slew of 4-letter words I've been bottling up for the past 2 hours. Ask Twitter. I've got just enough time to throw on some mascara before the concert. And with a wave of that magic wand, I'm transformed into Princess Cinderella who gets swept off her feet by Prince Charming. Ok, so maybe it wasn't quite that magical. Rick never got anywhere near me. But I got to see a great show.

And I can't believe it just took me 3 hours to write this. I was reliving it.....in real-time. Great.

My 1st Girl Talk Thursday

What kind of undergarments do you wear? Panties? Bra? Underoos?

I think this topic is a brilliant way to start participating in Girl Talk Thursday, don't you? Sadly, it will be pretty short cuz I'm writing this kinda late and I'm starting to get sleepy. I probably will re-read this tomorrow and add some brilliance to it that I just might miss tonight (watch for the update! LOL).

I have a little late-blooming love for undergarments. But if I had money, it would be a full-blown obsession! I would need a separate closet for just my undergarments! True story. I have my comfy undergarments for some days. The girls need support after all and I'm all about support. But...on the flip side...I just love sexy, frilly, racy, steamy undergarments that just plain make me feel hawt! I am not (I repeat NOT) afraid of thongs. BRING ON THE BUTT FLOSS! Even if no one sees my underwear, I know they are there. And that knowledge it a huge ego boost. HUGE. And the times when someone does get to see them? Honey there's not enough water in the WORLD to put that fire out!

And since Victoria's Secret can't seem to get a fucking clue of what size a REAL sexy woman wears, I have to say how much I love Frederick's of Hollywood. Frederick's is this sexy woman's saving grace. I wouldn't be able to indulge my addiction without them. Actually, I think it's time I head upstairs and do some indulging. For me. My ego could use a boost.

Picture Day is an evil plot to destroy parenthood as we know it.

Today is Picture Day and I'm ready to scream and commit murder/death/kill. Over hair. Seriously.

My daughter is no girlie-girl. She is definitely more of a tomboy. But I'm usually fairly successful in making a compromise with her so that she at least looks somewhat like a girl. Except with her hair. I can barely get her to comb her hair, let alone *do* anything with it. If she had her way, she would always wear a hat. But she doesn't always get her way. I win on occasion, picking my battles carefully. I'm sorry, but I want to have *some* pictures/memories where I can say "There's my beautiful little GIRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLL!"

So this morning the husband tells Ashley to get ready for school so that I can do her hair. And we get the bi-annual *tongue click-foot stomp-sigh-"Noooooo!"*. We'll see/hear it again in the spring when it comes time for those pictures. Can't wait. Her response always helps our mood *so* much and at that point we're all GETREADYFORSCHOOLRIGHTNOW!

Have I told you that I've always wanted to be a motivational speaker? No? Well, that's good, cuz I don't.

After Ashley gets dressed, she comes in my bathroom. And it begins. I'm having a mental discussion with her hair begging it to help me find an appropriate style that won't be too difficult to do. Ok, let's see. I know...I'll comb this part down. Yes. Wet it a little so it lays right. That's good. Ashley, will you please stand up straight and stop tilting your head. Thank you. Now I'll take this small part and wave it back. Hmmm... Maybe. Maybe if I put in a clip to hold it in place? Ye...no. That clip won't hold. Ashley...PLEASE. *sigh* I don't have another clip. The few small clips I have won't match her outfit! WHY DON'T I HAVE ANY OTHER CLIPS? Oh, wait, I found one. Whew! Ok, so let me grab that piece again and wave it back. Slide in the clip. Crap! There's a piece sticking up. Ok, take the clip back out. Comb it back down. Let's try this again. Wave that piece back. And slide in the clip. Almost there. And check her wispy bangs. And ohmyfuckingGODAshley! Can you PLEASE just hold still for 5 minutes so I can make you look like you weren't rolling around in the planter this morning?

These few and far between styling sessions ALWAYS end the same way. I'm pissed off and she's in tears. Over hair. Seriously. Can I tell you how much I'm looking forward to puberty?

And so *I* end up late for work looking like the walking dead. Cuz after all that? I don't give a flyingfartinspace what *I* look like today.

P.S. I'll have to ask my Mom if she had to go through this crap with me on Picture Days. I'm thinking no, but that could be early dementia setting in (I have CRS - Can't Remember Shit) or from the bender I (think I) was on last night.

Dancing in the street? Maybe not today.

It's raining. The first big fall rain of the year.

Not that sprinkly shit that decides to tease everyone with the possibility of a temperature drop, but then says "PSYCH!" and stops leaving us hot AND wet. Not from the rain, though, but from the following muggi-ness that hangs afterwards.

Afternoon rain reminds me of another afternoon, a freakin' million years ago (a.k.a. high school). I can't remember what time of the year it was (cuz it was a freakin' million years ago. What part of that did you NOT get?). My friend Robyn and I were at my house and it started to rain. Only it was still sunny outside. So what did we do? We went outside and danced in the rain. In the middle of the street. True story. Cars drove by and we waved. WAVED. We waved at them and kept dancing. After, we went back in the house, soaked and laughing.

There are times when I miss those days. Like today. The first big fall rain. And I would love nothing more than to go outside and dance in the rain. Maybe not in the middle of the street. I'm not crazy. I AM NOT!

Ok, so I just looked out the window. It's raining REALLY hard. And it's REALLY windy. And there's thunder and lightning. I think I will have to postpone my rain dancing for now.

Fuck. My car windows are open.

Six Word Saturday

Frustrated with college online computer class!


Check out Six Word Saturday here!

One week down.....

I actually finished my college checklist. WOOT!

Apply/get accepted (completed)

Take placement tests (completed)

Complete New Student Orientation (completed)

Apply for financial aid (completed)

Select classes (completed)

Register for classes (completed)

Start classes VERY IMPORTANT! (completed)

I survived my first week, amazingly, considering how much things have changed. I'm taking one in-person class and one online class, but all my homework is online. So weird. I spent hours yesterday doing my homework for my College Algebra class bcuz not only am I learning how to use MyMathLab for homework, I'm re-learning a lot of Algebra (or more accurately refreshing my memory).

The online class I'm taking is Computer Essentials. If I don't ace this class, I deserve to be bitchslapped. And I already have friends waiting in line to help me out with that. Gotta love 'em!

I haven't written here anywhere near as much as I would like. I hope it doesn't get worse over the next few months. But who knows, maybe my college experiences will give me even more to write about.

Tales of a 5th grade superstar!

 

She's a superstar in my eyes, of course.

This child, who regularly sends me to my *happy place*.

This child, who is not a mini me, but is a spot-on mini him (in personality more than anything).

This child, who couldn't wait to get rid of me on her 1st day, even at a brand new school.

This child, who was FINALLY able to give us the details of her day at school without a single "I don't know."

This child, who was AMAZED at having more lunch choices at her new school (and actually had a salad on her 2nd day. WHO IS THIS GIRL?).

This child, who is growing up so fast. She truly is a superstar.

*updated* It's blog play time with Stacey.

My blog is in need of an overhaul. I think. Or I'm just SO bored today that I'll play with my blog design to pass the time. Either way, you guys are gonna LUUUUUUUVVVVVV me! Maybe not after I burn your eyes with some gawd-awful background color that is immediately blinding. LOL

Suggestions are welcome, along with (contstructive) criticisms. I imagine this will be a work in progress for the next............oh let's just say forever! :)

Let's have some fun!

Update - Ok so it's pretty bare bones right now. Bear with me. It's temporary. And I expect to hear from you if MY temporary lasts for weeks months years forever!

Work is gonna ban me from the internet.

Yesterday, I was reading one of the blogs I follow and now I'll be lucky if they don't take away my internet access at work. (be warned that it's potentially NSFW, which is why they're going to ban me from the internet as work).

The post started out fairly tame. But then I read where it said that Target sells cock rings and I'm all, "The HELL???" So I read it again and I'm all, "WTF???" The author had to be making this up. HAD to be. So I clicked on the link.....and that was all it took. I immediately transformed into a teenage boy, doing my best imitation of Butthead:

Huh huh...huh...uhhhhh...huh huh...you said...huh huh...c-c-c-c-cock...huh huh...huh huh!

But in a much more dignified, womanly manner. Which means that I was drooling on my desk laughing so hard and trying desperately NOT to snort. Oh. My. Gawd. How a few simple words can reduce me to this.

The rest of the post was a blur, since my mind was totally focused on the fact that TARGET SELLS COCK RINGS. Nothing can worm it's way into my one-track mind at that point. So don't even try. After my teenage hormones had *somewhat* settled, I HAD to tell people, "Did you know that Target sells cock rings?" Which, of course, pretty much started the giggles all over again.

I don't know if I will ever truly be able to express my gratitude to her for helping to perpetuate my status of the troublemaker at work. Huh huh...huh huh.

*updated* The series of tweets that became a blog post.

I've totally figured out the cure for my insomnia..........going to work.

It’s a payroll week and I’m busy, but all I can think of is closing my eyes and going to sleep.

Fuck people’s paychecks. They don’t need to get paid, right?

Oh all RIGHT! I’ll pay them, but then I’m putting my head down and going to sleep!

Ok, so I keep forgetting that I’m sending things to the printer. I get up to do something else and then realize I don’t have what I printed so I print it again.

OMG I’M KILLING TREES! I should be burned at the stake!

I need to be stopped cuz it's not enough that I'm killing trees by wasting paper. Apparently I need to burn them down too for my self-mutilation/self-sacrifice.

I'm going to hell.

Good thing I don't believe in hell.

And that the liquor store is just down the street.

Update: So that last line doesn't really make sense to me, which means I imagine that it *absolutely* doesn't make any sense to a lot of people. So, let me add that if I'm going to hell, I'll be the geeky popular wanna be who brings booze to desperately try to fit in.

Look out Satan.....here I come and I'm bringin' a keg to get the party started!

Auntie Stacey is a slacker.

I missed the birthdays for my sister's kids this year. All. Of. Them. The fact that I can't even remember if I did anything last year for their birthdays is irrelevant. Most of last year I was in a drunken haze. So this year, I set up reminders on Birthday Alarm to help me with my alcohol-induced amnesia. Yeah, well...I think I need to upgrade to the package where they send you a messenger that repeatedly pokes you with a special event cattle prod until you actually DO something to acknowledge the event. To them, not you. It's all about THEM, remember?

I'm the fucking world's worst aunt.

So here I am, almost a week AFTER the last of their birthdays, and I am just now getting their cards done. I started with my neice's card. I figure that at 12, she is much more likely to get my humor than the other two (but I toned it down even for her - no need to traumatize her any more than is standard for the near teenage years). So here is how I try to somehow redeem myself:

Yep I know *exactly* how late I am with this. I do. Many days lately, I am a slacker. Auntie Stacey is a slacker! LOL Even though I am a slacker, I promise you I was thinking of you on your birthday. Were your ears burnin'? I telepathically sent you lots of love, so if you all of a sudden felt warmth and surrounded by a big invisible hug, that was me. :) We hope you had a great birthday! You've grown so fast and I can't forget holding you when you were a baby. Ok I'll stop embarrassing you now! Just know we love you! Happy Belated Birthday!

I hope she likes it and forgives me for being such a slacker. Maybe next year will be better. Depends on how much I drink, I guess.

Some days I just don't know how I'm going to do this.

Having this time to myself just wasn't what I thought it would be.

When the husband said he was finally being sent out of town for work, I dropped to my knees and cried, "My prayers have been answered, thank you LORD!" But then I remembered that I'm agnostic, so that didn't really help. I thought that the time apart would be a good break from the tension in the house. And it has been. But along with that, came something I wasn't expecting. Something that I am having a difficult time explaining (even to myself). I found that I focused on how much I wanted to be free of this 'arrangement' and to move on with my life. To hopefully find love again. And I realized how scared I am that I won't be able to find it. That I won't be able to have a lasting, loving relationship (that is after the prince charges up on his white steed and sweeps me off my feet - good dream!). It keeps me up at night and helps me plot how I'm going to stab the husband as he sleeps cuz I can he snores.

I recently bought the eternity necklace above. I'm not superstitious. I just liked the idea of wearing these rings near my heart reminding me of things I need to hold onto through this tough time (cuz I couldn't find faith, trust, and pixie dust). If they don't work I can always start rubbing my rabbit's foot, knocking on wood, and spinning around clockwise 7 times.

P.S. I'm watching An Officer and a Gentleman on cable and they dubbed over & bleeped out the word wop. This country's going to hell. I should probably try to get some sleep, but the odds of success are not in my favor. Good thing the husband is not here or he would be in serious danger if he eyeballed me.

P.P.S. Oh, I need a drink.

Timing is everything.

I just know I'm being tested. Tested to see if I can take care of things without the husband. So, of course the check engine light came on in my car when the husband is out of town. And I started to freak out.....a little. I was on the phone with the husband and he told me to take it to the Checker Auto near home to have them pull the code from the computer. I was told at Checker that they weren't allowed to actually do it for me, but gave me the tool & showed me how to use it. The scan tool wouldn't establish a link with my car & no it was NOT operator error. Next stop, Auto Zone. By then, I was comfortable enough to ask to use their scan tool, but the employee was nice enough to do it for me. The result was that my car won't blow up in the near future, but it does need to go to the dealer. Which means I better go to sleep early so I can get it to the dealer in the morning. Bumper-to-bumper warranties are the best.

Ok, world, I passed this part of the test. I'm ready for round 2.

I had to do it to make the voices go away.

I just couldn't help it. Not one bit. While taking my daughter to return her library books (b cuz she told me *tonight* that the books were due back *today* - of course they were), I heard a voice quietly calling my name "staaaaacey". Then I heard it again a little louder "Staaaaaaaaaaacey". Well, I guess the voice wanted to make sure it wasn't ignored, cuz the next thing I heard was "STACEY GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE AND BUY ME ALREADY, OK?????" What could I do? Sure, I could have resisted temptation, but who needs a waistline anyway? I hear they're overrated.

I think I had my 1st drunk blogging experience last nite. How did I do?

You know how after you do something you just have to "talk" about it, so you journal, blog, call your bff, etc. to tell about it? Well, that might not be the best thing for me to do when I've been drinkin'. Maybe it is. I dunno. I remember wanting to write about my BlogHer@Home experience last night, but I do not remember anything about actually writing it. And then I read it. LOL I keep going between "Don't ever fuckin' do it again!" (which movie?) to "Maybe you should do that more often!". Obviously, I'm leaning more towards the latter.

I'm honored to have the http://www.blogherathome.com/ crew visit my site, still being a somewhat new blogger. I (soberly) thank you for a laugh-out-loud funny nite and I really look forward to tonite & tomorrow nite.

I do have to say that I totally meant it when I wrote that you bitches are amazing. And I promise that I can be funny even when I'm sober.

BlogHer@Home is the bomb, and that's not just the booze talking.

Just signed off from an awesome time at http://www.blogherathome.com/. It was awesome, just fucking awesome. The chat tonite had some awesome giveaways (I didn't win, but I'm still hopeful for tomorrow!) and some great laughs. If I didn't have to be an adult tomorrow and go to work, I would totally still be chatting there now. ;)

I'm more than lightly toasted, bordering on half-baked. The husband keeps trying to talk to me, but all I hear is, "Wah Wah...Wah...Wah Wah Wah...Wah Wah" (& if you have never watched a Charlie Brown cartoon don't EVEN ask, you baby!).

Ok, so I just put on my Beatles CD. WTF? Is this what I listen to when I'm drinkin? Hmmm....not that I can recall, but then again I don't really remember much right now. It's probably the booze talking. Or not. I just might be *that* weird. My friends can attest to that.

Anywhoo, you should totally check out http://blogherathome.com/, cuz these bitches are AMAZING! Hope to see you ladies again tomorrow. Thx so much for the hangover that I can complain about tomorrow. You'll never know how much it means to me. ROFL I should totally go to sleep now. Emphasis on *should*.

*Updated* Blog Hop '09 from the perspective of a (not so) noob blogger.

Reading all kinds of blog posts & tweets about BlogHer '09, I was jealous. I admit it. I wish I was there hangin' with the big dogs, partyin' like it's 1999, & learning from the best. Not this year, though. After finding out about it fairly late, I 1st ticked off the reasons of why I wasn't worthy to attend & then said, "Screw it. I'm totally worthy!" But then, my mental birthday block temporarily lifted and I remembered that the cruise for my 40th is coming up. BlogHer had to take a back seat this year.

So here I am playin' Bejeweled Blitz with the green-eyed monster. And I'm not alone. I don't blame the others either; Bejeweled Blitz is the bomb. The good news is we're not left out. We can party from home and it's even better, cuz we don't have to spend all the money to go to Chicago. We can even party in our pj's! What's better than that? Come join Blog Hop '09 & meet lots of other bloggers out there. I'm definitely not gonna miss this!

Update - I just now caught that I had put Blog Hop '90 in my title instead of '09. The fact that I caught that after tossin' back a few just might be scary. Hmmmmm.....

They hire geniuses at Burger King, but only the lower level geniuses.

There was no way to avoid getting breakfast on the way to work yesterday morning cuz I was starving. My options near work were REALLY limited, which meant.....Burger King. Oh joy. The total for my #1 with bacon and a small coke was $4.72. Perfect. I had a $10 and needed change to pay someone back. I pulled up to the window, handed the worker my money, and asked if I can have 5 $1 back. He stood there. And stared at me. Obviously, what he must have heard was "What is the square root of 5,732,945?". WE all know the answer to that, but apparently he missed that day at BKU. I didn't realize that asking for a specific denomination in my change would give him THAT much pause. Had he stood there any longer, I'm sure I would have started to smell smoke coming from his brain as he frantically tried to comprehend the meaning of life question that I posed to him. Wonder what he would have done if I had asked him a REALLY hard question like, "Do you like green eggs and ham? Do you like them, Sam-I-Am?"

D-Day approaches & I will storm the beaches of Normandy SLCC campus with guns blazing pencils ready.

The start of the fall semester is looming in the not too distant future, so I figured it was time to take a look at where I am with everything that needs to be done to kick this pig. No, I'm not really going to kick a pig, unless you have treasured loathesome stuffed pig with the stuffing starting to come out that you want to loan me. If we do this, though, you should know it's safe to say that you won't get your pig back.

Wait a minute.....what the hell was I talking about? Oh yeah...college checklist. (Sigh) There are days I still can't believe I am actually attempting this torture yet AGAIN. But things seem to be falling into place pretty well & quickly, so that must mean that this is the right time in my life to get this done. 3rd time's a charm, right? Below is my initial checklist that just covers the basics at a high-level. I didn't think it was necessary to get really detailed by adding things like: (Under Apply for financial aid) Pull at least 1/2 your hair out trying to find all the required financial documentation that you thought you were through with once you finally got off your ass & filed your god damned taxes. That just goes without saying, right?

Apply/get accepted (completed)

Take placement tests (completed)

Complete New Student Orientation (completed)

Apply for financial aid

Select classes

Register for classes

Start classes VERY IMPORTANT!

I'm applying for financial aid while working on selecting my classes, cuz that's just the kind of psychotic awesome multitasker I am. I'm even finding time/energy to keep my blog updated with my academic escapades. Damn, I'm good. Now if I could just figure out what my major should be? I couldn't find professional alcohol consumer on the list. I'm at a loss.

*updated* You shouldn't piss me off in a room full of knives.

Sadly, the husband & I are sitting at the kitchen table.....playing on our respective laptops. Yes, this is our Saturday night entertainment. I have yet to decide if we have no lives, are getting old, or are just too fucking lazy to do something decent on a Saturday nite. It seriously went downhill when the husband opened his mouth & inserted both feet (as he usually does). After a lull in the conversation, he says, "I'm looking on Travis' page right now." I asked, "His Facebook page? Are you still on Facebook?" He replied, "Yeah. His oldest daughter? Is really freakin' cute." And I'm all, "Dood! I'm sitting right FUCKING here!!!!!!!!!!"

Now I realize that this is pretty much a marriage of convenience (& certainly not the good kind of convenience), but I now keep looking over at the knife block, trying to decide if it's worth going to jail to make my point. Hmmm...decisions, decisions.

Update - The husband tried to get out of he hole he had dug himself into by saying, "If she were mine, she would be locked up."

So not helping your case dood.

I should be banned from all staff meetings.

I'm usually pretty quiet in staff meetings. I keep my comments to myself until after when the little groups break apart into their more intimate bitch sessions. Today was another story. I had serious difficulty in keeping my comments to myself today when it came to discussing the merger/layoffs. Granted they were whispered to my friend sitting next to me, but still.....

Co-worker: I wonder what kind of morale booster they will have.

Me: cattle prod.

Co-worker: I'm sure they could come up with a really nice morale booster.

Me: oh...scented cattle prod.

She started rolling & I was laughing so hard I drooled on the table. Everyone else in the meeting was wondering what was wrong with us, especially when she got up to get me a tissue to wipe the table. Cuz no one wants to put their hands in someone else's spit, no matter how funny the joke was that caused it to be there. I think the department head was glad for the 5 weeks where I missed the staff meetings.

It's totally OK if it itches in public.

I was reading a post from this awesome blog I recently started following. The part about a toddler complaining about poopie in her ba'gina got me thinking (after I got up from rolling around on the floor of course).

The sperm donor's sister had a wonderful son John James. One day many many many MANY years ago, she caught him scratching his boy parts. Really diggin in there, apparently. The following conversation is just too GAWD DAMN FUNNY to be made up:

Susie: John, don't scratch yourself there!

John James: But it itches mommy!

Susie: Well.........just don't scratch it in public.

John James: But what if it ITCHES IN PUBLIC?????

Obviously this happened before puberty set in and his brain migrated to his boy parts & lost the ability to think of these things, ask them, or even give a rats ass about them (and any men reading this,you know you were snickering before you decided to be all offended).

Kids totally rock.