Moderately Bitchy Mind

7 - MY GIGANTIC MISTAKE

2012-01-19T15:59:00.004-05:00

I was still living with Dad, and still attending my friend's kid's football games. I even bought a new car. A little bit sooner than I had planned, but it worked out. Something was still missing. I wanted some kind of relationship.

In November 2010, I reconnected with N. I had met him a few years earlier at physical therapy and we just sort of drifted apart. Nothing major. Now that I had the internet back, I was always looking for something to get into. On Veteran's Day, I found that something. Little did I know how wrong it would be.

I hung out with N that night and we went to a few places, drinking many beers and getting free dinners. It was a fun time, I'm not gonna lie. I started hanging out with him more and more, sleeping over at his place, spending MY money. He didn't have a job either, so we could sleep all afternoon and drink all night.

The more I stayed with N, the more upset dad got. He finally told me to get my shit and get out of his house. That was fine, I would just stay with N, until we found a place together. We weren't intimate, just friends, but I still thought of him as my boyfriend. I guess in girl world that doesn't seem as ridiculous as it sounds.

He and I shared one major thing in common, back pain. He introduced me to pain medication and anti-anxiety medication. Holy shit! This stuff was awesome! I finally felt good, and normal! Why wouldn't my doctor prescribe this to me? Oh yeah, because I didn't have insurance and the VA was my primary care provider.

In December, we were given* (for $100) the name and address of a pain clinic that accepted new, out of state patients without a referral. This place was in Georgia. So one day, we packed up and drove there. The process took all day, but I was finally seen and given the prescriptions we drove down there for. Finding a pharmacy to fill the prescriptions, on the other hand, was a complete bitch! Apparently this "pain clinic" was a joke and the "doctor" was being investigated by the DEA. Well fucking fab!

After finally finding a few different locations to get my meds filled, we were broke. I mean, I was broke. (he never had any money.) He was able to make friends with a couple from the pain clinic and they let us stay in their hotel room with them. The next day, N sold some of my meds to the nice couple for travel money and I pawned some of my jewelry for the rest to get us back home.

When we got back to his place, he started selling more of my medication. His grandmother didn't like what was going on and they argued and he and I left. We got a hotel room for a few days, just down the street.

He kept doing what he was doing and I just kind of sat by and watched. He fronted one guy, D, a few pain pills, only he never paid up. I was tasked to call and threaten him, by saying I would let the police know about his hit and run earlier that day. This was all going wrong.

D came by the room earlier to leave his CD collection as collateral until he could come up with the money he owed us. N & I agreed to never let him in the room again. We met him outside to get his CDs, then he came by later and knocked on our hotel room door. I was in the bathroom at the time, or I would have answered the door. Instead, N answered the door and things got raw.

I just finished washing my hands, when I opened the bathroom door and a gun was pointed at my face. I was ordered to strip, put my clothes back on, then to get out of the bathroom and in the main room with everyone else. Everyone else included myself, N, his friend J, D and two masked men, one wielding a gun. The two masked men made everyone, except D, undress and give them our cell phones. They shouted they wanted our money and our drugs. The only drugs I had possession of were what I refer to as my "crazy pills" and they took most of those, along with my laptop, cellphone and purse, which I tried to fight them for. (Hey, it's a gal's purse. Do not fuck with a chick and her purse! ) But I let go and they ran off. I called the police, then ran after them. I know it's crazy, but I wanted to see if they were on foot or in a getaway car. Anything I could give the police.

I ran into one of the hotel clerks out back in the parking lot and she said she didn't see or hear anything. I walked around front and met a slew of local police officers. I talked to a few and described what went on. While giving my statement, I realized I couldn't say N was selling my meds, because, well that's illegal, and I didn't want him to go to jail so I made something up.

The police all left, eventually and we went to sleep. The next day I had to borrow N's car so I could drive to my dad's and pick up a spare key to my car, and a spare purse. Since I always clip my keys to my purse, when the robbers took my purse, they took my car keys as well. While I was out, I got a replacement phone and tried calling the room the entire time I was on my way back, but the line was busy. I was trying to tell N, he should get our things and get out of the room.

He was still on the phone when I got back to the room, talking to the police about the robbery. Not long after he hung up, there was a knock at the door and it was the police. This time, they were there to arrest N, for some outstanding warrant or fine or something. I have no idea. They took him away, and there I was, lonely, scared, broken and broke. How did this happen? How did I let my life get so out of control? I was such an idiot!

6 - AND THEN IT WAS 2010

2012-01-19T15:22:00.003-05:00

I had pretty much given up on the idea of ever having a "normal" life. I had succumbed to suck. I expected life to consist of being poor, overly dramatic and extremely verbally abusive. I couldn't change it, so I adapted and tried to deal with it. I became emotionally withdrawn so the screaming of hurtful words wouldn't cut so deep. Mind you, at times I screamed back and when I did, they were golden zingers. I'm kind of an expert at being snarky, but the snark only escalated the arguing and never diffused it. I learned later, to just keep all the snark to myself, or express it later on facebook or twitter.

Having a relationship with anyone was never even on my mind. How could it be? I was almost 34, with no job and living with my dad. There were a lot of nights when I cried myself to sleep and a lot of days wishing I could just drink and forget about my situation.

At the end of March my favorite Uncle died. The poor man had so many health problems and his heart just couldn't take it any more. He was my dad's younger brother and it effected him tremendously. T's death caused turmoil within my already dysfunctional family. My dad, his younger sister and her husband all ended up fighting over T's things. Of course dad was being paranoid, thinking they were damaging or taking the things that dad had claimed as his and he ended up flipping out on their last trip to T's apartment. He got them to pull over at a truck stop, just outside of town and got out of the car, then called me to come pick him up. Later that day, they dropped off the last of what was left in T's apartment.

We still had to go through the funeral arrangements according to T's last wishes. Since he died across state lines, it was hell trying to get his death certificate, but eventually everything worked out and we were able to put him to rest and he was finally at peace.

Throughout the past year, I began to pray on a daily basis. Not only for myself and my situation, but mainly for others. During the first week of April, it seemed my praying had paid off. I received a decision from the VA regarding my disability appeal. They had awarded me 100%, which, according to a lot of people, is pretty rare. I was awarded 3 month's back pay and was finally able to see the light.

I was able to pay back money that I owed after borrowing it from Mr.B, because my car had been repossessed about a month prior. I was able to buy a big new flat screen LCD tv and new clothes! I could finally buy makeup NOT from the dollar store! Hey, it's the little things.

I could go out to eat with my friends and pay for their meal, I could go out and drink! I was excited, but cautious. I had to form a plan. Since dad & I were on section 8 to help with the rent, I had to notify them and the food stamp office of the change in my income. With section 8, I had 3 months to decide if I wanted to move out on my own or stay with dad, and be removed from the program.

I had been so used to living with dad, the exhausting arguments and continuous belittling, I decided to stay with him and help pay the rent & bills. My plan was to wait until my Social Security Disability decision, then move out so I could afford to pay for his rent AND my rent. Only things didn't work out the way I planned.

I kept getting denial letters from the Social Security office and finally had to hire an attorney to help me. By now, I was going out 3-4 times a week, by myself, drinking, usually margaritas. This helped me cope with my living situation. Usually, after drinking a pitcher or two of yummy margaritas, I would go drunk shopping. Stupid, yes, but also fun.

5 - FIGHTING THE SYSTEM

2012-01-19T14:58:00.003-05:00

It seemed like a quick eternity had passed since I had lost my job a year ago. I was alive with a roof over my head and food to eat. There were small bright spots in my life of suck, but mostly suck. Like eating. Dinner became my one meal of the day. I would have coffee in the morning and Dad would be ready for dinner around 4pm. Yes, seriously. Sometimes he would even want to eat earlier than that. I saw my life turn into the Early Bird Special. The only good thing about eating one meal a day is the tremendous amount of weight I lost. The bad thing, was listening to my tummy cry for food every night.

I was slowly getting myself in check. I hadn't worked for a year and it was time to do something about my situation. Most of the ideas came from my therapist and sometimes my Psychiatrist would utter a sentence that didn't make me want to crawl in a hole.

I filed for, and received food stamps, which helped tremendously. Before, I had been too proud, and quickly learned to get over myself. I needed food and couldn't afford it, so I gladly accepted the food stamp card and anything they were willing to give me.

The next item on my agenda was filing for an appeal to my VA disability decision. When I was discharged in 2001, I filed for disability with the Veteran's Administration, and received 30% disability. That extra money each month kept my ass afloat for a number of months. Now, I was being told by my psychiatrist to appeal that decision, so I did.

I can't tell you how I started this process, or how I even completed it. I just know I did. My mind is like a sponge. It absorbs as much as it can, then quickly gets rung out, forgetting pretty much everything that was there, only remembering bits and pieces, not necessarily in chronological order.

Once I completed the VA stuff, I filed for Social Security Disability. If you have never filed for Disability, it is a major pain in the ass! The application process is a grueling as taking the SAT, only the questions are about your life, job & medical history. This is when I found out that I had obtained and lost 17 jobs in the past 15 years. Let that sink in for a minute. Yeah, you don't feel like such a loser now, do ya?

4 - FIGHTING DEPRESSION

2012-01-19T14:36:00.003-05:00

I couldn't have made it through the next 5-6 months without my friends. They were always there to listen to me vent. They had kids in sports which let me volunteer at their games, which in turn got me out of the house.

I didn't care what I had to do, I did what needed to be done, so long as it got me away from crazy town (aka: dad's house). Most of the time I worked concessions for the middle school football games, sometimes I worked the gate to collect entrance fees. I was always guaranteed to be out of the house for a couple of hours to work these games, which was awesome, for me. Dad started to get paranoid and accused me of "whoring around". That was great. I never went anywhere, but the one place I did go, I was accused of lying about it. I could understand how one would confuse my attending a middle school function and being a town whore from my attire of khaki shorts and team t-shirt. #rollseyes

Soon, high school football started, and I spent most of my Friday nights cheering on N's nephew, who was a senior. I went to as many games as my pocketbook would allow, tailgating with the parents, and cheering for my high school alma mater. I felt happy and relieved, and only a tiny bit creepy that I was the only one there without kids.

3 - LIFE, DEFEATED

2012-01-19T14:04:00.003-05:00

With Spring and Summer quickly approaching, I tried to think of things that would get me out of the house and away from the crazy. See, my dad is a drama queen(?) and extremely paranoid. About everything. He also has dementia. So when he can't remember where he put something, he gets paranoid and thinks that I did something to it. Arguing ensues. I leave.

Since I was always strapped for cash, I would usually go for a walk, ending up at my friend D's house, or I would go to the library. Once I found out about True Blood, I watched the whole first season just in time to catch the beginning of season 2. While watching season 1, I realized that the series was based on the Sookie Stackhouse books, it was ON! I went to the library on a mission to find the books and read them in order. Unfortunately, our local library is just pathetic and sad. With the little bit of money I had saved, I ordered the box set from Amazon.

I was set. I had plenty of book reading to keep my mind off how much life sucked and I could go anywhere and read. Then I made a costly mistake. I left the boxed set of books sitting on my coffee table, in plain sight and Dad saw them. Quizzically he asked about the titles of the books, in which all the titles have the word "dead". I tried to explain the books in a light-hearted kind of way, but as soon as I mentioned vampires, werewolves and witches, he was not having it. Not in his house! And they were ordered removed from the premises.

Let me explain. When I was in high school, my friends and I saw the movie "The Craft" and we wanted to be witches. We played around with it, bought some spell books and silly stuff like that but never took it seriously. Dad found my books and ordered them out of the house because "they cause bad luck!" He is extremely religious. He watches his crazy, cable access pastor on a daily basis and he will not have anything "sinful" in his home! You heard me. I could not even drink any kind of alcohol in his house. I know! (I'll explain how I got around this, later.)

The one thing that gave me a small amount of joy was now banished from my home. Of course I still read the books, I just put different book jackets on the outside of them and could not read them peacefully and in the open. I hid a few books in the back of my dresser and took the rest down to my friend N's house for her to babysit. I would switch out completed books for the unread ones until I was finished with the set. I felt like I was sneaking crack into a prison cell, but they were just books. To me. To my dad, they were blasphemy.

2 - ANOTHER ONE OPENS, A LITTLE

2012-01-19T13:34:00.005-05:00

It didn't take long for me to settle into Dad's place. After all, it's the same home I grew up in. I never thought, in a million years that I would end up back there. Actually I did think it. More like I had nightmares about it. I still do.

Here I was, about to turn 33 and I was living back home with my dad and nothing to show for my life. I was sinking into a deep depression. I felt the worst about what I was doing to my kitty cats, Elton & Johnny. They went from having a whole apartment to themselves, to having to share everything with my dad's 5 cats. I could tell they wanted out of there as much as I did. I felt like such a loser.

I still tried, day after day, to find a job only eventually giving up. Not finding work was just depressing me even more. With my dad controlling my life now, I couldn't stay up late and had to get up early every morning, because that was his schedule and my sleeping in late was ruining his daily routine of doing, um, stuff. I was tasked with cleaning every day. If there is one thing you seriously need to know about me, I HATE CLEANING! I hate it more than flesh eating spiders! Okay, maybe not that badly, but I do hate it. I have to be in the mood to clean, for instance, if I'm watching Hoarders, I get the urge to clean for some reason.

My daily routine was get up, go outside to smoke a ciggie (yes, outside and it sucked) sweep the upstairs and the stairs, and every other day, mop and dust. How did I survive this nightmare of suck? I. Have. No. Idea. I tried to twitter as much as I could, and I think that gave me some sanity. But as a form of punishment, my dad cancelled the internet service. See, that which he does not understand, ie: computers, he finds threatening. Since he had no idea what I would be doing on my laptop all afternoon, he thought I was doing something "bad" or "wrong."

Without an internet connection, I had an excuse to leave the house and go to the library. Only the connection at the library was seriously restricted. I couldn't use facebook and had a hard time getting my twitter to work. That defeated the whole purpose of me wanting the internet. SHIT!!!

#lostwithouttwitter #nohope

1- WHEN ONE DOOR CLOSES

2012-01-19T12:58:00.005-05:00

After taking a long hiatus from blogging and writing, I was recently inspired to write after reading A Walk In The Snark. Why was I inspired? Well, read the damn book and you'll find out. Also, realizing that I had a lot to share had a little to do with it. Just a little.

Let me take you back to November of 2008. I had an awesome apartment, a cool, well paying job, and life was pretty decent. Okay, so the job was pretty annoying. Actually it was the people I worked with who were annoying, the job part was actually not bad. I had gotten in trouble a few times regarding my attitude, well, because I don't like being treated like I'm not good enough, or like I'm a dumb ass.

One afternoon, after work, I was getting in my car to go to a physical therapy appointment (I have major back problems; long story) only I couldn't go anywhere. See, the parking situation at work was completely jacked. We had to park around the back of the building like we were all waiting in line at a drive thru. First one in is the first to leave, and so on and so forth. Since I was one of the last to arrive, I was near the back of the line of cars. There were two cars parked behind me and I was in a bit of a hurry to get the hell out of there. Myself and another lady were trying to back out of the cluster fuck of this parking sitch, only one car was preventing us. I got on my cell and called the after hours number so I could get in touch with the girl and have her move her car. Long story short, I hurt someone's feelings during that phone call and was sacked the following day.

Normally, being fired is no biggie for me. I usually find a job pretty quickly and move on with life. Only this time, the economy was in the shitter and there were no jobs to be found. The jobs that WERE there, were being fought for by hundreds of applicants. For the next 3 months, my job became looking for a job. In the beginning I was a little selective about what jobs I applied for. After a month of interviews and zero jobs, I started applying for every job I found. Still nothing. I couldn't even get a call back from McDonald's! How embarrassing!

It didn't take long for my money to disappear. Rent, bills, fuel for my car, oh and food, my checking account was as empty as my tummy. I finally broke down and realized I couldn't do this any more. I wasn't going to find a job, and I didn't have enough money to pay for another month of rent or bills.

That's when I did it. I broke down and called my dad. I told him what happened and that I needed to come home. Please understand, this was the absolute last thing in the world I ever wanted to do. I'm sure some of you understand, and other's are probably thinking, "Big deal. Living with your parent's isn't all that bad. At least you'll have a place to stay!" Yeah. To those of you who think that, you have never met my father. And once you did, you'd eat those words. You would eat those words and like it!

Don't get me wrong, I love my dad. He had a hard job of raising me on his own and worked really hard his whole life trying to keep the bills paid and clothes on my back. We just have a toxic kind of relationship. Have you ever seen what Sulfuric acid does to, well, anything? He's the sulfuric acid in this analogy. He gets in my mind and breaks me down, eating to the core of my soul until nothing can comfort me, except a pitcher of margaritas.

After telling him my situation, he agreed to let me move back and began to take control of my life. A big snow/ice storm was headed toward us and he wanted me moved out of the apartment before that hit. The only problem was my lack of funds. I wouldn't have enough money to move until a week after he wanted me to move. Alas, my ideas didn't mean shit anymore, and this was something I needed to get used to.

Moving was the worst experience imaginable. How bad was it? Imagine all the catty Real Housewives in one room, all yelling at you, but they are in the form of one man, my dad. Oh my GOD! What have I done?!?

#despairdespair #someonekillmenow

Why Not Me? - 23 Nov 10

2010-11-23T20:46:00.002-05:00

Why can't it ever be just about me? Why can't I ever be the one that person can't stop thinking about? Why is love always a one way street? Why is loving so easy, but being in love so hard?

Yes I'm bitching today. I deserve a good bitch fest right along with a good cry fest. Things I don't understand are getting to me and I just break down.

I had an anxiety attack today. Everything was fine. I was sleeping next to a great guy then the phones start ringing and the yelling from outside started. The mother of his child and said child were outside. No biggie, I was worried something was wrong, but he went down to take care of it while I stayed upstairs, mind wandering.

A short while passes and he comes to put some clothes on. I ask if he's leaving, he says no. I ask for one thing, to please bring my purse to me. He does not do that.

Hours go by and I feel trapped in this room. I wanted my purse because I keep EVERYTHING in there and I don't know his baby mama, so I didn't want to give her the chance to get her grubby little paws in it.

My friends started calling my phone, yet no one brought me my purse. Oh no, but the bitch did answer my phone. What the fuck is THAT about? Well, shit, she's got to my phone, so she's been searching through my purse. All but one muscle relaxer was gone, so she took about 6. I was missing about $80 which isn't bad because it could have been worse.

Oh, I got to my purse, because the phone rang and I went to give it to him, but no one was there. He left. Didn't tell me, just left. This made me feel so embarrassed, ashamed, hurt, lonely, and worthless. Also I was angry. Angry with him and angry with myself.

I try to call him, but no answer. I try again and again and again. Nothing. Now the phone is turned off. I was in my car, not paying attention and almost hit someone head on because I was in the wrong lane. I pull over and just cry. Why had I let myself fall into this again? I thought older meant wiser?

I pull myself together and drive back to his place and talk on the phone to a friend. While talking to her, I see his relative leaving and ask if he was home yet. She comes over to talk to me and said I could go in and wait for him and we talk about what happened today. She knows I feel hurt and talks to me for a few minutes. That made me feel a little better.

I go inside and sit for a few minutes and talk to another friend about what happened and he shows up. He can tell I'm pissed and starts making excuses and doesn't get why I'm so angry. I didn't know how to explain why I was so angry, so I just did my best. He said he understood and was apologetic. He was also apologetic for bitchface going into my purse and answering my phone. At the time I didn't know money or my meds were missing.

Then I sat down to really ask him what he thought of me. He didn't seem to know how to answer it. I told him that I cared about him and I think the problem with me today was that I let myself care too much and it hurt when I didn't get a second thought. He said he cared about me, but I just don't know. I think it's more in the "hey buddy" kind of way and I look at it as the "hey baby" kind of way. And it hurts to think that way.

I just needed to vent because I feel alone and unloved right now. I just needed to feel sorry for myself for a few minutes. I'll get over it once my medication starts kicking in.

Manic Panic is OUT!! - 4 Oct 10

2010-10-04T18:43:00.005-04:00

So, after two and a half weeks of trying and trying to get the blue then green out of my hair, I thought I had it mastered when I colored my hair brown. Well, parts of it had a greenish tint to it, but it wasn't that visible.

You'd think I'd be happy with that, right? Nope. I was mad that my golden hair and blonde highlights were gone. So I get a highlight kit, and pull my hair through the cap and apply the mixture to my hair and wait. I figure if I wait long enough, it will just bleach my hair to a light light blonde, well I was half right. I pulled off the plastic wrap around my head and my highlighted hair was green, like a lime green. Aww fuck!

I rinsed my hair, shampooed and conditioned and dried and yep, my hair was bright green instead of bright blonde. I take my complaints to the interweb on twitter, where a follower suggested I try the shampoo Prell and mix baking soda, equal parts, together then wash my hair with that.

The next day I want to the gym then tanning bed and afterwards went to Rite Aid and got the needed ingredients. A box of Arm & Hammer and a bottle of Prell. I race home and make the mixture, when it too becomes a lime green. Aww double fuck! Taking a chance, I shampooed my hair with the concoction and low and behold it worked! It took the green out of my hair! Granted I had to condition my hair for about 15 minutes so it wouldn't feel like hay, but still. It looks of normal color now!! Of course, now is when dad says something to me about my hair, like "Aren't you aware of what you're doing when you mess with your hair?" Oh shut up! If I was aware, I wouldn't have made so many mistakes! Der.

So, to get manic panic residue out of your hair, use 1 tbl spoon Prell shampoo 1 tbl spoon baking soda, mix together to get a greenish paste then wash hair. I left the mixture in my hair for 10 minutes, for extra insurance. You need to condition, deep condition your hair after you wash the shampoo out or your hair will be fried! It'll probably be a good idea to trim a little off the ends if you can, just to get rid of the fried dead ends after all the processing.

DYE ANOTHER DAY - 30 Sept 10

2010-09-30T18:29:00.005-04:00

Well mother fucking shit. My hair still has a light green tint to it, no matter how much of the UnColor I use. While, yes, it got a lot of it out, and I am grateful, it didn't remove all of the Blue Manic Panic from my hair. At least no one said anything to me about my hair being a weird color today, so that's a plus.

So what do I do now? Deal with it? Fuck that shit. I went to Sally Beauty Supply again today. There was a different girl working this time, thank GOD, because I didn't want a confrontation about that other shit not working well. Which was partially my fault since I don't own a sit under dryer.

This time I bought a packet of powder of the UnColor, for permanent color, a bottle of creme color and activator. That's right, I'm going to try to color over this bullshit green. It's in my hair right now, and is supposed to stay in for 35 minutes.

Before I colored, I snipped a strand of green from my hair and mixed up the powder packet to test it on my hair. If that UnColor worked, I really wouldn't need to dye my hair a normal color. But it didn't work. In fact, the strand looked greener when I rinsed it out! Fucking hell! I'm glad I did a strand test for that shit! I'm also doing a strand test for the hair color, but was too impatient to wait 35 minutes before I put it on my own hair. I know, I may be sorry. But that's the thing, if my hair turns out no different, or still green, well, I'll just have to fucking deal with it, won't I? After all, I did this to myself and I will never ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER, FUCKING EVER, use manic panic on my hair ever again!

So heed my warning, if you ever get a wild hair to turn your hair a funky shade of off the wall blue, red, pink, purple, black, green, whatever, use a temporary GEL or SPRAY that WASHES OUT IMMEDIATELY! Because manic panic will never come out completely. I am pretty sure of this. Even though it says semi/demi/temporary, whatever, it's NOT! Only the vibrance is temporary, another, shitty faded shade is permanent.

I guess I'll let you know how my hair turns out when I rinse and condition my hair.

*I'm baaaack!!! Well, my hair is now an ugly brownish color, but most of the green is gone.

I say "most" because there are still small twinges of green if you look really close. Well I'm done fucking with my hair for now, but I read on a site that to try using Prell shampoo mixed with #20 peroxide gel (found in your beauty store like Sally's) then mesh it in your hair, leave it in for about 20-30, then rinse out. That should get rid of your manic panic. If all else fails, just dye over it. Good luck!

GET THAT MANIC PANIC OUTTA MY HAIR - 29 Sept 10

2010-09-29T12:44:00.012-04:00

On September 18th, I thought it would be an awesome idea to dye my hair blue for the Colt's game the following day. It did look pretty sweet, and everyone I tailgated with at the game thought it looked cool too, especially the kids.

I thought it would be a cool thing to do, since Manic Panic© is temporary hair dye, it will just wash right out. Sure it might take a few washes, but it would come out. Right? WRONG! That is so fucking wrong I don't even know how wrong it is, but it's way wrong.

I wash my hair the next day, a couple of times and some blue rinses out, yet my hair is still blue. Tuesday I do the same thing, only it turns a lighter shade of blue. For the next few days I wash my hair twice a day and all it does is turns my hair a lighter shade of blue. Friday, my hair now looks teal. I tried to find tips and tricks online, and only came up with mixing shampoo with some peroxide to get it out. Nope. Didn't work. My hair still looks teal or aqua, almost green. I tried washing my hair and leaving the shampoo on for 10 minutes, nothing. I tried washing my hair with laundry detergent and it just made my hair squeaky clean and hard, so I had to deep condition that shit.

I walk out of the tanning bed Monday and a guy driving by stops and asks me if I knew my hair was green. Thanks fucknuts, as if I didn't have a complex already by people asking me why my hair was blue/teal/green, you have to make it a point to stop your vehicle and ask me if I knew my hair was an oddball color. Really? Go fuck yourself, douche fuck.

Tuesday I had to go to the VA for an appointment, with teal hair. At least no one there said anything to me about it. Wednesday, 10 days later, while at the gym, a lady said my hair went from blue to a greenish color. What happened? Oh fuck everyone! I'm so sick of this shit, I go to Sally Beauty supply and look for some Color Opps! from L'Oreal but couldn't find it. I ask the lady if there was anything I could use to get this shit out and she showed me a little teal/greenish bottle made specifically for temporary/demi hair dye removal.

As I type this, I'm sitting here with that stuff lathered in my hair and a cap on my head with high hopes that as soon as I wash it out, my hair will be back to normal. So, I'm going to log off and go wash it out then update the blog with my results.

*I'm back. As I exited the shower, I kept my eyes averted from my hair. I wanted to be surprised. I got dressed, brushed my hair then looked in the mirror. I could tell that parts of my hair still had a bluish/green tint. Shit!

I dried my hair and noticed that most of the color was gone, but some still remained in the front, which is the lightest part of my hair. Great.

So, here I am on round two, to try and get the rest of this shit out of my hair. It would have probably all came out the first time if I had the necessary tools. The directions say to sit under a pre-heated hair dryer for 30 minutes. The girl at Sally Beauty Supply told me to leave it in for 15 minutes. Well, being that I don't own a sit-under kind of hair dryer, I applied some heat with a regular hair dryer and left it on for 25 minutes.

This go around, I will try leaving it on for a little longer. Once I lathered my hair, I applied heat from my blow dryer for a little longer, then applied the cap over my hair. I hope this next time works because I'm getting tired of washing and drying my hair so many damn times a day. I'll be back with another update as soon as I get this taken care of. UGH. Pain in the ASS!

**Well attempt number two is out of the way and my hair looks slightly less green than the above pic, but I'm not gonna lie, that shit is still in there. Only now, it looks like light green streaks in my hair and it doesn't look greenish/teal all over. At least I feel somewhat normalish now with regular colored hair, for the most part, and a bit freaky with the green streaks.

This go round, I put the shit in my hair, lathered it up and blowed it dry for a few minutes, put the cap on my head and sat for 35 minutes. Before I rinsed, I blowed it dry for a few more minutes then rinsed, washed & conditioned. Next time I'm leaving that shit in my hair for a fucking hour, by GOD!

I'll admit I'm a bit disappointed, but hey, at least my hair no longer looks like an Oompa Loompa.

The Silent Treatment - 14 Sept 2010

2010-09-14T20:33:00.002-04:00

Well it's been a few months since I last wrote and ironically not much has changed. Dad is still being a whiny little bitch ass and I still have to deal with his crabby assed drama. Right now he is giving me the silent treatment because we had an argument over the weekend and he threatened to move out, again. Now when I talk to him, he just nods his head, yes or no. It's kind of nice, but a bit annoying when you try to have a conversation with someone.

I still have no job. I've pretty much given up on the idea that I will become employed by anyone, ever. I am still trying to get social security disability, but those hard nosed fuckdogs keep denying me. This time I've hired a lawyer. Well, not technically hired. If I win my case they get money, if not, I don't pay them shit, which is good because they are expensive. I figure I should qualify for disability with social security since I am considered 100% disabled with the military. I told the attorney that I could give a shit less about getting the money, of which the amount is laughable, I just want the health insurance. If I had medicaid or medicare, I wouldn't have to go to the fucking VA every time I needed to see a doctor, but instead get stuck with a third rate has been who was last in their graduating class and a serious lack of bedside manner.

So here I sit, watching tv, which is basically my nightly routine. Well, in the summer I don't have much of a tv routine since so many shows come and go and aren't worth clicking "view" on the remote guide. Most of my days consist of my getting up and going to the gym for an hour or so, then the tanning bed. I come home, *clean the house, then think of something to do to get me out of the house again so I'm not stuck inside this waft of uncomfortableness. If I can't think of anything I usually take a nap, then start dinner (if dad is eating) around 4:30. I say, if he's eating, because usually when he's mad at me, he will refuse to eat anything I cook. After I eat I either watch tv or play online unless my friend's son has a football game, or I feel like going out to drink. Depending on how my day has been, sometimes I'm in a desperate need for a few drinks. That means, if Dad is being a crybaby bitch and screaming at me like a banshee, I'll need to unwind and forget the torment that I live in.

What's funny about these arguments that he and I have is that he always blames me for it. I'm the one who never does anything around the house, like clean (*please see above paragraph.) I'm also the one who instigates the silent treatment, and is very mean and hurtful to him. I find that all laughable since I'm the one who's always getting yelled at and treated with silence when I try to be nice.

On a brighter note, I'm excited about next Sunday. I'm going to Indianapolis for the Colts/Giants game. I'm SO excited I can hardly stand it. I'm going to paint my nails blue, color my hair blue, dress in my colts gear and tailgate all day! I've got the magnets for my car, and a colts flag, my hotel room and my tickets ready! I plan on getting up there around 2pm, partying until 7, then getting to my seat in time for the pre-game excitement! Hmm, partying from 2-7 doesn't really seem like long enough, maybe I should get there around noon or 1? Hell, by Saturday I'll be wanting to leave at midnight so I can get there early enough! LOL Well fuck, anything to get me out of the house a day early would be awesome. THEN, in October, I'm taking a friend with me to another Colts game. It will be exciting, but we won't have as much time to tailgate since the game starts at 1. I'm thinking about going to a game in November, but haven't gotten tickets yet. Since the Colts first game was a bust, I'll have to see how they do before I get another ticket. I might be able to get a ticket for cheap if they start sucking this year! lol

I'm going to try to write more blogs, but I'll have to start kicking my ass to get motivated. Since I'm not doing anything, I might not have much to say for a while, but then again, I'll have plenty of time to write about nothing.

NEW CAR, OLD WOES - 13 July 2010

2010-07-13T19:52:00.004-04:00

I admit, I know I haven't been an avid, daily blogger that I once was, but I haven't had much to really write about here lately. Since I'd rather not trouble my twitter followers 140 characters at a time, or spill my guts on facebook, I figured it was time for me to blog the bullshit.

A few months ago I was awarded 100% disability from the VA for my medical conditions. This helped solve my past year's money woes in a HUGE way. No longer did I have to worry about if I had money for gas or enough to pay the bills. I payed my debts, well, not all of them, but the most pressing. I started saving my money and was able to take a small vacation to Pensacola Beach, FL right before the oil washed up on shore.

That solo trip did a number on my poor little car. My a/c wasn't working as well and my car started riding rough. I sent her to the shop, but it seemed that was only a temporary fix. When the a/c was on, it worked great, but my car sounded horrible and vibrated harder than a super charged dildo.

Back when I first received my money, Dad and I talked about my getting a new car. I didn't think much of it at the time because I loved my car and it was running just fine. Well after shit started getting worse, I decided to start seriously looking at cars again.

I spent one afternoon and looked around, but with my current car showing as having been repossessed, it was difficult to be financed, regardless of my income. So I took to the internet and kept searching. Every time I saw a commercial about pre-owned cars, I went to their website and browsed their SUVs. That's what I wanted this time, an SUV. They are roomier, have more power, and are a little tougher than a regular car.

One website had a few cars that I liked, so I emailed them my information and the next day, got a call from one of the salesmen. I told him about my credit troubles and he seemed confident that he could find something for me and get me financed. We made an appointment to meet that Friday afternoon to look around and see what we could come up with.

Thursday, the 8th, I drove down to my friend's to start house sitting for the week, since they were leaving for vacation. Friday I got up, got something to eat and headed to the dealership. It was a shitty, rainy day, so I didn't have any expectations that I would find a car I loved and wanted right away.

The salesman drove me around to show me some of the SUVs and I told him what I had in mind. I was hoping for maybe a Jeep Grand Cherokee, Ford Escape or something similar, preferable in Blue or a neutral color like white or grey. Well he showed me a gold Suzuki XL7. I didn't want it because it was gold. I know, sounds petty, but I couldn't help it. Then he asked if I wanted to drive it, so I did.

I don't know if it was because the car was so much newer than what I had been used to driving or if it was because it was just nice, but I really liked the car. We decided to get my application started and see what we could come up with as far as payments. I decided that I couldn't make the decision that day and wanted my dad to check out the car. He said I could drive the car to Frankfort and let my dad check it out and see what he said.

So I drove the car to let my dad look at it and give me his opinion. He didn't like the color and that's pretty much all he said regarding the car. He then told me to give it a rest and not push buying a car. Then he said it was up to me because it would be my car.

See, the whole point of my driving to Frankfort was so I could get his opinion about the car. I wanted to take him for a drive, let him get a feel for it and tell me what he thought. What the hell did he do? Stand there, look at it, read the sticker, smoked a cigarette and told me I was rushing into things. UGH!

The salesman called and said he could get my payments between $265-$275/month and that sounded pretty damn reasonable to me, so I told him to proceed with the paperwork. On my way back, I called my insurance company to see what the damage would be if I were to purchase this vehicle. Only $30 more than what I was currently paying, so that's not bad.

On my way back, I decided that I really wanted this car. I was getting excited about the fact that I was about to own this car. I didn't think about much else, just getting things done and getting this car. I made it back to the dealership and finished the paperwork. A few minutes later, the car was mine.

I was pretty excited and nervous all at the same time. Fuuuuck!! My dad was gonna be pist! I went to my Saturn and cleaned all my stuff out & threw all the trash away, so I didn't look like a complete slob. Once I exchanged keys, got into my new car and started driving away I had a split second of regret. I almost cried. I was leaving behind what I knew, for something new. If you know me, you know how much I cringe at change. It's so comfortable staying with what you know, that the thought of change just scared me.

I drove off and was just a happy fucking little camper, driving back to my friends house to let the dogs out because I was sure they'd piss on the carpet if I didn't make it back soon. Then my dad called. He asked if I got my car back and said I should just wait to buy a car and I just rush into things. He said I was "rushy, rushy." Ohhhh, little did he know exactly how "rushy, rushy" I was.

At that point I went from excited and elated to worried and freaked the fuck out. Oh hell, what was I going to do? I couldn't tell him right then over the phone because he would have flipped out like Mel Gibson on a all nighter.

All weekend I did nothing but fester and suffer, worrying about how and when I was going to tell my dad. All the questions were answered for me when his doctor called me and set up an appointment for him Tuesday at 1:30. Well, I knew when, but how?

I stressed about this the entire morning I woke up and the entire ride to his house. I walked in, thankfully he wasn't outside, went downstairs to see him and he was already in a bad mood. Aww fuck! Turns out he thinks my cat pissed on the counter. Now, I've had one cat for 10 years and the other for 5 years. In this time, neither of them have ever done anything remotely like this. Sure they may be rotten little shits at times, but they know where and how to use the litter box.

So, he's pist at me because he thinks I'm a bad mommy, spoil my cats and don't discipline them. Uhh, right. My cats love me, they know better, they just might not like him. Maybe, if it WAS one of my cats, they were mad about me being gone? Who knows. Maybe it's one of his nasty bad assed cats? He says they never get on counters and shit, well he's never SEEN them, but I have.

Anyway, we walk upstairs to leave for his appointment and as he's grabbing the door handle, I ask him to please don't be mad at me. He looks at me all worried, opens the door then gets pissed off.

He starts saying how I never include him, ask for his opinion, blah blah blah, basically all the things I TRIED to do, but he didn't feel like doing. At the doctor's office he seemed to rotate from good mood to pist mood.

After the doctor, we went to a few different places all the while I get to hear him bitch about everything and of course, me. When I left he was still in a grumpy, pissy assed mood, but I felt so SO much better. At least I no longer felt like I was lying or hiding something from him, whether or not he was pist, at least he finally knew. Thank the FUCK!

While typing this blog, Dad called and apologized for being mister grumpy pants today. He said it was because he felt bad, and I knew that, but it felt good that he apologized to me.

Hopefully he likes my new car and if not, he can get over it, because I like it.

QUITCHER BITCHIN! - 25 MAR 10

2010-03-25T17:37:00.002-04:00

Yeah, yeah, I know it's been a while, a long while, since my last blog. Sorry, but with Twitter and Facebook updates, I really don't feel much need to blog the shit going on in my head because I update my status all day with the shit that's clogging my brain.

It's been a little over a year that I've been living with my dad and things haven't really changed much. Well they have, just from bad to worse.

Last month my car was repo'd by my bank because I was 53 days late on my payment. That was horror, since I only owed the stupid fucking bank under $900 left on my loan. It's not my fault I had been broke as fuck! Shit, I tried to tell them, but those money grubbing bitches don't give a fuck. That sent things spiraling downward, out of control. I had to come up with the payoff amount, plus the cost of the repossession fees, which ended being about $1400 all together.

Well, Dad got most of the money & I borrowed some from a friend of mine. We will be paying them back until Summer is half over. On top of that, I had to find someone to drive me to the repo place to check over my car, go to the bank, pay them, then go to back to the repo place and pay them, THEN back out in the middle of nowhere to get my car. Well I found a friend who wasn't doing anything and she took my dad & I all over the place that day. I still owe her like a gazillion favors.

Things seemed to be okay once I got my car back, then March happened. March has been the longest month ever. Seriously. My Birthday was the 8th and that turned out to be a shitty day, as usual. What made it shitty was, I didn't get any funds put on my food stamp card for the month. What? I'm broke & unemployed, bitch gotsta eat! Anyway, I had to call & find out what the fuck happened & my idiot case worker didn't let me know she was still waiting on me to furnish information from the housing authority about how much dad & I pay in rent and that we are responsible for our utilities. Well, when I was in her office during our meeting, in February, I called and got that information faxed to her. She said she never got it, so I had my friend fax it to her this time, knowing it'd get there.

That wasn't good enough, so I got dressed, went and got the info and took it to her myself, you know, so she couldn't say she didn't receive it this time. Bitch. I got my food stamps a few days later, and a week's less of funds for food. Dad was pissed at me because *I* am the one who fucked this up and it was MY fault we were both broke all month, because we had to start paying back the money we borrowed to get my car back.

Well, when I got my food stamps he was still mad at me and not talking to me. My sister met me at the store to give me a gift card and buy me cupcakes. I brought the cupcakes home & got one along with some ice cream & dad smashed the rest of them. He was mad because he thought *I* spent money on them.

The anger never stopped, so that Friday I got some shit & stayed with my friend for the night. Which was nice, but I was half mad because I had to listen to the UK game on the radio for the first half, instead of getting to watch it, but I stayed and watched it that Saturday then went home.

When I got home, things seemed to be better, but the next few days after that, the silent treatment was in effect. Dad wouldn't talk to me, so I asked if he was mad at me and he would say no. Then he made some bit shit stink about how I left that weekend, blah, blah, blah. Then I went outside to clean out my car and *BOING* the front coil spring on my car broke. FUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

The yelling commenced, like this shit was my fault, and we tried to figure out what to do. Since it was late Saturday afternoon, there wasn't much we could do until Monday. So, Monday morning, all fucking early, we got up and started talking about this shit. We were able to borrow some money, but had to walk to get it. I tried calling friends, but since it was Spring Break, no one could help, they were home with their kids. So, dad & I walked, in the cold rain, to get the check, then to my bank & cash the check. All in all, the walk was about 3 miles. It was about 3:30 so we couldn't do much else that day. Dad changed my tire, so when I had to drive it to get fixed, the broken spring wouldn't puncture my tire. The donut he put on my car was flat. Well i-fucking-magine that shit. He got our neighbor to take him to get air in the tire, then put it back on the car again.

The next morning, again very fucking earily, we went to get the used part, then take the car to get fixed. It took less than an hour, but things were fixed and aligned. The car was all better, but we now had even more to repay. We were left with just enough money to buy some food for the rest of the month and cigarettes for a few days. Now we are broke again and it's only March 25th, still 6 days left in this fucking month. At least I still have plenty of gas left in my car.

To cheer myself up, I went yesterday and got a chocolaty chocolate chip coffee drink from Starbucks, with a gift card a friend sent me for my birthday.

Things have since been calm and happy around the house, for now. We'll see how things go when the cats run out of food and dad runs out of sweets. Maybe I'll have to write another blog about that shit when it happens?

29 Dec 09 - WTF AM I DOING?

2009-12-29T13:22:00.002-05:00

I hate feeling like I do right now. I don't even know how to describe it. I'm just here. I'm uninterested in everything. I took a trip to the library to get out of the house for a while, plus I noticed the books I borrowed were about 6 days overdue, so I brought them back. Now I'm here and I'm just uninterested in being here. I want to go home, but I don't. There's nothing to do there either, just get online and bore myself. Plus Dad is in a shit mood today as well & the tension is pretty thick inside the house. I'd go home & lie down, but I'm not really tired. I tried to clean the house, but Dad told me not to. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? He told me I was gaining weight. Yay, I look super fat today. Well I feel it. It's Christmas time, aren't we supposed to gain a little weight over the holidays? Plus I'm bloated like a mother fucker because it's period time for me. So thanks. Thanks for letting me know I'm a huge lazy worthless fat ass. I would probably cry, but I don't feel like it. Frankly I don't feel much for showing any kind of emotion today. What the fuck is that about?

It's already 1:30pm and I could give two fucks less about today. I got up & showered early because my hair was greasy looking and I was probably starting to smell bad, as I hadn't showered since Saturday. I think it was Saturday. I get confused about what day it is anymore. I only know today is Tuesday because my clock told me so.

Blank. My mind is just blank. So are my emotions. I'm sitting in the very back corner of the library tables so no one can or has to, look at me unless they deliberately look my way. I really wanted to check out a book, but it hasn't been returned yet, so I don't know what the fuck to do now. I could search for other books, but I'm not interested in any of them. Aren't you glad you don't fucking feel like this? I mean seriously. I'm just a big blob of suck today. Plus I'm getting jittery due to the two enormous cups of coffee I had this morning. Now I'm feeling hyper & can't sit still in my chair. What do I do with this? Shake my leg? Okay.

I could type faster, but then I start to make mistakes and look like a fucking idiot. So my fingers are moving way slower than my brain right now. My brain is saying, "Oi, type this shit faster beeyotch!" But my fingers are all, "Fuck you brain. I'm not feeling the fast typingness right now." Actually my whole body isn't feel much of anything right now. My vision is kind of blurry too. More blurry than usual I suppose. I would take my contacts out & put my glasses on, but it's way too sunny out and that makes it a bitch to see. You ever tried driving in the sun without sunglasses on? It sucks. Not like I'll be doing much driving anyway. I wish I had a doctor's appointment today so I could drive there and back. Plus I could let them know how fucking shitty I feel today. Can't they give me better drugs to make me feel less like shit? Yeah, no they won't. They won't even give me anything for my fucking chronic back pain. Well nothing that works, anyway. They give me shit that tears up my stomach & I keep forgetting to ask for some pills to help settle my acid reflux. That's what wakes me up in the mornings.

Waking up with acid in my throat makes for a shitty way to start the day. I try to chew a few tums & lie back down but then my mouth feels like an icky dry iron sponge. So instead of swallowing the acid back down, I'm swallowing some irony tasting chalk. Yum!

I want to go home & watch some shows my TiVo recorded for me, but I don't think I'll be able to relax much there. Not with Dad being crabby & two girl cats being in heat meowing like sick cows, constantly. It doesn't bother me at first, the perpetual meowing, but after a few minutes I wish I were deaf. Then it gets worse when dad yells at the cat to cut it out. Like the cat knows what he's saying? They don't know what I'm saying when I tell them to shut up. But they do run from me when I get up & walk towards them. Then they find a safe place where I can't get to them and start their dying cow serenade again.

Bored again. Ugh. I feel like I want to get up and run around the library to shake these jitters, but I'd probably get kicked out for doing that. Plus I'd look pretty silly. People would think, "What the fuck kind of drugs is SHE on?" Some would probably wonder if they could get some of the shit I'm on. Others would think, "Aww poor thing has lost her damn mind." Of course that would be true. I feel like I HAVE lost my damn mind. I wish I could find it though. Where have you gone little sane mind of mine? Please to come back and visit for a while, won't you?

So I sit here, type at the sunny desk and stare out the window to the river. Yes I can type I look at other shit. Not like I can see it very well since my vision is blurry as fuck, but I can see the river better than I can the words on this screen. The farther away, the better, I suppose.

Now I don't know what to say, or type. I hear the clacking of nearby keyboards and beeping of someone scanning books or something. Then there's the constant humming of the heater, which is working very well, I might add. It's like a fucking sauna in here. I'm going to break out in a sweat in a few minutes, I just know it.

Great, my back is hurting more as I sit here in the wooden desk chair. The jitters are working their way up from my legs to my arms now. I'll start bouncing my leg to try and shake them off. I have to type slower or I'll be fucking up everything that I type. See? Well, no you don't because I used backspace to correct my errors. But if I didn't it'd look something like this. Well shit now I'm not making any mistakes. Great. That's how shit always goes, right? You make mistakes when no one is looking & when you want to make a mistake while you've directed attention to it, nothing ever happens. So now I just end up looking like a complete fucking moron who's lost her damn mind.

Oh yeah, Dad got mad at me the other day because I only had like $5 left out of the $50 he gave me the day before Christmas. Well I spent most of it on shit like rust proof spray paint for the underside of my car, for the muffler. Then I put gas in my car and I bought myself an orange pashmina for $10. On Christmas day I bought cigarettes too, so all of that left me with a bit over $5. He's mad because I didn't save it for other things around the house, like cat food. I'm pretty sure the cats have enough food until the first, but according to him I should have bought a small bag of food, just in case. I did buy a bag of litter for them though. I think he forgot about that. He spent $20 of his $50 on an iHome radio for my iPod, because I was going to buy it for myself, but decided against it since I didn't want to spend, or waste, the money. So he got it for me for a Christmas present. He shouldn't have, since he already got me a tv & snuggie for Christmas, I just got them a little earlier.

I'll check my phone to see if anyone's called. Nope. No missed calls. Even the bill collectors & late payment notifiers aren't calling today. Good. I don't want them to bother me. It's not like I have any money for them anyway. Fuck, if I did, they wouldn't need to call me.

I got a letter from the Disability Determination office today regarding the lack of response to my medical records request. A few facilities that had received the request had yet to deliver my medical records, so I called and asked wtf was going on. Turns out they claim to have mailed them out today. They better have. I need to get this shit going. They'll probably set me up to see one of their doctors or something. I hope, if they do schedule me an appointment, I feel like this when I go. Chances are I'll be having a good day & they'll think I'm fine! "Nothing's wrong with her!" That's what they'll think. I wonder if there's a way to induce my having shitty days like this? I don't know how it happens, it just does. If I call my psychiatrist and ask her to increase the dosage of one of my prescriptions, I'll probably feel pretty good. Then again, I don't know how well that shit is working if I still have fucked up days like this. I guess, not so well. Right?

Well at least the jitters seem to be subsiding for now. I really just want to go home, pop some popcorn & watch tv. But I can't do that. Dad will comment on how fat I am and how I don't need to be eating shit like popcorn, or something along those lines. I don't even know why I'd care, since I'm in a fuck all mood right now. My head feels like it's just floating on my shoulders. I feel like I'm not really here, but in some fucked up dream. I wish this were just some shitty dream. At least in a dream there'd be some hot guy I could talk to and I wouldn't have to worry about the consequences of my actions. Then again, when I'm driving a car in my dreams, the brakes seem to never work. So that's never good.

I guess I'll go poke around the self help section for some interesting shit to read. I just returned two books about being bipolar. I only read parts of them. I'm sure this blog is pretty fucking boring as it is. So that'll be all for now. I'll try to write more boring shit later.

12 Days of Christmas

2009-12-09T18:38:00.002-05:00

Partridge In A Pear Tree

By Ledya Putros

December 14th

Dearest John:

I went to the door today and the postman delivered a partridge in a pear tree. What a delightful gift. I couldn't have been more surprised.

With dearest love and affection, Agnes

***

December 15th

Dearest John:

Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine, two turtle doves.... I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are just adorable.

All my love, Agnes

***

December 16th

Dear John:

Oh, aren't you the extravagant one! Now I must protest. I don't deserve such generosity. Three french hens. They are just darling but I must insist.... you're just too kind.

Love Agnes

***

December 17th

Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really! They are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough? You're being too romantic.

Affectionately, Agnes

***

December 18th

Dearest John:

What a surprise! Today the postman delivered five golden rings. One for each finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, John, all those squawking birds were beginning to get on my nerves.

All my love, Agnes

***

December 19th

Dear John:

When I opened the door there were actually six geese-a-laying on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again, huh? Those geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. PLEASE STOP!

Cordially, Agnes

***

December 20th

John:

What's with you and those birds???? Seven swans-a-swimming. What kind of joke is this? There's bird do-do all over the house and they never stop the racket. I'm a nervous wreck and I can't sleep all night. IT'S NOT FUNNY.......So stop with those birds.

Sincerely, Agnes

***

December 21st

OK Buster:

I think I prefer the birds. What am I going to do with eight maids-a-milking? It's not enough with all those birds and eight maids-a-milking, but they had to bring their own cows. There is poop all over the lawn and I can't move into my own house. Just lay off me. .

***

December 22nd

Hey:

What are you? Some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers playing. And do they play!
They never stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning. The cows are upset and are stepping all over those screeching birds. No wonder they screech. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict me. You'll get yours.

From Ag

***

December 23rd

You Creep!

Now there's ten ladies dancing - I don't know why I call them ladies. Now the cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river of poop. The commissioner of buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm sicking the police on you.

One who means it, Ag

***

December 24th

Listen Idiot:

What's with the eleven lords a-leaping? All 234 of the birds are dead. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten swine.

Your sworn enemy, Miss Agnes McCallister

***

December 25th

(From the law offices Taeker, Spedar, and Baegar)

Dear Sir:

This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling, which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McCallister. The destruction, of course, was total. All correspondence should come to our attention. If you should attempt to reach Miss McCallister at Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have instructions to shoot you on sight. With this letter, please find attached a warrant for your arrest.

-Merry Christmas

DO 'YOU' KNOW WHO I AM?

2009-12-08T12:55:00.003-05:00

The past few weeks have just been insane. You know that ride called "Hellevator" that lifts you up & when you get to the top you just fall? That's kind of how I have been feeling for a while, only recently I've been taking rides more frequently on that Hellevator.

I would probably be fine if I didn't have to live with my dad due to financial reasons. Since that's not the case, I never know how my day will turn out. Last month we discovered my car needed a new water pump. This was only discovered after we paid to get my antifreeze flushed. The next day, the car was dripping antifreeze again & the mechanic said I had a bad water pump. Yay. The cost to buy one & put it on would be around $180. If dad had an air socket or something, he could have done it himself, which means 'I' could have done it myself & saved $140, since the water pump was only $40. Oh, did I mention that my dad insist this be done at that very instant? There was no talking him out of this one. He wanted to get it done & get it done now. Never mind the fact that I didn't have the money to pay for it for two weeks. GET IT DONE! Was what I heard loud & clear. How can I even argue w/that without being seen as the ever loving drama queen. or a hoarder of monies?

I gave in & took it one Friday to the mechanic to have it fixed. It runs great now, but I had an embarrassing ordeal when my check to the auto shop bounced, and again when I went to pay for the check on the first. But hey, the car was fixed, right?

A few days after that, dad turned on the crazy about him always being broke. Um hullo? I've told him time & again, to not buy shit for me, but he does. Like the new 32" tv he got for me to put in my bedroom, or the money he spent buying my water pump that could have waited two weeks until the first.

So here he goes, stomping up & down the stairs, stomping down the hall & slamming the door. That is his usual "I'm so fucking pissed right now" routine. Sometimes he stops at my door & looks at me. I guess waiting to see if I have anything to say, or sometimes for him to tell me how much I fail at life. You know, because I didn't know that already from the countless other times he's told me.

Well he wants money & I have a bunch of jewelry I don't wear so I go pawn it to get some cash. Only when I get home, he doesn't want my money. Alrighty. Well I'll keep it then, because he'll probably ask for it later (he did). I got him a pack of cigarettes & he didn't want those either, yet. A few days went by & he took them. He also started calming down & we were able to have Thanksgiving dinner in a peaceful kind of setting. I mean, at least no one was throwing knives at one another, even though that thought may have crossed minds.

Last week I have no idea what I did, but he was so pissed at me! Oooh wee T-Shayne! He was SO pissed, I had to get out of the house to give him time to chillax. I was okay, just a bit teary when he hurted my feelings. He's good about knowing how to make me feel like shit, especially when I've done nothing wrong. That makes me sit & think about what the fuck I might have done to have him so mad at me. The answer: Not a God damn thing!

I woke up the morning after his crazy spell & he told me to clean the upstairs part of the house. Yay. Cleaning. I'd rather have a root canal than clean, but I did it nonetheless. I mean, I cleaned that bitch so hard you could snort coke off the floors/walls/tables, etc.

While I was cleaning, I popped on my iPod to listen to some "pick me up" kind of songs to keep me moving. That's when he came upstairs & said something to me that I didn't hear re: iPod in ears. I asked him what he said, "Oh you heard me."

No actually I didn't. "I said, Life's a bitch iddinit?" I said yeah, and tried to go back to cleaning. He then came back with, "You better watch who you're punishing." I guess I should have bit my tongue, but I didn't & said the only person I was punishing was myself. He got kind of fiery hot with that comment. So I stopped cleaning, showered & got the fuck out of the house for a while.

He calmed down the next day. I had an appointment w/my psychiatrist & she changed my diagnosis from depression to Bipolar type 2. She wrote me a new prescription & told me to appeal my compensation decision since my diagnosis had changed.

I guess knowing that I'm bipolar helps me deal with things better & not worry about why I'm so fucked up & why I keep doing random shitty things or saying random shit that hurts people's feelings.

Remember when I said I cleaned the house? Yeah well, kneeling & crouching wore the ever loving piss out of my back. I was in so much pain. I got an appt with my dr. & she just gave me some muscle relaxers & some Voltaren. That shit didn't fucking work at all! If I were shot, it'd be like she put a fucking Mickey Mouse band-Aide on the wound & sent me on my merry fucking way.

So Sunday, I was in so much pain, I couldn't stand or sit, just lay. Every time I moved I thought someone was grabbing hold of my lower back muscle & twisting it. Since I don't have insurance, I drove to the VA ER. Oh. My. Lawlz. That place is so fucking bad I think the providers of patient care got their degree at the University of Phoenix online. I was there for 4 hours & all they gave me was a shot in my ass of toradol & some fucking ibuprofen. What kind of bullshit IS this? Only yesterday did I think I should have said, "I NEED SOMETHING FOR THE PAIN. If you don't give it to me, I'll find someone who WILL." Not really, because I don't know of anyone who sells pills, so that would have been a lie.

Two days later & my back feels a little better. If I sit or lay a certain way, it hurts like hellfire & damnation. I'm only supposed to take 1 muscle relaxer 3x/day, but I take two 3x/day instead because those tiny fuckers aren't doing a very good job of relaxing my muscles.

Funny story, while I was in the ER, I would make myself cry to try & get sympathy so they'd give me some good drugs, but NO. No one there mother fucking cared! I worked really hard producing those tears multiple times dammit! But I walked away with nothing but some fucking ibuprofen, which I had at home. So that trip was a big ol waste of time for everyone. I'll know that next time I have an emergency. I'll ask myself "Is this REALLY emergent?" Or maybe I'll just say screw it & go to the local butcher um, hospital instead.

DEAR MR.PRESIDENT - 26 Nov 2009

2009-11-26T18:31:00.004-05:00

I received this letter in an email from a friend of mine currently working in Afghanistan. Please take the time to read it, regardless of your political affiliation, race, religion or creed.

WW II Battleship sailor tells Obama to shape up or ship out !

This venerable and much honored WW II vet is well known in Hawaii
for his seventy-plus years of service to patriotic organizations and causes
all over the country. A humble man without a political bone in his body,
he has never spoken out before about a government official, until now.
He dictated this letter to a friend, signed it and mailed it to the
president.

Dear President Obama,

My name is Harold Estes, approaching 95 on December 13 of this
year. People meeting me for the first time don't believe my age because I
remain wrinkle free and pretty much mentally alert.

I enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1934 and served proudly before, during and
after WW II retiring as a Master Chief Bos'n Mate. Now I live in a "rest
home" located on the western end of Pearl Harbor, allowing me to keep alive
the memories of 23 years of service to my country.

One of the benefits of my age, perhaps the only one, is to speak my mind,
blunt and direct even to the head man.

So here goes.

I am amazed, angry and determined not to see my country die before I do, but
you seem hell bent not to grant me that wish.

I can't figure out what country you are the president of.
You fly around the world telling our friends and enemies despicable lies like:

" We're no longer a Christian nation"
" America is arrogant" - (Your wife even
announced to the world,"America is mean-
spirited. " Please tell her to try preaching

that nonsense to 23 generations of our
war dead buried all over the globe who
died for no other reason than to free a
whole lot of strangers from tyranny and
hopelessness.)
I'd say shame on the both of you, but I don't think you like America, nor do I
see an ounce of gratefulness in anything you do, for the obvious gifts this
country has given you. To be without shame or gratefulness is a dangerous
thing for a man sitting in the White House.

After 9/11 you said," America hasn't lived up to her ideals."

Which ones did you mean? Was it the notion of personal liberty that 11,000
farmers and shopkeepers died for to win independence from the British? Or
maybe the ideal that no man should be a slave to another man, that 500,000 men
died for in the Civil War? I hope you didn't mean the ideal 470,000 fathers,
brothers, husbands, and a lot of fellas I knew personally died for in WWII,
because we felt real strongly about not letting any nation push us around,
because we stand for freedom.

I don't think you mean the ideal that says equality is better than
discrimination. You know the one that a whole lot of white people understood
when they helped to get you elected.

Take a little advice from a very old geezer, young man.

Shape up and start acting like an American. If you don't, I'll do what I can
to see you get shipped out of that fancy rental on Pennsylvania Avenue. You
were elected to lead not to bow, apologize and kiss the hands of murderers and
corrupt leaders who still treat their people like slaves.

And just who do you think you are telling the American people not to jump to
conclusions and condemn that Muslim major who killed 13 of his fellow soldiers
and wounded dozens more. You mean you don't want us to do what you did when
that white cop used force to subdue that black college professor in
Massachusetts, who was putting up a fight? You don't mind offending the
police calling them stupid but you don't want us to offend Muslim fanatics by
calling them what they are, terrorists.

One more thing. I realize you never served in the military and never had to
defend your country with your life, but you're the Commander-in-Chief now,
son. Do your job. When your battle-hardened field General asks you for
40,000 more troops to complete the mission, give them to him. But if you're
not in this fight to win, then get out. The life of one American soldier is
not worth the best political strategy you're thinking of.

You could be our greatest president because you face the greatest challenge
ever presented to any president.
You're not going to restore American greatness by bringing back our bloated
economy. That's not our greatest threat. Losing the heart and soul of who
we are as Americans is our big fight now.
And I sure as hell don't want to think my president is the enemy in this final
battle.

Sincerely,
Harold B. Estes

When a 95 year old hero of the "the Greatest Generation"
stands up and speaks out like this, I think we owe it
to him to send his words to as many Americans as
we can. Please pass it on.

21 Aug 09 - WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO?

2009-08-21T15:59:00.003-04:00

I know it's been a while since my last blog. I want to write more often, but sometimes, okay, most of the time I get out what I need to via Twitter. Not this time.

This has been the king of fucking shit-all weeks. No kidding. Let me start, well, from the beginning. Last Friday I took dad to get his 'medicine' but it wasn't good. Just try to follow me here. Since it was some pretty weak shit, he got mad. Well for him to buy that 'medicine' I gave him $60 of my last dollars for the month. Still with me? Okay, well since the shit was weak & he was pissed & I being virtually broke (I've still got about $20 on me and $50 in the bank,) that just pushed his anger farther into the abysmal red zone. So I guess he needed something to be pissed at and this became the local cable company. He fought with them for about 3 days to try and fix the reception he was getting bc a few of his channels had interference and were kind of fuzzy. I mean, you could still watch it, but being that it wasn't perfect & the neighbor's WAS, that just wouldn't fucking fly.

Well yesterday, he got me up, bright and fucking early to bring me in on this shit tornado and had me look up the cost to switch to a satellite/dish company like DirecTV or Dish. So I did. I was kind of excited about the fact he wanted a dish since those came with the channels I love like BBCAmerica, Bravo, Oxygen and all that other crap. Well it was about $15 more a month and only offered the local Lexington channels, not the local Louisville channels (which was his main concern.) Don't ask me why, I have no fucking clue. Are you still following me here?

When the cable company gave him the run around and basically said there wasn't a problem, the fire in his ass got hotter and he started to shit lava. He left for a few hours, to walk it off I guess, and I tried to shower and get dressed & clean the house as much as I could before he came back. I was on my way out the door and WHAM! There he was. Fucking fucksticks!

He asked where I was going, so I told him the library, which is where I went. Then he asked if I was going to find a job or a place to move to. What?!? Um, no. I hadn't planned on it. I thought about asking, "Should I?" but realized that wouldn't be smart, so I kept my mouth shut.

Thinking things were okay, just that he was still in a bitch assy mood, I left and went to the library for a few hours. Well when I got home, shit started at ThreatCon Delta. I have no idea what the fuck I did, but dad told me he was moving out. I asked where he was going and he wouldn't tell me for a while. Later he said he too had been to the library and researched about going to San Francisco. Well, okay. What the holy piss do I say to that?

It kind of hurt my feelings a little that he was just going to up and leave me with everything, telling me he was moving out on the first of September. Then he started in with his usual; I'm a bad daughter, I don't care, I never show/say my appreciation for everything he's ever done for me, I'm selfish, I pity myself, I'm ungrateful and act like a bitch. I think that covers the jist of it. Anyway, you get the idea, right?

So this goes on for a while and my only reaction really is to cry, because I fucking do that shit when I'm mad. HE sees it as my way of wanting sympathy or some other bullshit. That just pisses me off more. I say very little, because I know whatever I say, I'm basically cutting my own throat. Which is right. Because everything I said got twisted around and misinterpreted to make it seem like, again, I don't care, want sympathy, blah, blah, fucking blah.

Here it is Friday, and here I am again at the Library to get some peace and quiet. I intially came here so I could watch a movie on my laptop, but I don't think I'll have enough time and will probably just try to watch it at home tonight if I ever get time. As I'm sure when I DO go home the bitch party will continue and I'll end up crying off all my fucking makeup. What pisses me off most is that my eyes feel like hot pokers are stabbing me because they are so dry. OH, but this moring they were all pretty, red and puffy like fucking marshmallow eyes.

I think he got his tv fixed today. At least that's what it seemed bc the main tech guy w/the cable company came over and worked on shit for about an hour. I know he was doing stuff w/our cable because I was trying to watch DOOL and my tv kept going snowy. Once that was done, he left, so I got my shit together and left as well. But not before I grabbed my laptop case newly covered with cat piss.

Really? Seriously God, that shit is NOT fucking funny. I spent about 10 minutes cleaning that nasty shit off then sprayed it soaking wet with Fabreeze. I hope no one around me can smell the cat piss. I know I can't.

Well, here I sit, at the library trying to blog this shit out and while I feel a little better, I still don't know what to fucking do. I mean, I can't go stay with any friends for a few days bc they all have kids or are married. I could look for a job, but that is the same shit I've been trying to do. In this economy is like trying to win the fucking lottery just to even get an interview with someone.

I have an appointment with my Psychiatrist Monday morning. Maybe if I act like a crazy fucking psycho she'll admit me to a mental health facility? Well, my dad DID tell me I needed to get some help. Which is ironic, because I actually HAVE been getting help, yet he hasn't and really is the one who needs it. I don't fucking know.

Sometimes I just want to stand in the middle of rush hour traffic or jump off a fucking bridge, but with my luck, I'll just get really badly injured then have a lot of other shit I can't pay. So scratch that idea.

What I really want is to get a fucking job so I can take my two kitties and move the fuck out! I can't take going through this insanity every other week. No shit, it is every other week. I could make a calendar by his mood swings.

Okay, I feel a little better, but I know I still have to go home. UGH. That makes the pit of my stomach rumble with fear.

Who the fuck knows what will happen? I sure as hell don't. One thing I DO know, is that I'm so over feeling like shit all the fucking time for no damn reason. I could understand if I did shit on purpose, but no. It comes from out of nowhere like a fucking ninja.

Are you fucking kidding me? 11 July 09

2009-07-12T00:46:00.003-04:00

I know I haven't blogged in a long time, but that's only because I hadn't had much worth blogging about. I mean, when you are unemployed and pretty much, broke as fuck, not a lot goes on. Shocking, right? STFU.

For the past few months my dad & I have been getting a long better. Well, better than previously. By that I mean, the arguements were just less frequent. More biweekly, instead of weekly. Once I think we even went almost four whole weeks without an arguement! I know, right? See, there isn't much fun in blogging if nothing exciting happens and everything is all happy fucking rainbows and shit. No one wants to read that boring bullshit. Hell, I don't want to WRITE that sappy, sugary crap.

Now, in the past, most of the arguements dad & I had were about something I'd done that he didn't like or approve of, that was also completely re-fucking-diculous. Like when I made dinner once, not thinking that he disliked tomatoes, chopped up tomatoes and put them in the dish. Fuck me, I forgot. I was following the assing recipe, and it slipped my God-fearing mind that he didn't like tomatoes.

Another time, yes recently, he forgot his cigarettes across the street at a friend's house & they'd left. Well he tried calling & I had to find the # in his phone, since he's not tech savvy, or tech anything, really. I found the number & he dialed it. Well it rang once then hung up. He got mad because I didn't remember the number & told him to press talk so it'd call the same number back. Well that's when he threw the phone at me. Really. Threw. Seriously.

So, after about 5 months of living with these peculiarities I have started becoming more aware of the warning signs of when the craziness is about to strike. Usually a few days beforehand, he'll ask me, on more than one occasion, "What is wrong with you?" or "Are you okay?" But in the kind of voice that isn't really sincere, but more accusitory. That's when I know, nothing is wrong with ME. Hehehe.

Never fail, this past Thursday, he asked me a few times, what was wrong w/me and if I was okay. Like I'm on fucking drugs or some bullshit. I don't know, maybe I had some things going on in my head at the time and he couldn't understand that I was thinking how bad I felt for the homeless couple sitting at the intersection, asking for help and I was considering pulling out a tenner and giving it to them? Or that when I put new batteries in the flashlight, and it still didn't work, I thought maybe it wasn't the batteries that was the problem, so I tried the old ones in a different flash light. Surprise, the batteries weren't dead.

Maybe my logic is too complex for some people to understand? Or maybe I think in wibbly wobbly patterns that differs from most? Who knows?

So anyway. We saw on the news that Friday night at 9:09, if you looked in the sky you could see the International Space Station float by. Dad wanted me to check the NASA website to make sure that was correct. As he was standing in front of me, while I was searching the laptop, he noticed that the boxed set of books on my table all had the word "Dead" in their titles.

I tried to explain that it was because they had vampires, werewolves, faries, and other things like that in the books.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

He told me to get rid of the books. Simple as that. Without batting an eye, "I don't want those in my house." Um, what? I JUST bought the 7 book series set of Charlaine Harris's Sookie Stackhouse Novels, which is what the HBO series, "True Blood" is based on. I spent $35 for these books and wasn't going to throw them away. I told him so. He argued with me.

I tried to explain to him that they were fictional novels, just a first person narrative about the life of a cocktail waitress or barmaid as Sookie refers to herself so often. Yeah, he didn't care. He left me alone the rest of the night, and I hoped *hoped* that would be the end of it. HAHAHAHAHAHA!

The next day, it started right back up. Only this time, the arguement was bigger. Yeah, not only did he not want the books in his house, he didn't want me reading those kinds of books and if I did, he wanted me to leave. Seriously. Because he claimed the books were evil, a darkness that throws off the balance of good and good spirits in the house. (I hope he never looks at my DVD collection or the Harry Potter books I have in my bookshelf or the box of Tarot cards I have, but never figured out how to work!)

While I sat there, basically being accused of being evil, narrowminded, gullible, and selfish, I thought. I thought maybe if I just make him think he's won and agree to get the books out of the house, he'll drop all of this nonsensical bullshit. Nope.

Even though I told him I would take the books to a friend's house, who also likes them, he said the problem was me. Aww, you shouldn't say such sweet things to me! No matter how much explaining I tried to do, he didn't get it. He used the most asinine analogies EVER that made NO SENSE whatsoever. I didn't help by adding fuel to the fire, asking if he had an approved list of TV shows and movies I could watch.

He walked outside, and I grabbed my books then left. I was gone for about 4 hours. I drove around. Dropped of a book that was almost due back at the library, then visited my friend. She and I talked about how silly it was that my dad and I were arguing about BOOKS. Silly, fictional books.

I left all but one book with her. Well I haven't read it yet! I came home and he seemed okay. Usually when he's mad at me, he won't eat dinner with me, or eat what I fix for dinner by saying he's not hungry. This time was different. He didn't seem mad at me anymore. Hmm. That's strange. I thought it was a trap at first, but then he told me he had a weird strange feeling and was dizzy but then snapped out of it. It's hard to explain the episodes he tells me he has, so just imagine with me that it was something weird that scared him a little. :)

Kind of weird that happened, since while driving around, I asked for a sign. Some kind of sign to prove that either I was wrong and should listen to him about silly fictional books and it was sinful to read them, or a sign to show I was right and it's no big deal, they are just silly books that aren't real and have no influence over my general principles or way of life. Since nothing strange happened to me, I win.

Even thought I knew in my soul there wasn't anything wrong with the books I was reading for entertainment purposes, I drove by several churches, suppressing the urge to go in and ask the preacher or minister or whoever, if I was sinning against God by reading fictional books for the enjoyment and imagination. No kidding.

I hate doubting myself. Shit, it's not like I was out killing kittens and running down grannies in the WalMart parking lot. I was just reading books. Who's parent gets mad at their child for reading? Not like it was instructional books on how to be a sociopath. I wonder if they have those at my library?

This is why I'm a cat person - -5 May 09

2009-05-05T19:42:00.005-04:00

Last Wednesday I went to my BFF's house to dog sit for her, while she and her hubby went on their honeymoon. They don't get back until this Friday, but because my dad hadn't been feeling well, I didn't want to leave him at the house very long by himself, so I stay at her house until Monday.

My first night there was okay, the dogs seemed at little depressed, but they liked eating treats, so they got some of those. I was not doing okay, because I thought I was getting the swine flu (I had been in walmart earlier that day). My face, ears and neck were flushed red and very warm. I took my temperature, but I was fine.

The next day was boring, except when I took the dogs out. The redneck neighbors had two dogs they didn't keep on a leash, so their german shepard kept barking and running towards me when I had one of the dogs in the yard.

Friday I decided to take the dogs for a walk around the neighborhood. It was too cool to get into the pool, but warm enough to go for a walk. I knew it was kind of rude to leave a pile of dog shit in someone's yard, so I took some sandwich baggies with me, just in case.

Lana, the bigger of the two, dragged my ass everywhere we went. She's like a hyper 2 year old on candy, just running around with no coordination or awareness. Austin is the smaller dog. He's old and about the size of a Jack Russell but without the enthusiasm.

Austin pooped first, and since people were watching, I picked it up and carried it to the end of the road, where I dumped it into the bushes. I thought about putting it in someone's trash can, but I'd be pissed if someone put their dog's shit in my trash can. When I tossed his poop baggie into the bushes, Lana decided it was time for her to poop. She kind of poops and walks and pooped on the road, so I just left it and turned around to walk back to the house. The dogs were tired for the next two days. It was awesome!

Even though Austin is little and calm, he whines about EVERYTHING! When he came around me and whined, I took him outside, but he would just stand there, with me, in the rain. When I brought him in, I took Lana out. Well she just wanted to chase a bunny down the street she saw. I now have stronger biceps from holding her back so much.

My last day there, I loaded up all my stuff and was about to take Lana to the vet for boarding, when I decided I should take them out one last time, just in case.

I put the leash on Austin, did my usual commanding Lana to sit and stay, when that little bitch bolted out the door! She took off, across the street, into the neighbor lady's yard. I got SO close to her, then she took off again, this time running around to the back of the houses.

I got close to her, and she would run away again. So, here I am, chasing after a leash-less lana, with Austin on his leash running along side me as we trapse through these soaking wet, muddy yards after Lana.

I'm freaking out, thinking she's going to start chasing the cows in the neighboring field, or maybe find a bunny to kill, so I'm yelling at her to stop, which she never does.

Finally, I catch up to her and grab her by the collar. We start walking toward the house and she wiggles out of the collar and runs away from me! OMG! This fucking dog is houdini! So, five more yards Austin and I run through until we finally catch Lana.

This time I've tightened her collar, and grabbed the skin of her neck as I walk, hunched over, back to the house. That's when I see the redneck douchebag neighbor ask if I needed another leash. Yeah, fuck you asshole, I've got it, thanks.

I get to the front sidewalk of the house and Lana wiggles out of the collar again! OMG! Instead of running, she lays down and plays dead. I'm trying to put her collar on, but she's not cooperating, just wiggling around on her back. I finally get it around her neck and clasped together, and get both dogs inside the house.

By this time I need a drink, a cigarette, a valium, and a nap, but I just put a leash on Lana and lead her to my car, where she happily gets inside.

On my way to the vet, which is about 2 miles down the road, I'm constantly telling her to sit, and stay, but she doesn't fucking listen to me.

As I make a sharp right turn into the Vet, Lana slides into my lap, knocking my car out of gear. Before I realized what happened, I tried pushing the gas, and freaked out when it wouldn't move. I thought I had just fucked my transmission, when she had just kicked the gear into neutral. Oh thank fuck!

I park and get out with the glee of getting rid of this dog, finally! Not before she dragged my ass across the yard and barked at all the dogs inside the vet. Then she tried to climb on the counter to get the kitty that was laying behind the counter.

After about 5 minutes, the vet tech finally took her from me. Thank fuck! I was never happier to get rid of a dog!

When I got home an hour later, I was never happier to see my two calm, non-outside pooping cats.

24 April 09 - Need more meds, STAT!

2009-04-24T13:53:00.002-04:00

I had an appointment with the VA on Tuesday. It's something I agreed to do after my dad (who has dementia among other medical problems) yelled at me for a day, then calmly told me in so many words, I was crazy. What does one do when they are told they are crazy, by a crazy person? It can't cancel each other out, that's too easy! It must mean, time for a visit with my psychiatrist again. Woohoo!

The way the VA works is, you call a number, and some dipshit fights with you about getting an appointment. They want to know why you need the appointment, "Because I'm fucking crazy, asshole!" Then they pick a day and time, then send you a letter in the mail. My winning lotto date was Tuesday at 3pm.

Well, Monday was a pretty shitty day because me and my crazy dad argued all day. Seems when I took a muscle relaxor for my neck, he woke me up too soon to fix dinner, and I burned it a little. Hey, have you ever tried to cook while half asleep? You'd burn something too! Ass.

So that got the bitch ball a rollin, and it just escalated when I told him I had less than $500 in the bank. You would have thought I murdered a litter of puppies in front of a gang of school children.

I had a job interview scheduled Tuesday morning, but since I was depressed and feeling worthless about myself all night, I didn't go. I did go to see my Psychiatrist though! But before I went, my dad asked if I had anything to say to him. I told him no, I'd talk to him when I got back.

So, I go see my shrinky-dink. To recap: my Psychiatrist is from India, sometimes hard to understand, and not very personable. Usually, my visits consist of my answering yes and no to her never changing questions. This visit was different.

Keep in mind, I'm a big ball of depressing girly tears, so right off the bad her first question makes me cry. "Did you come here from work?" *cry* "I don't have a job!"

Don't you feel like an ass now? Ha! Bitch.

I tell her what happened, she seems uninterested, but says she wants to help. I tell her I feel like I'm on a bipolar rollercoaster of emotions, so she increases my happy pills. Hoorah! She also gives me something else for nerves and to help me sleep. Double hoorah! Then she walks me down to talk to some guy with lots of hair, about getting a job. He was of very little help, but hey, I have more happy pills coming!

Once that was over, I had to go to the OTHER VA hospital on UK's campus to pick up my drugs and get blood drawn. For some weird reason, I feel comfortable around all of the other vets. No matter what, I know most of them probably have a crazy mental status like me. They don't judge me because we're all fucked up in some way. Ahh, home! Only with the smell of vitamins and pee.

12 Apr 09 - Long overdue

2009-04-12T21:56:00.000-04:00

I haven't blogged much since last year. My last blog was on myspaz on election day. I had a job then. Granted it was a shitty, thankless job, but a job nonetheless. I had my own apartment then. Life was good.

A few weeks after election day I was fired from my job and have been unemployed ever since. My fulltime job became looking for employment. There were a few times when I would have had a job had it not been for a less than stellar credit report. How the FUCK can a job refuse to hire you according to your credit history? I mean, I can see the logic if I were going to work in a bank, insurance claims, or dealing directly with any kind of finances, but for a call center/help desk and Coca Cola?

I even thought I was getting hired at a dermatology office last December. I shadowed one afternoon a few hours, then again the next day. I was supposed to get paid for that, but never did and when the girl never returned my calls about the position, I just gave up. What a shitty way to do business, you don't even have the balls to call me back or write a letter letting me know I wasn't needed for the position? Assfaces!

I tried to keep my apartment for as long as I could, and finally in February I had to move in with my dad. I don't even want to talk about all the bills I currently owe for not having a job for two months, yet having an apartment with utilities.

Living with my dad has been an infinite emotional roller coaster. Some days are good and happy and cheerful and laughy, and others, not so much. I will say, this past week or so has been pretty level and happy, with less crazy.

The only craziness has been from the fat old bitch next door. That crazy cow has been running around the street bare assed naked. The past two days, she's been cutting down her half of the very pretty purple lavender tree along the fenceline of our house. She is an evil hateful bitch. When my dad told me what she was doing, I went outside and stared daggers through her soulless body. Then he told me not to do that, it was mean. Oh no, I wanted that crazy assface to know what she did wasn't cool, and now I'd be watching her. She doesn't want to provoke me. I will wish her ill will until her saggy ass end up in the hospital!

So, current life is boring. I mean, I twitter and play myspace games, watch tv and do other unimportant shit, but I don't have any of the same liberties I had when I lived and provided for myself. Like I could drink and smoke if and when I wanted. Now, I can not. If I wanted to go out and stay out for the night/weekend, I could and didn't have to report my whereabouts to anyone. Now I do. It's not that I mind, it's just different getting used to not living by myself again.

The one good thing is the food. I get to cook real food and real meals now without having leftovers for a fucking week. Real food is awesome! It's way better than prepackaged, processed shit all the time.

I feel bad for not having a job, but then again, there are millions of other people in my kind of situation too. When I think about it like that, I don't feel as bad anymore. So when the bill collectors call, I just tell them, "I'm unemployed. Have been since November, and don't get unemployement." So SUCK IT!

Another bad thing about living back at home with dad is I can't stay up very late. Well I CAN, but I have to be quiet, because it makes him stress when I'm awake and he's trying to sleep. Or something like that.

Dad sits and talks with me sometimes. He tries to explain his interpretation of some of the stories in the bible. So far, what I've heard is God is an alien who created Earth and populated it with species from several other planets. There was the first Earth Age, where people lived for hundres of years and in spirit form, then there is the current, or second Earth Age where people will be created until souls run out. (No they don't get reincarnated. I asked)

He's also told me about the bloodline of Jesus and Satan, how there were more than just two of every animal on Noah's ark, and what spit Jonah up on the beach was not a "great fish" but an alien water craft.

Sometimes, I'm not really sure how to process all of that information, but I usually just smile and nod.

15 Aug 08 - What you want to know

2009-04-12T21:49:00.000-04:00

With zero life, I have saved MUCH gas, therefore saving much MONEY by not having to buy that shit so often. Which is good, considering I had to spend all extra money on co-pays for the doctors I saw.

My leg/knee is better. Well, from time to time, like when I stand or walk a lot, it hurts a little, but I try to be as sedentary as possible. Hehe. I am supposed to still be using the crutches, but great Jesus on jumpercables, they suck! So I said eff that to the crutches after about two and a half weeks. Well, the handicap parking was nice though, but have you ever tried grocery shopping by yourself. . . on crutches? Yeah, that should be a new olympic sport! Seriously.

Speaking of Olympics, I've been watching the hairy balls off the games! It kind of helps that Michael Phelps is smoking hot, but still I have homeland pride, beeyotches! I love watching the US kick all the other suck-assed country's asses!

Let's talk about work. The past few weeks, okay, more than that. It started a month or two ago. I started really HATING the girl who trained me. She would belittle me and talk to me like I was a fucking retard every time she told me about some little mistake I had made. I found it condescending and hypocritical because she was making even WORSE mistakes than myself, yet seemed to overlook that.

But whatever, I just came in to do my work, and get paid. Oh, and try to stay awake in the process. The playing of music and listening to iPods were soon banned, for some reason. I dunno, I wasn't there when the decision was made. So, the buds came out of my ears and I started chatting it up more with the two front desk clerks sitting to my right.

Work got tolerable, yet that bitch kept pissing me off until one day I SNAPPED! Well, kind of. I didn't go COMPLETELY insane, like any previous times. I just basically stood up for myself and let her know she wasn't as right as she thought. I stopped being friendly to her, and started just being civil. With as little interaction as possible.

About two weeks ago, she tries being nicer to me, yet things she was telling me to do sounded, erm. . . peculiar? But, instead of listening to my gut, LIKE I SHOULD HAVE, but didn't, I brushed it off and just did what I was told.

I guess the military instills some of that shit farther than even I imagined. I did what I was told, and didn't attempt of breaking the "chain of command" so to speak, by going over super-bitch's head to our supervisor.

Wednesday I was pulled into a conference to find out that super bitch had quit! YES! Life was going to be good again! I was excited and scared all at the same time! More responsibility! Less backstabbing and dirty looks! WooHOO!

Then it hit me like a spike from Carrie Walsh, I was trained wrong. That dirty bitch had trained me to do parts of my job incorrectly, thus causing billing problems, inturn costing the company $$ and headache.

That skanky cunt threw me under the bus and BAILED! WTF?! But I took it calmly and vowed that I would learn the correct way to bill new/referred/consulted patients. I would work hard and they would LOVE ME!

Wrong-o. I wasn't given a chance to do anything but pick my panties out of my ass. I was brought upstairs again and told that the billing of fee tickets aka my job, was going back to a third party and my position was gone. Just like that.

Yes, I was crushed. But within the same breath, I was told they didn't want me to leave the company, so I had the option to stay and do a different job. Across the street. WHAT!?!

Across the street!?!??? The building I'ver heard ZERO good things about? People I don't even know??!?! NOOOO!!!!!!!

Well, of course I took the fucking position. You honestly don't think I'm an idiot, do you?

So, watery and red eyed, I packed up some stuff and headed across the street to the main clinic. I was introduced to my new supervisor and told of my new position (same pay).

I was reluctant because my new job involved answering the phones. All calls to each of our five clinics go to the phones in one little room of women, dubbed THE HEN HOUSE. I swear to BLOG!

Instantly I knew that all change was indeed NOT bad, and instilled my belief that things DO happen for a reason. These chicks were cool! They talked and actually laughed! Holy balls! I have a new home and it makes me happy! I like it more than the old place because I'm not surrounded by grouchy, grumpy, crabby old bitches who fight like two year olds!

ALAS! All is again right with the world. I am home, saving money and watching the Olympics. Life is good.

26 July 08 - Making up for lost Dr.Visits

2009-04-12T21:30:00.000-04:00

My health insurance kicked in, full force this month. So far, I've been wearing the shit out of it! Damn, if they don't hate me yet, they will be kicking themselves for insuring me soon!

First, I just made a few normal appointments. I have been having crazy, feels like I'm 16, mad acne breakouts for the past few months. It's been insane! So, I decided to see a dertmatologist. That went pretty well. I'm using RetinA and taking tetracycline. I lucked out on the cost of RetinA, getting it for FREE! I also love kRog's $4 scrip list!

Secondly, since I haven't had a menstrual period since April-ish, I went to see an OB/GYN. My bloodwork came back normal, and we discussed birth control options. No big deal.

A week later, my knee started feeling sore. Nothing major, just kind of achy. I thought that it either had to do with my excercising or standing up all night the night before at the Jimmy Buffett concert I went to.

The next day the pain was worse, and progressively worse as the days went by. So, Monday I called to get a primary care doctor so I could get my knee checked out.

First, let me tell you about trying to get the appointment. I chose to stay with the Lexington Clinic, because that's who my OB/GYN is with and they have offices all over town plus an after hours care center.

When I called, I asked the woman who answered, what the clinic hours were. She asked me what doctor. I said, any family doctor. She put me on hold and transferred me to someone's voicemail.

I hung up and called back, getting the same damn woman. I tried to be a bit more specific, and say I was needing a new family doctor and wanted to know the hours. Before I could say anything else, I got the hold and transfer again.

Now I'm pissed the fuck off. I call for a third time and guess who answers? The first thing I say is, "Does anyone else answer the phones besides you?" She kind of laughed and said yes. I was angry and told her I had called twice before wanting help and she was not giving me any, just transferring me.

She seemed to listen a little better this time when I told her I needed a new doctor and needed one who opened early so I wouldn't have to miss much work. Finally, I was sent to the right person, who answered and got me an appointment for Thursday morning.

By Thursday my knee was swollen and hurting much worse. Hopefully the doctor would help! When I got to the clinic, I had to stand in line for 15 minutes to check in. I'm sure that was good on my knee.

The doc checked out my knee, ordered some blood tests and an xray. The lab took FIVE vials of blood! Holy piss! Why did they need FIVE? I still have no idea, but maybe in the next few days I will and will let you know too.

It took no time to get the xrays back and the doctor said they looked normal, but there was a slight sign of inflammation. She ordered an MRI for Friday morning, at the clinic across town, close to my office. She gave me a sample of Flector patches to put on my knee, and I stood at the window for a good 20 minutes while the nurse made my mri appointment.

That night, I noticed my left foot, mainly ankle, was swollen. Awesome. I put the Flector patch on my leg, took some ibuprophine and went to bed. Those patches, by the way, suck.

Friday morning I went and had the MRI done, taking a nice nap during, and my knee was still hurting. Only now, both knees hurt because I was limping and putting more pressure on my right knee. The pain changed to stiff achiness and every time I walked, I felt like the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz, and my knees needed oiling.

I noticed my foot/ankle was swollen again and became concerned, so I called the doctor's office. The nurse told me to go to the after hours clinic. So I went after work.

The pain was now so bad, that if it got any worse, I would have been in tears. Seriously. I was walking slower than a 90 old granny with a walker. Back in the exam room, I laid down and tried to rest until the doc came in.

I think she was just out of school because her bedside manner was questionable. She asked me if I had gotten the results of my MRI yet. I said no, and she asked me what I thought was wrong. Then she said, "Well I know the results of your MRI, and you have a fracture in your tibia."

Okay, if you KNEW the results, why didn't you just fucking come out and TELL me in the first damn place? If I wasn't hurting so much, I would have been such a bitch about that.

One of the nurses came in with a brace for my knee and a set of crutches. Have you ever used crutches? They completely suck gigantor saggy oldman balls! I'm not supposed to put any weight on my left leg, so using the crutches is hard, and hurts my underarm pits. Owie!

I could tel you stories of how, when I went to pick up my script for Ultram, I hobbled around kRog, but that would be pretty boring.

Why is it, when you are visibly injured and on crutches, people look at you like you have an under developed arm growing out of your forehead?

Oh yeah, the crappy doc who did my last exam referred me to an orthopedic surgeon's office, but they aren't open until Monday. I guess I'll find out more about my sitch then.

20 May 08 - Bitches be crazy, yo!

2009-04-12T21:26:00.000-04:00

The bitches I work with, man, they are SOME kind of bitches! It seems like I work with a group of people who hate being there. A few of them are actually okay, and friendly, but fucking hell, you'd think I fucked their sons and raped their daughters with a strap on they way they look at me sometimes.

Maybe it's not me? Maybe their face is permantly stuck in the scowl position and they can't help it? I know for sure I can't trust a single one of those bitches to not snitch on me.

See, we have interweb access, but are only allowed to use it for work purposes. Then they scare us with, "oh the big bad IT guy does a scan to check what sites you visit. " blah blah bullshit. What the fuck ever. If humpty Steve wants to question why I went towww.wendys.com then he can.

Anyway, since I don't internet surf, I use my crackberry. I get online and visit lexmojo and check my mail. I also text my homies. Well, if I'm having a shit or slow day, I open my drawer and sneak a message. Apparently the spies in the office hate me and tattle every time they see me.

Even when I'm on break I get questions, "Who are you talking to on there all day?" Yeah, they are called FRIENDS. Remember those? You probably had some before you got married and old.

So, now I go for walks around the neighborhood and text where no one can see me. I would go into the shitter, but since there is only one, people get tired of waiting for me to come out.

Well, today I listened to some Ricky Gervais podcasts and was laughing my jiggly arse off! I thought for sure I'd be busted and get in trouble for random bursts of laughter. I mean, it's not like I was watching a movie, again. Plus I was still working.

Now, even though he's a dood, my dad is one crazy bitch! He cracks me up sometimes, and other times I just want to wring his neck. He gets more mood swings than a woman. We had an argument a few weeks ago, over NOTHING. Because of our fight, he thought I was never going to talk to him again, so he left me a letter on my windshield. Drama queen!

We made up, now he's been telling me about his bathroom problems. "Not when I pee, you know, the other," is what he tells me. Yeah, dad, I'm 31, you can say poop or stool to me and I'll know what you mean.

He had me a little worried today. I think he's getting like my mother because he told me a story of when he was a kid, he thinks he saw aliens. Or maybe he thinks he was abducted by aliens, or they did something to him? Oi, I have no clue. Guess this is what I have to look forward to in about 30 years. Yippie!

Continuing my topic of crazy bitches, a few weeks ago I was in a fight with one. A real fight, with punches and shit. I didn't blog about it then, because I knew that's what some people were hoping for. Like I'm going to give anyone THAT satisfacion! HA!

So, here's what happened. The girl I blogged about a few months ago, that was acting trampish at a bar with her boyfriend and I told him to watch his back, yeah, well she got her feelings hurted and tried to call me out about calling her a whore.

Well, okay, if you see something or hear something someone has said about you, be it matter of fact or opinion, and you get mad about it, then it must be true. Right? I mean, if it's not true, then fuck it, let it go. But nooooo, she called me out as soon as she saw me and said if I were to start rumors about her, to make sure they were true.

Well, leading up to that point, I had drank 2 large assed fucking margaritas with a lot of tequila, and a few glasses of beer, along with a muscle relaxer chaser. I know, shut up. Hey, it's my Friday ritual, to ease the pain in my back. The muscle relaxer, not all the alcohol.

So, by the time I get to this place, I'm pretty fucking drunk. I have no idea what I said to that girl, but she wouldn't stay out of my face. I kept walking away from her, I think I sang a song, and drank some more, and smoked a few cigarettes, but she wouldn't go away.

Finally I said something to her and she punched me in the jaw. Hey, I'm still on probation (ending this month) and I'm not about to go to jail for some crazy person. Plus, I never throw the first punch, I learned that in college. (What, what Kellie!!?? LOL That bitch Shannon went down!)

Anyway, at the time, I was about to light a cigarette and she hit me, well I keep trying to light my cigarette and think I swung back, but kept trying to hold on to my cigarette and bit the inside of my lip. When I realized it was gone, I held my lighter in my hand and just started hitting.

Not too long after, the fight was broken up. I had a couple of scratches on my chest and my arm, and of course, my lip was bleeding from the inside, but I didn't know it until I started tasting metal. That's always lovely.

Well, I fixed my hair and went back to drinking. She left quickly after, with what looked like a black eye and bruised side of the face.

I don't really remember much else, other than getting some neosporin from PR, then going home and feeling like I was going to vomit, but passed out instead.

The next day I woke up and my bottom lip was kind of puffy, which was cool because I didn't have to pay for collagen injections to get that look. Ha!

So, last weekend, when I went out, I had to bring some pepper spray, just in case some bitches went crazy again. Seriously. I got a letter from the probation office, called Kentucky Alternative Programs here, and this is my last month of probation suckaz! So, in an effort not to fuck up while still on probation, I brought my pepper spray.

14 Apr 08 - Randomness of my mind

2009-04-12T21:21:00.002-04:00

I've got a really funky cold right now. It kept me inside and basically in bed all weekend and most of the day at work. Maybe it's because the temperature in my house is about 62 degrees? What can I say, I'm a cheap bitch.

I'm writing a blog because I'm avoiding doing my state taxes. Yeah, I know they are due tomorrow, but I'm a procrastinator. There isn't much to do anyway, just fill out one piece of paper and mail it off. I don't know why I'm delaying it. Maybe because it feels like work?

I did some shopping today and got a really cool new scanner/printer/copier for $50. It's pretty sweet! It even came with some picture paper soz I can print out some pics and stick them on my wall at work.

Some of you are like me, and live the single life, which means you cook for yourself and probably not anyone else. Well, have you ever noticed a lot of the packaging for what I call "single food" comes "easy open"?

I call bullshit on the easy open part. Why is this the hardest thing to ever open? Ever! The directions say "pull here" or "tear here" when in all actuality it should say, "tear anywhere BUT here" or "just get some damn scissors".

Even the macaroni and cheese box isn't easy to open. Well, if you're a girl and have fingernails, it's not easy to open, unless you want to rip one of your fingernails off and run screaming into the bathroom with blood running down your arm. That box even says, "push in here". It should say something like "tear at top" or "use a spoon to press this in cuz if you try to open this, you will injure yourself."

Then there are the packages with the "resealable" feature. Ha! HAHAHAHA! That shit never works! If it does work, trying to get it back open is like trying to peel a wet cat off your back.

Has anyone else noticed how things come in "handy sizes" now? What the shit is that about? I can't get the bags of popcorn I like in regular sized bags anymore because now they are in "single serving" sized bags. Um, no. If I wanted a single serving, I would only eat half the bag, but I popped the whole bag and intended on eating the whole damn thing!

Is this the governments way of limiting proportions to our ever growing fat asses? I've noticed that even the size of bags of chips are getting smaller. I got a bag of fritos the other day, and they come in Family Sized, or, Junior Sized. Well, it's not really called Junior Size, but that's how it looks! It's at least 3-5 oz smaller than the normal sized bags used to be! What? WHY?!? I had to buy two bags just so I didn't feel like I was being cheated out of any Fritos. Sure, I could have bought the Family Sized bag, but it was way more expensive.

3 Mar 08 - Happy Birthday, you're fired.

2009-04-12T21:21:00.001-04:00

Well, it's not really my birthday yet, but it's close enough. I got a call this afternoon from work and they left a voicemail saying I was terminated, but I'd be paid for Friday and Monday. Yay.

I didn't get to fight or defend my side, and they so easily decided I should be fired. Wow.

So, I'm looking for employment elsewhere. If anyone has any tips or ideas, knows of anyone hiring, I'll be happy to forward my resume, since it has been updated.

Thanks.

29 Feb 08 - BT Threatens work, news at 6

2009-04-12T21:19:00.000-04:00

So here's what happened at work today. We get in at 7am because that's what we've been working the past few days, 7-6:30. We do our work, then are briefed about our new payscale system.

Most of us are losing about $30-$40 a day because of the new low payrates and no one was happy about it.

Throughout the morning and afternoon, many of us were making offhand remarks such as "I'm going to kill myself." "I'm going to throw myself in front of a bus."

When we came back from second break, I said "It's days like these that make me understand why people shoot up their workplace." I saw a girl's face, then added, "Not that I would ever do that."

Apparently someone who heard that took that as a threat and went to management. I was asked to pick up my things, turn in my badge and escorted out of the building.

Before they kicked me out, I was told whoever reported me claimed I said, "It's days like these that make me want to go home and get a gun and shoot up the place." Or something. So I told our department head exactly what I said, and those around me who heard what I said.

So, I'm on paid leave pending investigation. I guess I'll submit my resume for new jobs while I'm sitting at home since I'll probably get fired or something for that.

I said I was going to jump off a cliff, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna do it! Holy fuck! I don't even own a gun or any firearms/explosive devices!! Wait, I own a box of matches and a lighter, but that's about it.

This is bullshit and I'm so mad about it! How do I get myself into these things? O

26 Feb 08 - Shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit!

2009-04-12T21:16:00.000-04:00

26 Feb 08 - SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, fuck, SHIT!
Current mood: bitchy
Category: Blogging

Okay, so yesterday's gone. Thank the piss! It is in the past and can fucking stay there dood. Anyway, enough of that bull ess.

Shit! I just noticed that my cats ripped open their bag of catnip and now it's all over the carpet. Dammit! Effing stoners!

Aside from yesterday's dramz, other shiz has been going on. Like, Thursday night, my laptop died. The pc itself is okay, but I can't get power to it because the prong connected to the motherboard with which the power cord connects, broke off.

Yeah, that made me a little pissed but only because all the pictures, documents and music I have loaded on that thing. Maybe I can power it up and transfer it to a usb drive before it dies? I'll have to give that a shot and let you all know how it went. Otherwise, I'm SOL.

Since I'm a big nerd and can't live without having the internet for long, I went and got a new laptop. It's pretty sweet ass, too! It's a Sony Viao with an Intel Dual Core processor. The only downside is, it has Vista. Which isn't all that bad really. It's much lighter, faster and bigger. Plus I don't have to insert my wireless card into a pcmcia slot to connect to my wifi. It's got that shiz built in, yo! I know!

Oh yeah, I quit second job. Well, I haven't been there in a few weeks, so I guess I don't work there anymore. Ha! The deal with second job was, it was nice to have when we ran out of work at first job at like 2pm, and went home. That way, I was at least making some money. For the past two weeks, we've been working 9-430 with plenty to do, so I don't really have a need for second job anymore. Sure, I'm not making the $20/hr I was making at the start of piece rate, but I'm making over $500/week, so that's not bad.

25 Jan 08 - Only the best day EVER!

2009-04-12T21:10:00.002-04:00

I got the most exciting news today! I get to move into my new apartment on February 1st! YAYZ!!! It is the coolest apartment too. There is 950 sqft, a fireplace, sunroom, den, dishwasher, washer/dryer, lots of closets and a ginormous closet in my bedroom!!

But wait! The best part is, it is a block from work! There are tennis courts and a swimming pool, plus a 10 person jacuzzi. ALSO, they have dvds you can check out for free! That's pretty sweet!

Wanna know my second exciting news? I got a part time job! Woohoo! Why did I get a part time job? Well, my main job hasn't been keeping me there for many hours, so even though I'm making $20/hour, I'm only working 5 hours. So, I went with a coworker and applied for a job. This was the fastest I've ever gotten ANY job in the history of me getting jobs!

Sure, it only pays $6/hr starting out, but that's better than nothing. Plus, the faster I type, the more I can make. Which for me, is cool since I'm a speed demon when it comes to typing.

But wait, what are the best two things about this job? It's about two blocks away from my new apartment AND it pays out every Friday opposite to my other job, so I'll get a paycheck every Friday! Sweet!

I am just so excited about FINALLY getting to move! You all don't even KNOW how much I hate living here. The first few weeks or so was okay. I mean, I gave my roommate the benifit of the doubt. But after he never got the point of "keeping things clean" such as wiping off the counter, rinsing off the dishes and putting them in one side of the sink, cleaning out malodorous food from the fridge, etc, I couldn't take it anymore. Him spraying my cat all the time with the water bottle when he wasn't doing anything wrong was the last straw.

I've had all I can handle, so slowly I will begin to move all my small things out, and leave all the big furniture for last. Woo! If I had some money, I'd go out and celebrate! Ha!

Hey, I do have a bottle of rum. . . maybe I'll go buy some cokes? Heehee!

2 Dec 07 - Drunken idiot injures self while urinating

2009-04-12T21:10:00.001-04:00

I woke up Friday and felt like hell twice over. I had a major headache and the shiz. So I called in sick and slept all day. For serious. ALL DAY. I think I got up to eat a pb&j sammich around midnight, then went back to bed.

Saturday I felt a little better, but still had the shiz. Once I ate something other than pb&j, my stomach felt better. I still sat around and watched tv and played Zelda on my DS. Around 11pm I got a wild hair up my ass and decided to go out.

So, I jumped in the shower, got ready and headed to my favorite hole in the wall. Things were okay, but not many of the regulars were there, so I only knew two guys that were already there, along with the bartender and karaoke operator. Later another familiar face came in and we all sat and drank together until closing time.

It was a pretty good time. We hung out after closing and chatted with the bartender for a bit, then we left. I was taking a friend home, but not before stopping at Sliders for some fries and chicken rings, cuz they rawk hardcore, yo.

My friend didn't live far from me, so I dropped him off. On the way to my house, I had a really bad urge to pee. In my town, the closer to my house, the less things are open past 10pm, and it was after 4am.

Less than a mile from my house, I couldn't stand it any more, so I pulled over into a parking lot, went around to the passenger side of my car, opened the door and dropped trou. What? Dude, I had to pee!

So, in the split second that I squtted down, BAM! I started to fall backwards. As instincts go, I put my right arm out to protect my fall. OW! Stupid instincts! I continue to tinkle with my throbbing wrist. Man my bladder was FULL! I know I was waiting for a while, or what seemed like forever because I just KNEW a car or better yet a COP would drive by. Thankfully no one did.

I finished up and continued home. I had to clean myself off because I know when I fell I landed in some pee. So while in the bathroom I was really starting to feel the pain of my wrist. MOTHERFUCKER!

Great. Just great. What a way to injure myself. I can see it now, "How'd you hurt your wrist?" "Oh, I was squatting to piss in a parking lot after drinking about 6 beers and fell backwards."

How is there any other way to explain that? "Oh I fell and tried to brace my fall?" I mean, that's kind of true.

I don't think I broke any bones because my wrist/arm isn't misshapen it just hurts like a fiery hot poker to the eye. So I wrapped it in my ace bandage and iced it down. Hopefully it will get better. If not, I'll just have to wait until January to have a doctor look at it. Stupid insurance.

29 Nove 07 - Damn you, electrically charged particals!

2009-04-12T21:01:00.000-04:00

The one thing I hate most about Winter, aside from the crapload of snow/ice that accumulates, is the static electricity that attacks my hair. While bothersome, for myself, it is also problematic because my hair is kind of long. When it gets fully charged, my hair sticks to everyone and everything. Ever heard of someone who sheds on their cats? Yeah, that's me.

The static wouldn't be such a problem if people would keep the heat down and stop trying to sweat us to death at work. I actually wore a jacket today, for the first time and when I put it on, I guess where it had been on my chair all day charging up, my hair stuck to my face and my coat and then reached for the ceiling a little. Argh!

I'm getting a promotion/raise at work soon. On December 10th I'll start training for Pends. I'm really excited about this since our data entry program will be changing and getting easier. I don't want to have a job where I sit at a computer in a coma all day doing test-monkey work. When I start, I'll only get a few $ raise, but once I get the hang of it, I can make up to $25/hour. Hellz yes it's sweet!

I'll finally be able to get ahead and not have to avoid calls from people who want money! Of course it will take a little while before I start seeing an improvement in my paycheck, but it's worth the wait.

Another one bit the dust this week as Granny finally quit. I could tell it was coming with her getting sick a lot and stressing out. She was gone for over a week because she was sick and Monday she came in and cleared out her desk. People keep dropping like flies! This job really isn't that hard or stressful. Maybe it is and I like it because you're required to think all day so it doesn't stress me out?

Why are there so many very strange people in one building? I think this question crosses my mind every day at work. Mostly about the people outside of my SBU. I was filling up my water bottle at the purified water machine and there was a girl actually waiting for me to finish, so she could walk behind me. See, there is another way she could have gone around. All she had to do was turn around, but that must have been too hard?

They are also weird in the bathroom. I drink a lot of water, so I take frequent trips to the restroom. I find it odd when I walk in and someone is in another cubical being really, really quiet. Like, if they are quiet and don't move, I won't know that they are in there taking a poop.

I really hate that because sometimes I talk to myself. Okay, a lot of times. I tend to be retarded and say some goofy shit when I think I'm alone. I don't know why I do it, but if I know someone is in earshot, I will try to be mindful of their presence and stay quiet instead of shouting things like "BEES!"

I've been trying to save money by bringing my lunch to work, and I just ended up feeding my new addiction: Nintendo DS. I play it on breaks and lunch. When I get home I play it for hours and the past few nights I have lost track of time, which is why I've been so fucking tired. I know, I'm an idiot. I can't help it, Zelda rawks hardcore, yo!

3 Nov 07 - Ew, you're nasty!

2009-04-12T20:56:00.000-04:00

You may or may not know that I am a bit OCD when it comes to germs. Not that I'm all germaphobic like Howie Mandel, but I've got pretty good hygiene. Well, good hygiene except on the weekends when I sometimes, okay most times, don't take a shower on Saturday unless I'm going somewhere substantial, like out to meet people.

Sure, I may not like to clean my bathroom and it gets a bit quarantine looking by the time I finally clean it, but I still bathe and wash my hair at least 5 out of 7 days a week. One thing I ALWAYS, A-L-W-A-Y-S do is wash my hands after I use the toilet. Not doing so is just nasty. Especially if you are at work and you touch dorknobs and other things that people will come behind you and touch.

What the piss is my point? Well, last night I was working and got to talking about hand sanitizer. You know, the gel alcohol stuff that you squirt in your hand, rub around and it evaporates while sanitizing your hands from germs? I started talking about it because there is one king, germ X, that is tourquoise and has a purple flower on the front, and smells really good! Unlike the purell crap, I like the smell of this stuff and it has been hard to find.

Well, a girl sitting next to me had a bottle and I asked her where she got it, then we started talking about using it and washing our hands. That lead us to a conversation about people we work with who don't wash their hand after they've used the toilet. What's even worse is someone who didn't wash her hands after changing her tampon. GAG!!! Even worse than THAT, someone flushed one of the toilets in the cubicle and left shit on the handle!

Now, not only do I want to run out and buy a box of latex gloves and toilet seat covers, I don't want to use the toilet at work unless I have to. Going in there makes me want to just gag. Which has happened once. Using the restroom and leaving feeling like I needed a shower.

I don't know if someone pissed on the toilet seat or if they just had major swap ass and sweated all over the seat, but I once sat down and my butt got wet. Ew. Add a box of wet ones to my list of restroom supplies.

So, after work, I went to a walmart and found two bottles of the germ-X that I've been looking for. If anyone knows where I can pick up some toilet seat covers, sent me an email. I'm going to have to put a potty kit together for my trips to the restroom at work.

Why are people so fucking nasty? Sickos! Maybe I'll have to bring my can of Lysol spray to work? Forget that, I need it at home, I'll just buy a new cam for work, along with some wipey things.

Am I being a bit out of control about this or does my reaction seem normal? I mean I know I'm going to touch some nasty shit, but it doesn't have to be that nasty and make me sick! I would rather just smack some sense into these fools and make them wash they damn hands! Sorry, I went a bit "black" on ya'll but ornery dumbasses like that just piss me off.

Do you work with nasty fucks like that? Do you work with nasty asses only aren't aware of it maybe? You should totally call them out on being gross cuz ya'll know that I'm going to hit the point home about hand washing at work next week, and very loudly. Cuz people be nasty.

25 Oct 07 - Genetically fucked loser.

2009-04-12T20:52:00.000-04:00

I've actually wanted to blog for a few days, but have been too lazy. . .erm, tired to write anything. I started working overtime so I can catch up on my bills and not be so damn behind on my stupid bills and actually have money for stuff like food and gas.

This morning I was stuck in traffic for EVER! It was a nightmare. Backed up forever and I was running out of gas. I barely made it to work, not to mention I was late and I hate being late. Imagine that; me hating to be late to work. I know.

Anyway, during lunch, I went to get gas and lunch at Meijer. Since I don't get paid until tonight, I was going to float a check because I'm broke as a ghetto bitch on the 30th of the month waiting for her welfare check. Well, apparently Meijer has a new check system that automatically debits your money from your account and my shit was declined. Super.

I spend the next 20 minutes trying to figure out what the piss to do and the manager lady told me I had to come back by 7:30 tonight to pay or my shit would be turned over to the police. Nice. Cuz I was totally trying to steal $28 worth of gasoline n stuff.

So, that took up my entire lunch hour and I didn't eat because I didn't have any money to buy any food. I got a tuna salad sandwich on break from the vending machine and it kind of sucked. Bad.

I also, finally, got my manager to approve my ergo keyboard so I can type better at work. Turns out it isn't going to work as well as I hoped. It beeps every time I press the tab button, which I use often, and some of the keys delete characters when it's not supposed to delete them.

See if I had the money, I'd go buy and updated one that wouldn't be all fucked up, but now I'll just have to go back to the shitty one with the keys that stick.

Why do I always have such shitty losery luck? Is it because I was born into a family of redneck losers? Am I genetically predispositioned to be a loser and suck at life? What the piss? How can I break this curse of loserness? It's really frustrating and is pissing me off. Seriously.

Also, being that I'm broke as fuck, I'm going to go see a movie tomorrow anyway. Haha! Hmm. . . maybe that's why I'm broke as fuck? Oh wellz. I'm going to go see Saw 4, bitches! At least that small amount of fun can mask my loserness for an hour or two.

Oh! Do you ever think that thoughts you have cause things to happen? Like, did you ever see a really pretty girl and hope she tripped, then she totally fell down the stairs like a day or two later? Well, the past few days I was hoping that a person I worked with would be quiet because she was talking a lot and asking a lot of questions. Well, today she complained of chest pain and was taken to the hospital. Did my evil thoughts cause her to have a heart attack? I didn't mean to kill her I just wanted her to shut up! OMG I'm totally the satan!

14 Sept 07 - Sparky McFadderson!

2009-04-12T20:51:00.000-04:00

What a long assed week! We are still in training at work, and instead of finishing up by the twenty first or fourth or whatever, we will probably be in training until October 1st.

No, it's not because we are remedial fucking idiots with brain damage, it's because people aren't doing their job! We have to access two systems and only half of us have user names and passwords for it and it's slowing us down. So each day that we run out of shit to do, we just get read to like we were all four years old. I've done so many sudoku puzzles, I'm almost finished with all the easy ones and there are over 100 of them!

One good thing, no, great thing happened this week. Granny brought me some patches to put on my back and ZOMG! I have never slept better in my life (that I can remember. drunk nights don't count.) I had zero back pain and didn't know what to do with myself!

I really needed those especially after I mowed the yard Wednesday. My back hurt so bad when I finished that I could hardly walk. I put one of those thingys on and *poof* like a Mr.Clean Magic Eraser, the pain was erased! I'm totally going to get addicted to sticky back patches! Ha! Wonder if they have rehab for that?

Anyways, a few people at work are becoming empowered with their know-it-all-ness. They like to pipe up when someone is wrong, and point it out that "they" have the right answer. One of them is Prego Doody Smoker and her partner I'mPerfect.

Well today, ADD and myself were trying to pull up our batch to review with the rest of the class, and I had mistakenly closed it and released it into the system. Well, while I searched for instructions in my book on how to get it back, I'mPerfect came over and comondeered my effing keyboard! Once I found what I was looking for, noticed she was in the wrong damn place anyway, I told her I could do it. Did she leave? Fucking hell no she didn't! She stayed there and continued to fuck up until she finally pulled up our shit. Wow. I totally could have been done in half the time it took her to fix it for me. Thanks. I have no idea what I would have done without her help.

Well, at lunch, Prego Doody Smoker and I'mPerfect sat at the table with myself, ADD, Limpy, and Granny. Why? I have no fucking clue! They shared tidbits on how RottenTeeth was annoying and how he was helping people who didn't ask for it. Wait for it. . . Yes I'mPerfect said she only helped people who asked for it. BWAHAHAHA! My ASS!! All the rest of us were thinking the same thing, YEAH RIGHT!

Another good thing, that went bad was in our dining room area, one of the Coke vending machines was broken. But in a good way! You could put one quarter in the machine and it would be spat back out, but the currency counter would register $.25. So if you put the same quarter in the machine four times, pressed your selection, you got a free drink! It was sweet ass, until someone fixed it. Now it's boo.

I hung out with my friend K after work for a bit today. He's got the cutest lil doggie, SPARKY MCFADDERSON! Ha! You love it. His dog totally hits on chicks when they walk past the patio. He's like a dog version of my cat, but I believe Elton is a bit fatter.

Okay, I've got to go cuz Dr.Who is on and I'm distracted. OMG! Speaking of Dr.Who, there is a paper towel dispenser in the hall next to our office and each time you pull down a sheet, it sounds just LIKE the Tardis! Cheers if you know what the piss I'm talking about!

4 Sept 07 - Don't knock the nose-pon

2009-04-12T20:47:00.000-04:00

What a busy flipping weekend. Monday, since I got a paid day off, I took advantage of that and did lots of stuff. I went to the grocery, did laundry, mowed the yard, made dinner, cleaned the shitter box, and took out the trash. When I finished mowing the yard, aside from feeling like I was having a heart attack, I had a sneeze attack. Then my brain must have melted because it started running out of my left nostril. Then I would sneeze some more.

I sneezed so hard, I shot snot across the room and onto my mirror. That was a pretty sweet feat if you ask me. I took some generic sudafed so I could sleep, but that wore off and I forgot to refuel this morning. So all day my left nostril and left eye leaked.

Since we had an assessment this morning, I was getting on my own nerves with the sniffles and blowing of the nose noises. I took a square of toilet paper and crammed it in my nose hole. This stopped the constant flow of snot and it stopped my eye from watering. GENIUS!

Every so often I'd have to change my nosepon because it would get soaked with goo. I've got one in my nose as we speak. Sure it looks funny, and people look at you like you got popped in the nose, but it works! From one angle it looks like a really big booger. I just hope I don't push the tissue up too far that I lose it. I would attempt to put a small tampon up there, you know, cuz it has a string, but I might not be able to get it out since they expand with absorption.

Class has actually gotten better. I've befriended the three I last spoke of, which now means I can make fun of all their idosyncrasies and that makes them laugh, which makes me HILARIOUS!

We have collectively joined forces and hate the other side of the desk now. Especially one girl, Miss "I can teach class better than the teacher." Because she obviously knows more than our teacher, and lets us know this. So we just laugh and make fun of her. Her illness has spread to the smoking preggo woman too because she too tries to teach things. Ha! Like the blind leading the blind. I'll learn on my own and from the real teacher, thanks.

27 Aug 07 - Got Brain Damage?

2009-04-12T20:45:00.000-04:00

Not this past weekend, but the weekend before that, I went to Richmond and hung out with some mofo at a bar and listend to a good cover band. On the way back, yes I'd have a few, okay more than a few, but as I do when I'm a passenger in a car, I was reading street signs. When we drove past one, I saw "Got Brain Damage?" I was like "What?"

Well I started my new job the monday after and just so happened to drive by that same sign on my way in. I noticed that it did NOT say "Got BRAIN Damage," but it actually said, "Got HAIL Damage?" Clearly I am the one with brain damage to think that HAIL spells BRAIN. It was quite funny at the time.

So Monday, I got to work and we had orientation for all the new people starting in the different areas, which lasted about 2 hours. We were done for the day and our group was told to come back on Wednesday. Sweet! All that hard work and a day off!

Wednesday morning I got there bright and early, cuz we're sposed to, but I wasn't as early as everyone else cuz the room was already almost full by the time I got there.

Nineteen of us, plus our leader, were crammed in a tiny room around the size of a master bedroom in a normal sized house. Only half of the computers in the room worked, and it was hot. Talk about suckage. All day we got read to and got to take notes. By the end of the day my hand cramped from all the writing.

The next day is where things get good. See, on the real second day of hanging out with the same people, you start to take notice of those people, what they do and what they say.

There is one girl, she's only a few month's preggers, but looks like she's in her second trimester. I think she's just a fatty. She is also a smoker. That pisses me of more than anything because she's not even trying to quit! Every break she's lighting up.

Also, she was late coming back from break and made a comment about it, saying something about, "but I had to doody real bad." Um, ew. Seriously? Out of all the words from the dictionary to select from to describe that you had to use the restroom, you choose "doody?" Wow. Later, I hear her curse her computer by saying again, "aww doody!" I have no words for you, you large waste of space.

Now, the second day, I got to sit at a computer, and had a few different people sitting around me. This was made evident by the continuous smell of shit in the air. Yes. It smelled of shit. And baby powder. I am still unsure if it was doody lady, or if it was Shaniqua sitting next to me. Whoever it was, it was fucking foul!

Now, on our first day, we were told that if we fell asleep, we'd be fired. Well, on our second day of training, Shaniqua and her shit smelling ass kept falling asleep, and doody woman kept scrolling her screen down to make it look like girl was paying attention. Of course, I took it upon myself to let the instructor know during break, that Shaniqua was falling asleep. A lot. He kept trying to watch her, but she was never caught. Damn. One day. Maybe.

Not that I want to get people fired, but I'm really just helping weed out the useless fucks in the class.

Talk about some worthless idiots! OMG!!! These are the dumbest people ever! They are always asking questions that have NOTHING to do what we are learning! Seriously. Shut the fuck up. They are the reason we take 5 hours to go over one section. Then they don't pay attention. Someone asked a question two days after someone previously had asked the same damn question. Holy piss, morons!

If I'm describing to you how to put an engine together on a car, don't ask me what my worst speeding ticket was! No relevance!!

There are a couple of cool people in the class. They seem smart and together. About 5 actually. The rest are fucking idiots.

Oh, one guy! Oh man, this guy. This guy and his teeth. YIKES!!!! For serious. I have never seen things in a person's mouth so far away from resembling teeth than that in this guy's mouth. He's got two big, whitish front teeth, that remind me of the briar rabbit. The rest of the crap, I have no idea. It's all blackish and rotted, and I can't even bring myself to take a closer, longer look. Seriously, I tried, but started to vomit. This guy always smells like a big dirty ashtray too.

I don't even want to get started on Grandma, Limpy and A.D.D. Good lawd! Grandma just got 21 teeth pulled and cut out. How do I know? The first three days, she made it a point to tell everyone this fact. She is also suffering from hot flashes, panic attacks, and high blood pressure, because she talks loudly and likes to submit very personal details to a group of people of whom she does not know.

Limpy, limpster, she's just annoying. Oh good night! She got on my nerves from day 1. Always making cutsie remarks and chiming in at all the wrong moments, trying to become funny and the pet. Oh honey, good luck, but you're just pissing people off. She's got a boot on one of her legs, probably from when her husband tried to break her ankle or something, trying to get her to shut up.

A.D.D. is just some kind of stupid. She's really cute and very dumb. On the first day she announced that she has ADD, and has evidentally made zero effort to work with her doctor to get this under control because she is alway lost, can never wait for break and won't sit still. I think it's a fucking show and she needs to sit her ass down and pay attention.

I mean, seriously. I was diagnosed with adult ADHD, and worked with a psychiatrist to cope, and work through the problem. This bitch ain't trying. If she is, my ass is shiny and I shit golden eggs.

Well those three seem to be bff and alway have to sit next to one another. They are the chattyest hens in the coop. I keep trying to get a good seat, but because of my learning situation, I seat myself in the front of the class, near the instructor, and crazy, smelly, retards seem to follow. Fuck!

7 Aug 08 - Mother FUCK! !!

2009-04-12T20:40:00.000-04:00

So, I lost my temp job yesterday. I got a message to call the temp agency since I missed their call, and the woman answering the phone told me to call in the morning, and to not report to my assignment. I thought maybe someone was worried about my funky eye and didn't want me to come in until I had a dr. note or something.

Well, this morning I called a bit after 8am, and was told that my assignment was over. They cited insubordination. INSUBORDINATION!?!? For realz? How the holy fuck was I insubordinate? I did everything those fucks asked of me. Maybe they didn't like that I did my shit so fast and played on the internet when I didn't have anything to do? I dunno.

So, now I'm looking for another job. Weee fuck. I really hate job hunting. At least tomorrow I get to pick up my check and try to pay my car loan so Josh from Chase will stop calling me.

I'm really just not having a good time this year. My eye is better now, but I can't get rid of the shits. I seriously seem to have asplosive diarrhea daily, and think when I took the "stop the shits" pill, is when my ankles swelled up. Maybe it's the heat? Maybe I've been drinking too much water? I dunno, but I sure wish I'd start shitting solids again! It makes it hard to shop.

Like today, since I didn't have a job to go to, I did some work in the yard. After a while, I realized I needed some gardening gloves so I went to Kmart. I had to leave there pretty quickly, after discovering they didn't have anything I wanted, because I had to poop.

I couldn't stop at the dollar store or anywhere else because I felt the pressure rising and my ass was about to blow, so I went home. After I crapped, of course, I went back to the dollar store and got some garden gloves and tools then came home and worked in the yard some more.

Let me tell you, it's called yard WORK for a reason. If it were fun, it'd be called yard FUN. My arms and hands are so damn sore, but at least the bushes are starting to look better. We have some three foot tall thistle growing all over the back yard and that shit is prickly! I tried cutting some of that shit down, but kept getting stuck. Ya'll know what happened last time I messed around in the yard, I ended up sick with poison ivy for a week, then got the itchy rash.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you what I did to my foot. Since it's summertime and I've been wearing sandals all the time, my feet are rough and callused. I have this little thingy with a razor blade on one end that shaves away the rough dead skin. Well, the other night I got a bit overzealous with that thingy and took a huge fucking chunk out of my heel.

As I played with the skin, I looked down at my heel to notice the blood oozing out of it. It's not bad, but it sure as hell isn't pretty. It never ceases to amaze me the stupid shit I end up doing to myself. I'm actually just happy I didn't chop my fingers off while clipping away at the bushes today! LMAO!!!

27 Jul 07 - New Job

2009-04-12T20:38:00.000-04:00

In my job search, I went to a temp agency since they tend to get you placed quicker and pay much faster. I initially had a job interview set up for last Friday, but when I got to the temp place, the woman I was supposed to meet with didn't have her schedule book, so the interview was postponed until Monday.

Well, I was up all night moving, and thought I got a call from the temp service real early, but I could have been dreaming because I didn't see their number on my list of calls. I got an email a little later saying that the law firm I was supposed to interview with never called the temp place back, but they had forwarded on my resume to another place downtown.

Since I wasn't going to be doing any interviews, I went ahead and did more moving. I got a call that afternoon saying the office downtown wanted me to start the next day, Tuesday morning. That was pretty awesome, since I didn't have to interview or anything, but they told me the job was only for 2 months. Whatever, just get me monies!

Well, Monday night, I had trouble going to sleep and only got about 3-4 hours of sleep then it was time to get up and get ready for work. I was so damn tired, but tried to be happy and cheerful. I wore a nice business suit dress, and noticed when I got there, I was clearly overdressed. Not that they were all dressed in jeans and tshirts, but more casual.

So, I'm learning about who does what and what goes where, and of course it makes no sense to me because it's my first day. Plus, I forgot to take my medicine the night before and I felt all dizzy and passy-outish every time I stood up or walked.

I was able to grasp the basics of being the receptionist, because I'd just answer the phone and file stuff. Filing was only hard because I had on shoes that hurt my feet and every time I moved, I wore a blister on my heel. Later I found that my shoes hurt because my feet were all swollen.

I didn't have computer access, so I just sat at the desk, trying to look busy and answering the phone, pretending I was Pam from The Office. A few times I went outside and smoked with a group of 4 who all seem to have a dislike for one woman in the office.

I quickly like this group of 4 because they are mean, like myself, and funny. Even though I spent most of my first day filing, the job is only from 8-5 and I really like it. I mean, I'm not doing much really. Answering phones, stuffing envelopes and filing stuff.

After I got home on the first day, I finished up my moving but on the second day, I went straight to bed. No shit. I went to bed at 5:45, got up around 11 to clean out the litter box and change, then went back to bed. I actually did the same thing last night, but I got up at 11 to change, then went back to bed. When I got up this morning, my feet weren't swollen, but when I got up to the office, my left foot started swelling a little. FUCK! Why won't you stay normal, foot? I'm drinking water, and only water and it sucks. I'm pissing like a mad cow, and my foot still looks like I borrowed it from Fred Flintstone.

Anyway, on my second day at work I got access to the computer and was able to keep myself occupied with some surfing. I was a bit hesitant to get on my normal sites, but once I saw that myspace was already in the internet history, I logged right on. HA!

So, here I sit, I'm bored right now, but am getting ready to ask for some work so I don't fall asleep. Hopefully I'll be able to get some shit done at home this weekend and try to get organized. At least I don't have to work weekends! YAY!

25 Jul 07 - The move

2009-04-12T20:37:00.000-04:00

Okay, for the record, in case you didn't already know, moving sucks; doing it alone sucks huge manatee balls and then some. I started packing Saturday night, and did as much as I could before I got tired, which was pretty late.

I got up Sunday and packed some more, then started hauling shit in my car. Since I was up late Saturday, I didn't get up until after noon on Sunday. Well, I made about four trips before I finally called it quits around 2am.

I was supposed to have an interview Monday at some point, but the company never called the temp service back, so I just went and packed up more shit and hauled it to my new place.

I tried to rent a UHaul, but those are way too damn expensive, and I only had $60, so I kept trying to ask various friends if they would help. I mean, I tried to ask on Sunday, but no one would call me back, or was available to help. So I kept moving shit in my car.

Oh yeah, I got another note taped to my door Sunday morning from bitch face about needing to be out "THAT DAY" or she would have the sherrif serve an eviction notice. Blah, blah, blah. Her past few notes had been on bright pink construction paper, written in black marker, so I wrote her a note back, on 14x14" paper, in black marker, letting her know I would get the rest of my stuff Monday, because I couldn't fit everything in my car, no matter how hard I tried. Of course I underlined random words and circled a few, just to mock her.

Towards the middle of Monday, my only truck lead was in Vegas, and no one else would help. Not knowing what to do, and wanting very badly to get the hell out of that apartment, I called on my friend Todd again. He had been busy working the previous day, and I knew he'd be busy working again today, but I had no other options.

Thankfully, he lent his son and nephew to me. They came over and moved all of my big and heavy furniture. It took longer than I had expected because we didn't have any straps to tie shit down with, but we got it taken care of in two trips, loading up my car too.

Talk about awesome! Justin and Tim had already worked a full day with Todd and came over to help me. I really appreciate them for helping, and Todd for letting us use the truck and trailor. Thanks guys!!!

So, we finished up around 1am, and I laid down around 2am, but didn't fall asleep until after 3, I know. Well, I had to be up and at a job at 8am, so my ass was fucking tired come 6am, which of course, I didn't get up until 630. (I'll write more about the job stuff in a seperate blog. This one is for moving.)

Well, I still had a few things left at the old shit hole that I needed to get out before I could hand over my keys, so after work I went home, ate and changed. I packed in as much crap as I could, not wanting to make a second trip back, but I was defeated by the laws of physics. Dammit!

I drove my stuff home and had to go inside and lie down for a few minutes because I felt ill. I seriously felt like I was going to vomit. While lying down, I noticed that my feet and ankles were really swollen. I felt like my fingers were swollen that day, but never paid much attention to it.

I got up and unpacked my car. I mustered all my strength to get the last little bit in and leaned over to vomit, but nothing came up. Thank God, because I really hate to throw up, and I would have hated puking in the front yard. LOL

I sat down for a little bit, then ventured back to get the last remaining items of my shit. One of which, was my kittie's other litter box. See, I have two of them, one for each cat, but only brought one with me initially. I was trying to conserve the litter, but once I got it in my car and saw there wouldn't be enough room, I dumped the litter out.

Oh, where did I dump the litter? In that bitches garden. HAHAHA! While I was packing up the rest of my things, I saw a little dog walk by and take a piss right where I dumped the litter. SWEET!!

Once I piled everything in my car, I took a strip of masking tape, stuck both keys to it, then taped it to the outside of skank's screen door. Did I mention how dirty I left the place? Yeah, I wasn't about to clean up, one because I'm stubborn, and two, because I was fucking worn the fuck out! Plus I left a few treats behind, like some old magazines, clothes, food in the fridge and freezer, and the elliptical machine I got a few years ago. That thing was too heavy to move, I wasn't about to take it apart, plus it didn't work all that great. Not to mention the limited space left in the house because of all of my shit, that thing wouldn't even fit!

Last night, while unpacking the last and final load of crap, I noticed how big of a help my roommate was by helping me because I had to do this stuff all by myself. At least I got my bed put together and the tv working for now.

21 Jul 07 - Let's do this, I'm a cashew.

2009-04-12T20:35:00.000-04:00

Technically, this blog is ONLY for my FRIENDS. I'm actually going to be going through my list and deleting a bunch of you fucks whom I accepted as a friend, but know you are just reading my blog to find out what the fuck I'm saying about you. So, all you bitches are about to get kicked the fuck out of my blog and my friend's list. How do ya like me now?

Anyway, I thought since times are a changing, I should update you about what's going on. Even though I really like keeping some of you in suspense, I won't. haha I keed! I keed!

I'm currently packing my shit and will be moving as much of it as possible tomorrow. I found a place to live with a friend of mine who has a house close to Lexington. It was kind of awesome for my friend to do this for me.

On Friday, I got a funny note on bright pink paper taped to my glass door. It was from my landlord telling me that if I didn't pay her the rest of the rent by that day, then I needed to be out by that day. Aww, how sweet! I wrote her a letter back, with $100 inside letting her know I would try to get the rest for her this weekend. I apologized for not getting back to her sooner, but I'd been busy looking for a job.

I also let her know that the house I was moving in to wouldn't be ready until Sunday, so unfortunately for me, if she wanted me out, she'd have to have a court order stating I wouldn't be allowed on the premises. Then I made a joke, saying, thank God it isn't supposed to rain this weekend! Of course, I thanked her for being so patient and understanding with me. Ha! This morning I woke up and saw that she'd put a For Rent sign in my yard.

About the job search, I went to a temp service, and they got me an interview with a law firm on Monday. It's temp to hire and pays more than my last job, plus has benifits and I won't have to work on weekends. So, suck on that punks! HA! Print this blog out and wipe your ass with it for all I care!

That's what has been going on in the life of me this week. I'd love to stay and chat but I've got more packing to do.

14 Jul 07 - Awww, I fucked up. Dammit!!!

2009-04-12T20:27:00.000-04:00

Ooooh MY GOD!!! I really wanted to beat this woman with a very heavy metal object because my shoe just wouldn't do enough damage to her fat ass.

So, this crazy cunt comes into the store this afternoon. I start out all nice, as usual and offer to help her with an upgraded phone. I go over the phones with her, and she spouts off about a discount she gets that offers the phone at $50 off. I check out the information for the FAN she gave me, which says nothing about $50 off any equipment or accessories.

Bitch loses her mind. She starts flipping out because what it says online doesn't correspond with some fucking note she got from the breakroom or some bullshit. I told her I could sell her a phone at the discounted price, but she didn't like the cheapest one we had. I told her sorry, and if she wanted, she could go to a corporate location.

Then she starts flipping out because she's on her lunch break and doesn't have time to go to another location. Again, I say sorry, and tell her I can offer her a phone at the listed price. She leaves, but comes back 20 seconds later and accuses me of breaking her phone. Hey dumbass, that shit was busted when you brought it in here.

She starts rambling on again about wanting a phone wtih $50 off, but I told her, sorry I couldn't do that, but if she brought the letter to me, I'd consider it. She flips out again, stands in front of me all pissed off-like, sort of looking like a very chubby chicken, and I tell her that we can either activate her a phone, or she can stand there shaking her head, wasting time.

So that pisses crazy Bertha off even more, she leaves, but not before calling me a bitch as she gets to the door to walk out. Why thank you! :) I didn't know she cared!

Well, 10 minutes later, the cow comes back with a generic typed up letter saying she gets a 10% discount off service, correct, and $50 off a new phone and accessories, wrong-o beeyotch. She slammed the paper on my desk and demanded a phone. I Told her to take her fat crazy ass on, because I wasn't going to help her with her being all out of control. She asks my name, I don't tell her, duh, but she picks up a business card and says my name. Then I say, "Yeah, I think that's me, it might not be though!"

She screams, "I'm going to call and complain about you!" To which I reply, "I'm already making notes about what a crazy ass bitch you are."

I guess that made her cry, because she stalked Tom down in the parking lot, crying, and pleaded with him to activate her a new phone. She said she wanted to come in here, but only if I went to the back or some shit. Fuck her! You know I sat right here the whole time and typed this blog! Breathe in my nasty farts you ugly fuck!

So, I hope she gets in trouble, because she's late getting back from lunch cuz Tom takes forever to activate a phone. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Damn, I need a cigarette.

16 Jun 07 - Screw you J-Hole!

2009-04-12T20:19:00.000-04:00

I'm still sick. I still hate being sick. Instead of being stuffed up and congested, the snot is loose and trailing down my throat. Now I cough and sound like I've been up crying all night. My eyes started watering yesterday. I was waiting for someone to ask why I was crying, but since I sound like death, I think they put two and two together.

Have any of you seen "The Closer" on TNT? It's got Kyra Sedgwick and GW Bailey (From the Police Acadamy movies.) Anyway, my tivo recorded some episodes for me since I hadn't watched it in a while, and I decided to be more like the character Brenda while I'm at work.

It's kind of hard to explain her because she's nice, like "Southern" nice, and smiles and says "Thank you," a lot. Then when she has a smart assed comment, she says it very politely with a smile.

Well, I've been working on perfecting this character for myself and I got to practice yesterday. A guy came in with his phone, box in at&t bag and everything. First he wanted help putting the SIM card from his old phone into his new Blackberry. No problem. Doing that is so simple, even a cave man could do it.

THEN, he wanted me to sit down and show him how to use his blackberry. Normally, I wouldn't mind to, but we were getting close to closing, the other girl was working with a customer and there was a lot of shit that needed to be done. I told him to go back to where his device was purchased and they could help him there. He got all confused and asked why I wouldn't help him. Then he got mad when I told him I couldn't help him because he chose to give the commission to another store, therefore paying them to help him, not us.

See, the owners have repeatedly told us not to help customers that didn't purchase their equipment or service from our location. We are independantly owned and are not obligated to provide service to other customers. Even though, most of the time I do help them if it's a small simple task like switching the SIM or something. Explaining how to use a phone, fuck that. Especially a blackberry,that takes forever. Well it would have taken forever because this guy was such a retard he couldn't figure out how to put his old SIM card in his new phone!

Well, the pissed off mouth breather took my card, loudly claimed that I was providing shitty customer service and stamped and grunted off. While I said "Thank you," and "Have a great day!"

It was kind of funny actually. I have a harder time being as polite to j-holes on the phone though, so that's something I have to work on.

10 May 08 - Being nice is hard

2009-04-12T20:06:00.000-04:00

It really is hard work being nice. It's easy with my coworkers, because they are cool, but with crazy customers, being nice is hard.

Sometimes I catch myself wanting to say something snotty, but hold back. Of course I wait until they leave to be a smartass. Not like I can hold out for long. Ha!

This past week has been so crazy, I hardly know when I'm coming or going! It's not just that it always seems that I've got a million things to do, but it really has been busy at our store! I'm kind of excited, but stressed out at the same time.

Everyone has been doing such a great job, I just don't want it to blow up in my face. Umm, kind of like the fuck up I made this morning. The schedule changed and I forgot to change the time in my phone. So, instead of opening the store this morning, like I was supposed to, I came in late.

I made up for it by passing our Audit though, so the boss couldn't stay mad at me for long. Ha!

3 Mar 07 - Attack o the smelly poop

2009-04-12T20:04:00.000-04:00

I'm working in Lawrenceburg today, only because I think my boss didn't want to work late, so instead of him working here, he switched with me, and he worked Harrodsburg.

I don't mind working here at all. It's been pretty steady with lots of customers coming in and out all day. The only problem I have is the bathroom. Oh. Em. Gee. There is some rauncy shit afoot in the Cingular bathroom.

I had to pee so, I go pee. When I flushed, the water did not go down the drain, but it swirled around in circles for a bit, and the water level rose. Haha, well maybe it's the dumb blonde in me, but I flushed the toilet again. Okay, logic points to, "Don't flush the toilet" but I second guessed myself thinking I didn't really flush it all the way the first time, so I did it again. Uhh....hahahaha, um...yeah I should not have done that.

The water level rose, but slowly. I grabbed the plunger and the only good that did was make the toilet paper a swishy mess in the water. A little water splashed on the floor while I was plunging away, so I stopped. Fuck that. I decided I should wait until the water level went down a bit before I would try to plunge again.

Hahahahah! You! Oh you! So funny! That is when I noticed squishy shit rising from the drain in the floor, along with some foul water. Ew. *gag* What the hell? I try to pour a little water to make the doodie go back into it's hole, but no. It stayed there. In fact, it's still there. It. Smells. Funky.

I called the boss to let him know that this was a problem I could not fix, so he told me to open the back door to try and get rid of the smell. Andrea brought by some liquid plummer, but you can't use that on toilets. I tried pouring some down the drain in the floor, well, now there is a puddle of poopie water with draino stuff.

Being a plumber is NOT in my job description. I can try to fix my own shitter at home, but I know I'm the only one who's been pissing and crapping in that thing. I have no idea who's ass has been dropping off their loads, and I'm not about to clean this shit up. Literally. Plus I wouldn't even know where to begin. I'm not going to scoop it up with paper towles. Ew! No thank you.

So, I'm hanging out at the store, stuck here until 7. At least it stopped snowing. I'm supposed to go out tonight, but I don't even know if I'll be up for it. I guess it depends on how the rest of this day goes. Whatever happens, I know I won't be using the bathroom for at least another 2 hours.

2 Mar 07 - Lithium

2009-04-12T19:30:00.000-04:00

I'm a fucking idiot. I finished this blog last night, but when I made the updates, I forgot to open it to everyone. Sorry!

While driving to work this morning, I got to really listen to the song Lithium by Evanescence. I mean, REALLY listen to the song. You know, aren't there times when you're listening to a tune, not paying attention to the words, but the beat and lyrics get stuck in your head and you find yourself singing along? Well that's what happened with Lithium this morning.

I will admit, after hearing this song the first few times, I had no idea Amy Lee was saying "Lithium" in the song. I mean, she drags the word out for 3 measures, so only when I heard the annoucer say the name of the song, did I actually get it.

Once I understood the title and paid closer attention to the lyrics, did I realize she was singing about her crazy drugs. Holy fuck! How bad is your creativity that you need to go and write lyrics to a song about your happy pills? Then I thought to myself, "Self, how fucking hard could it be to dedicate and write a song about one's happy pills?" Not very fucking hard.

Exhibit A: Lyrics to Lithium, by Evanescence

Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.
Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...
Lithium, I want to stay in love with my sorrow.
Oh, but God, I want to let it go.

Come to bed, don't make me sleep alone.
Couldn't hide the emptiness, you let it show.
Never wanted it to be so cold.
Just didn't drink enough to say you love me.

I can't hold on to me,
Wonder what's wrong with me.

Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.
Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...
Lithium, I want to stay in love with my sorrow.

Don't want to let it lay me down this time.
Drown my will to fly.
Here in the darkness I know myself.
Can't break free until I let it go.
Let me go.

Darling, I forgive you after all.
Anything is better than to be alone.
And in the end I guess I had to fall.
Always find my place among the ashes.

I can't hold on to me,
Wonder what's wrong with me.

Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.
Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...
Lithium, ...stay in love with my sorrow.
I'm gonna let it go

Now, for entertainment purposes only, I have written a song about MY happy pills, Effexor. Or should it be the generic name, Venlafaxine? Eh, what the shit, I'll go with Effexor this time and if you want, substitute the word Venlafaxine when you see Effexor.

Effexor, to the tune of Lithium, lyrics by Teresa,

Effexor, got to get that dose inside
Effexor, don't want to forget to take my
Effexor, I'm not longer sad and psycho
Oh shit, my script is getting low

Before bed, in the morning or afternoon
Take with food or you'll be shitting soon
Never want to have withdrawls
Spinning room, headaches and nausia really suck

I don't care when people ask
What the hell is wrong with me

Effexor, got to get that dose inside
Effexor, don't want to forget to take my
Effexor, I'm not longer sad and psycho

Careful when you drink, it really fucks you up
But it's fun to try
Don't get me wrong I'm still a bitch
With a smile I'll tell you "Go to Hell"
Go to hell

No more crying for no reason at all
Anxiety attacks are almost gone
To get more pills I know I have to call
XR Capsules are much better than tablets

I'm a much happier me
So fuck you if you don't agree

Effexor, got to get that dose inside
Effexor, don't want to forget to take my
Effexor, I'm not longer sad and psycho
Oh shit, don't want it to get too low

25 Jan 07 - Customers suck

2009-04-12T19:27:00.000-04:00

I had a customer yesterday that while upgrading his phone, asked if he could change his numbers so they wouldn't be long distance for people in Lexington to call. Sure, no problem. I can change your number for $36, that will be added to your next bill. He seemed pleased and wanted to change both numbers. As I checked for sequential numbers for him, he seemed comfused. He wanted to keep both of his numbers.

"Um...you mean you want the last 4 to remain the same?"

"No, I want to keep the whole number the same and just make it local."

Okay genius, it doesn't work that way. I had to explain to him how each service city had a set prefix and you can't just make any number local. Seriously? You didn't know this? You're like 60, and you didn't know this? Huh?

The same day I had a 70 year old guy come in and ask me to show him how to send a picture from his phone. He said other stores were able to do it, but something is wrong with the phone, because he is unable to send a picture to an email address. Yeah, sounds like a user error to me, super man.

I walk him through each step of how to send a picture. I have to do this in super slow motion so Rip Van Winkle can catch on. Both times I attempted to send a picture, they went through successfully. There isn't a problem with the phone. I tell him that if he's not getting the pictures at the email address he's sending them to, he needed to check with his email company and make sure there isn't a block or firewall on the server to prevent things like this from being accepted.

"This is the company email. There aren't any problems with it."

"Well, sir, there aren't any problems with your phone, and I was able to get the message from MY email address, so it'd be a good idea just to check."

What a dickhead! His equally ancient friend tried to make an excuse for his buddy not knowing jack about his phone by saying, "You know how guys are, we never read a manual for anything! hahaha" Shut the fuck up Cletus.

Now, I know I can't be the only person to see these next type of people. They are the people who look normalish from one direction, but when you get a really good look at them, they seem to be one chromosome away from having down syndrome. Am I wrong? I know you've seen them! I know you have!!!

I've had two encounters with these people, and both were fucking idiots! Well, I assume one was because I didn't actually interact with her. I was at the grocery doing my food shopping with my headset on, listening to my music and down syndrome woman looked at me like I was an alien. I was trying to push my cart past her, and she couldn't figure out what to do. Um...MOVE! It's that simple. Yeah, we danced for a few minutes before she decided to move her big ass out of the way.

Another almost-down syndrome kid came into the Lexington store this morning. He is a prepaid customer and couldn't figure out why he was getting charged so much for his pick your plan automatic deduction. Come to find out, he had his bank stop payment on his prepaid plan. Well, you can't do that. With the prepaid pick your plan, you have to have the amount automatically deducted from an account each month. Now, it doesn't have to be a checking account, it can be a debit card or credit card. Even a prepaid credit card would do.

Well, he was using his checking account, and his checks kept coming back as returned, thus adding a returned check fee to his balance. I tried to tell him, if he wanted to cancel his account, he had to call and do that, not just refuse to pay. He left the store, still confused, but I tried to explain things as best I could, like I would to a 4 year old. No hope for this guy.

24 Jan 07 - You've lost that blogging feeling

2009-04-12T19:26:00.000-04:00

I love blogging. I love blogging more than jogging. Yeah it doesn't make sense, but so fucking what, I thought it was cute. You thought you were about to enter a Doctor fucking Seuss book huh? Don't lie, I know you did.

Something has happened to my blog drive as of late. I don't know if it's the pull of the moon in venus or whatever that shit is about, or the weather, but something is not right. I have lost the ambition to write good shit. Sure, I still blog, but it's a crap shoot. Sometimes good, sometimes it's crap. Even I don't know how it will turn out and I'm the one writing it.

I used to log on to my computer, check my blogs and head straight for one certain blog. No matter what, that one blog always made my day. It could have been funny, serious, or retarded. It didn't matter because I always looked forward to that blog. I've lost that, and with that my drive to blog worth a shit.

I've tried to get involved with blog groups, but alas, they all think my blogs are crap or just not their style. Duh, of course they aren't your style, they are my style, cuz they are my blogs. I guess I need to find a new blog crush. Someone that writes regularly, who isn't a stuck up panty stain, or boring. It'd be nice if they also read my blogs from time to time. A comment or two wouldn't hurt either.

I need some blog excitement in my life. If looking forward to a blog or a comment from someone adds that spice, I will take it. Things are bleak right now. It's like watching a ball game, any ball game, and the team you are rooting for is down by like 100. You like the game and want to watch, but you know it's going to be a shut out, so you're just not that interested in it. What I need is the Michael Jordan of blogging to come out and carry my team to a comeback victory. I can't be awesome all by myself, it doesn't work like that.

Are you out there blogging wonder super hero? Come rescue me from the mundane. I need a witty, satirical, honest, intelligent person to save me from the boring and stupid. Now, I'm not saying all the blogs I read are boring and stupid, I just need something with that special sauce that speaks to me.

Eh, maybe I just need a chocolate bar?

30 Dec 06 - GOODBYE TWO THOUSAND AND SUCKS...ERM...SEX...UH...SIX

2009-04-12T02:32:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I'm kind of a joiner. Well, when I see other people doing something that is a good idea, I like to steal their idea and claim it as my own as if I had no idea others were doing this as well. Seriously?

So much has happened in these past 12 months, where do I begin? Oh yeah, I guess the beginning huh? Shut up!

I was browsing over some of my blogs from this past year to remind me of all the shit I've gone through, as well as the couple of good times I had. I want to remember the good times so much more than the bad.

January started out kind of slow and shitty. I was so busy at work I hardly took care of myself or my car, and both suffered. I don't think I've ever been as sick as I was this past year, and my poor car went through hell until her untimely death in April. God, rest her soul. She was a great car. The first new car I had ever owned.

I started blogging more, and a bit more in depth. My blogs started attracting readers. Maybe it was my semi nude picture that attracted them first? Either way, I gained readers, and my readers inspired me to blog more. With more readers, I felt the need to write, and I wanted to. I needed to.

See, I am not someone with many friends. I suppose I am the "Sami Brady" of blogging. Not that I manipulate others, or blackmail anyone, I just don't have many real life friends because I'm a difficult person to get along with. I accept that, and I love who I am, so fuck those who don't like me.

By expanding my blogging, I felt like my friends were growing, I was actually talking to more and more people. I had a supportive network of a variety of people, most of whom I've never met, that I considered friends. Whether we agree or agree to disagree, I love all of my readers and am thankful that you somehow stumbled upon my blogs.

I met some wonderful MySpacers because of the blogging community. We had some great times together and each one holds a special place in my heart.

In spite of being a bitch, I tend to actually care very deeply for those who impact my life. I sometimes consider this a flaw because I always get my heart broken. Things were no different in 2006. Though I dated quite a few guys, I only fell in love with one. I have accepted the harsh reality of life and how things will be, but that doesn't make the pain any duller.

So I continue to live life, day by day, trying not to remember how much it sucks to be alone, preparing for my next relationship let down.

In the beginning of the year I took up drinking to control my thinking problem and even blogged about it. Since that seemed like a good idea at the time, I will pick up my drinking once again, but only because it sucks to be bored and sober. Being bored and drunk is much funner!

I endured stress and pain from my shit job and Fortune, and in August I fucking told them to kiss my ass and walked out. I walked in to a really good job that same day. I work with some great people and really enjoy this job. Sure I bitch and complain about it, but who has a job they don't complain about? Plus, that's just me. I complain about everything. LOL

I came to an enlightenment this year, emotionally and spiritually. It's actually helped my stress level go WAY down. I realized that I don't have the ability to change things beyond my control, and worrying about them is just a silly waste of time that accomplishes nothing. Sure I still get sad about things, but I don't stress over them like I used to. Maybe that's good, but maybe it's bad too.

I still work hard to achieve what I can, but if I don't feel there is a point, I just let it go. I know during my car accident span of time, I stressed a lot of people out because I was so adamantly pressuring people to get things done. Well, my reason for doing so was to accomplish getting paid and getting a new car, which I did, and I wasn't going to let the insurance company fuck me in the ass.

As for letting things go that aren't worth the trouble, that could be the bad part of this new enlightenment. I have gone with my gut feelings and so far so good. There have been a few guys I have let go because we were headed down a one way, dead end street. Because I felt this, I knew it was right to let it go, and move on to something new. Hopefully one day I won't be standing in a pile of dog shit in the pouring rain, without an umbrella, wearing a white top, with my keys locked in the car and the only person that is around to help me just happens to be that guy whom I let go, proving me wrong on the decisions I've made.

Being reunited with my dad later this year was nice. I am still trying to like him more and more, but sometimes he still does things that get on my nerves. That's what parents do though, right? He seems to know the boundaries between him and I, and has been careful not to cross them, and I applaude his effort.

All in all, this wasn't a horrible year, but it most definately wasn't great either. I have made some really great friends to replace the ones I've lost touch with, but each person has left a lasting impression with me.

As this year comes to a close, I bit it fucking adieu. Two thousand and six brought me happiness and pain, gave me friendships and took them away, but through it all I had you. Yes you. The reader. Thank you.

Thank you for sticking with me through the good blogs and the shitty ones. Thank you for cheering me up when I needed it the most. You crazy lot are my friends, and I love you for being here. Your words are real, and so am I and I appreciate the fact that we can connect as real people, even though we may never meet and we all live so far away. Holy fuck, now I'm starting to sound as coherant as Lindsay Lohan, so I'll stop now.

Wishing you all the best in 2007!

18 Dec 06 - I hate you, here's why.

2009-04-12T02:28:00.000-04:00

I was going to write a blog the other day about something I encountered that pissed me off. Instead I shall convert this into a blog of things I hate. It's more like things that suck, but they suck enough for me to hate them.

Best Buy I really hate Best Buy. Each time I go in there I get pissed off. No matter what I'm doing or what I'm looking for, those assholes manage to piss me off. My last trip to the Devil's Lair encouraged me to write a letter telling them how shitty their customer service was. Now, the first time, bad customer service was acceptable. This time, during christmas when the store was not busy, no excuse.

Three little nerds were standing around the store computer talking about their day or some boring bullshit. When they were done talking one asked if I needed help. Oh no the fuck you didn't! "No, I don't need help. Please continue with your conversation." Hells no I wasn't nice about it either. He asked, "Um, are you being sarcastic?" What the fuck do you think junior? "No, I don't need your help. I've helped myself." By then I actually had helped myself, but I could have used that little assturd's help about 15 minutes prior.

Comp USA These fuckers are the reason I was pissed off to begin with when I got to Best Buy. No way in Hell was I going to set foot in Circuit Shitty. Anyway, I started my night off at this place looking for a power cord to my laptop. Ever since I got my laptop, the power cord has never really fit right. It was a little too small, and was always coming unplugged. Well, the power cord stopped charging the laptop because Johnny Super Tail paced the coffee table back and forth, constantly knocking the power cord out of place. It had finally worn out to the point it quit working.

So I venture to CompUSA to look for a power cord. This is a fucking computer store, so they should have one, right? Well they did, but they had about one employee for every 10 customers that night. I found a cord, but there wasn't a price for it. I searched every tag there, and there was not one for this fucking cord. SHIT! I stand behind someone who works in the store, hoping he will acknowledge me yet he never does. He continues to try and get 90 year old granny to buy a fucking super computer and he wasn't going to speak to me if his life depended on it.

I google texted for the number to the store, and my phone making noise got the old lady's attention, but not the losery bastard helping her. Prick! So, still standing there, I call and get the price for the item in my hand then leave. The power cord was $99. The one at Best Buy was $119, but I got a $40 gift card because the one I bought had been previously opened. That's not bad, but it means I have to go back to that fucking store to spend the gift card.

Johnny The Shakey Tailed Cat. Okay, I don't really hate him, but his fucking taill! I want to cut it off with a really sharp knife sometimes. That fuzzy fuck cost me $100!!! Grrrr.

Amy Lee, "You Never Call Me When You're Sober." I hate that fucking song so much that each time it comes on the radio I want to stab my ears out with scissors. Instead of doing that, I change the channel. Stop playing that song to death already! I would rather listen to 10 cats in heat than that fucking song.

Harrodsburg I really really hate this town. There isn't anything in this town worth making the trip for. I think 75% of the people in this town are inbred.

People that play loud music in their car I don't mean the ones who are just jammin to a cool song and have the volume up all the way. I'm talking about the ones who are partially deaf because everyone can hear their car a half mile down the road, yet they refuse to turn the sound down when they are filling up their gas tank or parked outside a store. Fucking assholes I hate you!

Warm weather in December It's almost Christmas. I want to see my breath, some snow, some frost on my nose and some grey clouds dammit! This isn't Florida! It's supposed to be nipples hard cold for Christmas! After that I could care less what the temp is, but for Christmas, it's supposed to be cold!

The San Diego Chargers Okay, I don't really hate them anymore. I had ill feelings toward #20 because he made a bitch move during the Bengal's game. I recently found out it was an accident. I still am not a fan of the Chargers, however I do like LaDainian Tomlinson. He is so awesome to watch and is an extremly good and caring person off the field. So, instead of hating the Chargers, I'll hate the Pittsburgh Steelers instead. HAHA! I hope you don't make it to the playoffs fuckos!

John Madden I am convinced this dude gets drunk before every Sunday night game he announces. Last night I swear I thought I was watching a replay of the beginning of last Sunday night's game because he repeated himself WORD FOR WORD describing LT. Granted, listening to him sometimes can be funny, but come on! Half of the time he forgets what he's talking about and never finishes!

Friend requests from strangers. Ummm...hello? I don't know you. You have requested to be my friend and don't even bother to send a hello message first? Why the fuck would I want to befriend someone that's rude like that? Well, okay...if you're cute and your profile doesn't suck, that's another story. If I try to visit your profile and all of your blinky you sparkle tags, songs, videos and graphics lock my computer up, guess what? DENIED dumbass! Come back when you have sense.

Acid reflux disease or (GERD) I've always had a problem with this, ever since I was a teenager. It's not so bad when I don't smoke, but hurts like hell when I drink or eat spicy food. I saw on Fox News yesterday morning that carbonated beverages can make this worse. Guess I'll have to stop drinking the sodie pop now. Booo.

Parents who don't discipline their children I don't care how old your child is, they are not old enough to sass you and make an ass out of themself while in a store with you. If your child doesn't listen, talks back, or throws a fit, take their ass home and beat them! I worked at the Lexington store yesterday, and this man came in with his daughter to get her a prepaid Go phone. She looked all of 14, and smarted off, threw a fit and became hateful when he wouldn't buy the phone she wanted because it was too expensive. How about a "no" phone, bitch? I almost felt sorry for him, but fuck that, he's her daddy, spank her ass!

You are NOT the father! Saturday was my sister's family get together. Each year it's on the day UK plays UofL in basketball, a week before Christmas. Each year I see just how much one of the little boys looks nothing like his mom or dad, but looks strikingly similar to someone I know that the mom used to work with. I wonder if that is a secret she's going to try and keep for as long as possible, or if people know yet don't say anything? MAURY! MAURY! MAURY!

15 Nov 06 - Helpful tips for everyone! Yes, even you!

2009-04-12T02:26:00.000-04:00

While visiting my boyfriend last night, things kept happening that warrented my putting them in a blog. This blog is going to be filled with helpful tips for men and women, so don't stop reading just because you may not agree with some shit I've said.

1. If he/she is asking you a question, it's usually not a good idea to ask, "if they have a problem with that," unless you are fucking kidding. If they really DID have a problem with it, they would fucking tell you.
2. If you are touching or rubbing on your significant other's body part and feel something bumpy, like a pimple or scab, don't pick at it. That is not your body, and things hurt worse when someone unexpectadly picks at something, especially if they didn't know said scab, etc was there until you found it.
3. Just because you may like to get your face all up in the junk when you are performing cunnilingus, in turn getting bodily fluids all over your face, doesn't mean they share in the excitement of getting those same bodily fluids on their own face. What I'm trying to say is, it's good you're excited about it, but wipe your mouth off a bit before coming up for a kiss. If I wanted to lick snatch, I'd be a lesbian.
4. Same goes for girls, just because you may devour your man's kids like you were dehydrated and his fluid was the only thing you'd had to drink in months, doesn't mean he wants to share the fun of having his kids swimming around in his mouth.
5. FRONT TO BACK. ALWAYS. NEVER, never, never, never go back to front. For the sheltered, this means, you can visit the Vanilla fields and then proceed to the Hershey Highway, but you can NEVER take the Hersey Highway to Vanilla fields. To be blunt for those who don't understand that, during sex, you can go from twat to ass, but NEVER ass to twat. *Please remember these words, as they will help prevent infections later in life.
6. Ladies, always, always urinate after having sex. That will save you some pain and $$ on doctor bills. Plus it will deter any thoughts of if that dude gave you an STD, when it's only a UTI.
7. Dudes, always urinate after having ANAL sex. Dirty bacteria can creep up in your peepee and grow, thus causing you pain and discomfort. Just urinate.
8. It is in NO WAY okay at ANY TIME to have sex with your partner while they are asleep without waking them up first. Trust me. They would appreciate being woken up for the event, thus allowing them to join in on the activities, rather than waking up mid hump and getting pissed off.
9. When you only see your significant other once or twice a week, lie down with them when they go to bed (unless it's super early). Don't stay up all night clacking away on the keyboard of your computer while they are in the bed, alone, falling asleep. Your doing this negates any extra time you may want to cuddle in the morning when they have to leave.
10. If one person expects to be up at a certain time because you said you had to be at work, wake them up at that time. Chances are, they have shit to do, like drive home, take a shower and drive to work, and they are planning doing this in a timely manner based on what time you said you were leaving for work. If you call into work and tell them you are running late, then just crawl back in bed, and don't say shit to the other person, chances are they are going to be pissed at you for fucking up their schedule.

18 Oct 06 Can you hear or are you just fucking retarded?

2009-04-12T02:21:00.000-04:00

So I get lots of people that come into our stores of various locations, yet they all seem to posses the same malfunction in their brain. When they come in to make a payment on their wireless bill, they always ask, "Can I make a payment here?" Our reply is always, "We can accept a payment with a debit or credit card."

The reason our stores only accept payments with debit or credit cards is because we aren't set up for any other form of payment. This was attempted before and customer accounts weren't being credited, thus causing problems and even disconnects which = pissed off people. So, we only accept debit or credit card payments since we can process those online in the POS system.

Okay, so WHY is it that EVERYTIME, EACH customer ALWAYS asks, "So....you don't accept cash/checks?"
Umm, what the fuck did I just say shitbreath? What part of "debit or credit" to you does not compute? Do you think that is code for cash/check and even money order? Seriously!

This doesn't happen once a week or a few times a month, this happens at least DAILY! It'd be cool if after I told them we only accept debit or credit, they took that info, processed it and said, okay thanks but I needed to pay with cash/check/money order, then left, but noooooooo!

I wonder if these people know how fucking moronic they sound when they ask that question they were just told the answer to? I'm sure they don't know how hilarious it is to those of us who work here.

A few weeks ago, some co workers and I were conversing about this very subject, and right then a customer came in and asked the famous payment question. I tried SO HARD to contain my laughter when she asked, "So I can't pay with cash?" but I could not. She turned and gave me an evil look, but I don't care. I had to release my laughter at her stupidity. Hey, if you ask a retarded question, don't expect me to not laugh at you and your dumbness.

Aside from that, my customers are not bad. I have a few sketchy ones, but the rest are great. I love it how everyone wants something for nothing. When did people get so damn cheap?

We had our Harrodsburg Grand Opening last Saturday and no fucking body showed up! Well, we had a few people come in and look around, but not like we'd hoped. We even advertised that we were giving away Free SHIT! I thought for sure people wouldn't pass up free shit, but I was wrong.

So now we have tons of cingular cups, coozies, hackie sacks, chip clips, mints, and even temporary tattoos. Yes, I know. Who the mother fuck would want a cingular temporary tattoo? I have no idea either.

But the gift giving doesn't stop there! Oh yes, there is more! We have tape measures with a level, headsets that have a flashlight on the side, keychains, flashlights, CDs, sunglasses, tire gauges, and remote controlled boats. Don't ask, I have no idea where it came from, but hey, it's free! LOL

Yeah, "Thanks for choosing Cingular! Here's your new phone, and I've thrown in a free tape measure and a copy of Perry Como's greatest hits for you!" Riiight.

29 Aug 06 - That's what you get for having sex!!!

2009-04-12T02:17:00.000-04:00

My Freshman year of college I had a steady boyfriend. He went to UK and I went to MSU. We would visit each other on weekends and have all the secks. One day I started to feel kind of ill and had that burning sensation when I urniated.

Now, why is it called "sensation?" It doesn't feel very sensational when you are pissing razor blades. I went to the student health center and they told me I had a UTI. For the dudes, that means Urinary Tract Infection.

Being sexually inexperienced I didn't know that if you didn't urinate after having sex, you could end up with a UTI. Once my dad told me that you get UTI's from having sex, my sister told me to try and take a piss before and afterwards to prevent such occurances from happening again.

No biggie. I learnt my lesson and had very few UTI's since. Until two weeks ago. Yeah, I was lazy and tired, didn't get up to pee after I had secks. I paid the price with the frequent urge to urinate and eventually pissing teh blood.

I called my Dr. to see if they could call me in some drugz and in the meantime got some OTC Uristat. Thank GOD for the genius who let this become over the counter!

After taking a few doses of the Uristat, I was fine except for the Fanta colored orange piss I created. My doctor's office called back the next day and said they'd call me in some drugs. Sweet! I didn't even have to make an appointment!

The only downside with this drug was that I needed to avoid overexposure to the sun. Which I did not do on Saturday causing a ginormous blister on my lip. It looks like I took one in the mouth from Layla Ali. Ahh, good times.

I'm trying to cover up my huge herpe with some lipstick and medicine, but I don't think it's working very well. I can just feel the eyes dart down to my lip cancer and zoom in on it's gnarlyness. I want to scream, "STOP LOOKING AT IT!" But I don't. I kind of lean down a bit to catch their eyes, and pull my upper lip in to hide it from public ridicule.

I'm supposed to have a date tonight, but won't want to kiss him with my giant face ulcer. Booo. Guess we'll just have to fondle one another instead.

9 Aug 06 - Death to Tricia

2009-04-12T02:14:00.000-04:00

If I'm not able to complete this blog as I am currently writing it, I will fiinish it when I get home. See, I'm at work right now and don't get off until 8pm tonight. Let me fill you in, come on along with me...

Monday I had a bitch fight with snotty monkey #2. For no reason other than her underwear being too far up her ass, she got a smart ass attitude with me over something rediculous. That didn't bother me so much, as what my supervisor did when the bitch fight occurred, which was not a mother fucking thing. She told us if we needed to discuss a problem to do it in her office. That is all she said.

That chapped my ass. Not only that, I was pissed because on Friday, I had no idea Sorority bitch wasn't going to be at work because no one talked to me, let alone told me she wasn't coming in.

So, Monday, after the bullshit hit the fan, I was half a second from picking up my shit and walking out. Fuck that place! I don't need any more of their fucking crybaby bullshit. I was talked into staying and told I needed to find a new job before I left. I know, dammit!

Well, a friend took me out for drinks after work and let me vent, poor fella. I was trying to decide if I was going to actually go to work Tuesday or just show up late. A friend of mine set an interview up for me at a Cingular store for 1pm, so I knew, no matter what, I would need to be in Lexington Tuesday afternoon.

I decided to get up and drag my sorry ass out of bed Tuesday morning, but I showed up an hour late for work. I thought it was pretty fucking hilarious because no one called or texted me like usual. So when I walked in, Sorority bitch asked to see me in her office.

I picked up my purse, walked into her office and said, "What's up?" She said, "Tricia, it's 9:24, and you're just now showing up. What's going on with you?" My reply? "Honestly, I have a hard time finding the motivation to get out of bed and come to work with a bunch of people I can't stand."

Well, I thought it was funny. She went on her little holier than thou speech about something. I wasn't really listening. I did hear her say, "You know you are on the verge of losing your job." I said, "Yeah, I know!" I don't think she appreciated my light heartedness of the situation.

She then went on and on again, but all I heard was, blah, blah, blah. Finally, she asked, "Are you trying to push me?" I responded to that with, "Ya think?"

No longer able to put up with my sarcastic remarks she stormed off and said she'd get the guys upstairs to escort me the hell out of there to make sure I didn't take anything that didn't belong to me. Bitch! Accusing me of stealing! I totally wanted to smack a hoe, but instead I sat in my chair and waited for my boss to come down. Which he did.

He walked over to me and I said, "What's going on Jeff?" He said, "Nothing much. What's going on with you?" "Oh, just waiting to be fired," was my comment to him. Well, I got my stuff and went upstairs to his office. It was kind of a weird yet funny meeting because I told them I wasn't leaving without being fired.

They wrote me out a termination letter which agreed to pay me for the rest of the week. Sweet! haha! I was out of there by 10:30.

When I walked to my car, I had never felt as good as I did at that moment! I felt 100 lbs lighter, and happy! I went home, got online and got ready for my 1pm job interview.

While I was getting ready I got a call for an interview in Frankfort. I also got a call for a job at Tmobile. Well, when I interviewed in Lexington, they hired me on the spot, and that's where I am today.

I really think I am going to like it here. I work for a company that owns a chain of Cingular stores, and is opening more in the area. They will have me working in Lexington, Lawrenceburg, Versailles, and Harrodsburg.

Today is my first day, and I like it so far, even though today has been a slow day. The people I work with are cool, and around my age. I'll be making some good money once I get the ball rolling and feel comfortable with their system. I'm excited and happy now. It seems like things are finally looking up! Hooray!!

The entire week, all I could think about was my Jesus dream, and having faith. I had faith that things would work out and they have! Awesome!

6 Aug 06 - Dear Jesus, you scared the piss out of me.

2009-04-12T02:11:00.000-04:00

It's a little after 8am this morning, and I haven't been to bed yet. I'm not really tired, but maybe I'm just a little afraid of going to sleep. Why the hell am I afraid of going to sleep? Well, I am a bit afraid of what my dreams my bring.

Last night, while dreaming, I had an encounter and feelings that can only be described as surreal. Both awsome and frightening causing me to wonder if I had lost my mind.

Like most dreams, they only make sense to the dreamer during the dream. This dream started out with me standing in a field, near some trees, talking to a guy and girl. The guy was played by a friend of mine, and the girl was not familiar to me.

I was trying to convince the girl that her husband (not present) was trying to kill her and her daughter. This stems from an earlier part of my dream where I am paranoid about her husband's behavior and find it eerily similar to a movie where the guy kills his family.

Anyway, while standing there talking I started rising to the sky. It wasn't a quick lift, but more of a steady pull. I imagine this being similar to a soul rising to heaven, but I was completely concious of what was going on. I was scared at first, but told myself there wasn't anything I could do, so I tried to relax.

I floated up and saw a figure. The figure was Jesus Christ. He was floating in a soft yellow glow and kind of smiled and waived at me. I almost immediately began to descend back to Earth. I became both worried and horrified thinking I was being sent to Hell. I tried my best to plea for my soul, questioning why I was going to Hell.

As I came to rest in a chair at what was to be my dad's house, I was relieved, but in shock. I sat there, saying over and over, that I just saw Jesus, and he was real. At this point I began to question my sanity and wonder if I had some paranoid schitzophrenic disorder or something that causes you to see and believe things that aren't real.

No sooner than the thought left my head, Jesus appeared in the living room. I was no longer afraid, but curious. What was happening? Why was Jesus appearing to me?

He called me over to him and showed me the shirt he was wearing under his robes. It was white with red lettering and red images. Not a bright red, more like a pencil thin dark red. He told me to select an image without a name, and that would be assigned to me. The image I chose was a series of Greek(maybe) letters that formed an image of a butterfly.

He put his arm around me and told me to hold on. As we floated up into the clouds, He explained to me that everyone has Faith, some just need to be made aware of it. Some need to be convinced of their Faith before they believe in it. I understood what he wanted from me. He wanted me to help other people find their Faith.

We continued to float upwards and I brushed his hair away from my face. It was wavy and very soft. He told me that I was the last one, that I completed the shirt, and sent me back to the spot of the field where I initially stood.

As I landed, the two people I had been talking too were still there and questioned me about what had happened. I asked if they actually had seen what happened to me, and I could only explain to them that Jesus was real.

While walking back to my house, I wondered if this was just a dream. I splashed water on my face, laid down and convinced myself that it was real, and I was awake. That's when I woke up. Well, I didn't really wake up, but I switched to a different dream.

I've tried to figure out what the dream means from dream dictionaries and Google. They all generally say something different, but the one similiarity is that the dream means good news.

I don't want some Freudian bullshit interpretation of my dream, I want to know what it really means. Maybe it doesn't mean anything? Maybe, and sure, this could be a stretch, but maybe our dreams are how spirits contact and connect to us?

With that being said, yeah, I'm a little afraid to dream right now. I thought that sharing this would be good for a Sunday. If you have your own interpretation, I'd like to know what it is.

26 July 06 - Careful, I think they're packing heat

2009-04-12T02:03:00.000-04:00

I was pretty thankful to land in St.Louis considering my two hour fight next to the toilet stunk, literally.

We had a planned 3 hour layover, yes three hours, and we needed to find something to do. I was hanging out with the Rep Services crew, since we were all being treated like shit, and they were being cool.

There was a sports bar open, so we hung out in there until they closed, at 730! I couldn't believe they closed so early! And on a Saturday!

Since we got the boot out of the bar, we went on a hunt for some food. We soon found out that all of the restaurants near the terminal were closed. What the shit kind of airport is that?

One guy decided to venture to the main airport and get us all Burger King. We gave him money and our orders and anxiously awaited that whoppery goodness.

Since the six of us didn't order drinks for him to carry back, I decided to walk down to the only eatery open, The Great American Bagel and Bakery shop, and get something to drink.

The line formed on the left wall in this picture and went across the front counter, to the cash register on the right. When I got in line, all I wanted was a soda, no bagel or sandwich.

The people working in this place seemed in a hurry. They were all young black kids and one old white guy, and they all had bad attitudes. Myself and the girl in front of me were only getting drinks, so they started screaming to the people behind us, what they wanted to order.

We hadn't made it near the counter yet, so the girls behind us had no idea what they were getting. The clerks made them feel rushed and were very curt, so they ordered something quickly to appease the masses behind the counter.

As I got closer to the cash register, I noticed how much my soda was and got the exact amount out, so when I was rung up, all I had to do was toss the grumpy old man my cash and leave. That's what I did.

I couldn't wait to get out of there! I have never felt so uncomfortable in a food ordering setting before, ever!

About 20 minutes later, the guy with our money and BK orders came back, sans food. He said the places in the main airport were all closed too, so he couldn't pick us up any burgers. Fuck!

That meant, our last resort for food was.......The Great American Mafia Bagel and Bakery. Double FUCK! I did NOT want to go back in there.

I got up the courage, took a piss, then went to stand in line for a sandwich. Things were a bit quieter this time around. When I walked to the line, I was told that only people standing inside the restaurant would be served.

Thankfully I was on the inside! I quickly looked over the menu and decided my order, which was simple. No choices to make, just Chicken Ceasar Sandwich, and that's all I had to say.

While making sandwiches and bagels, the employees mumbled and talked to one another about how they were never getting out of there unless people stopped coming in. I could almost hear them say, "Fucking customers!" but they didn't. At least not loud enough for me to hear them.

While waiting to pay for my sandwich, the kids and the old man cashier had an arguement about who would close the gate to stop people from coming in. One kid was probably new, or he was just playing dumb, because he wouldn't do it. The old man was getting pissed because he couldn't do it and ring up customers. The sandwich maker girl couldn't run the cash register, because I think she was just too dumb and refused to learn.

I was about to grab the damn keys myself and say, "FUCK! I WILL DO IT!" Finally, one guy took the keys and lowered the gate just enough that people could crouch and walk under. Once again, I was glad to get out of that place.

While standing in line for the plane, a little boy of about 11 years old got some money from his dad and walked toward the bagel shop to get something quick to eat. I stopped him by shouting, "NO!!!"

I knew his dad had a puzzled look on his face, so I explained to him that if he were to have walked in there and tried to order something, they might have shot the poor kid, and I didn't want him to have to experience that at such a tender age. He thanked me, and I offered him a granola bar.

The women standing in line for the plane behind me agreed that the bagel shop was horrible, because they were in line behind me when the shouting and demanding of orders took place. They feared for the little boy's safety as well, but I was the one brave enough to save him from being attacked.

Our plane finally showed up, an extra hour late because they had problems fueling the plane in Arizona due to the extreme heat.

I sat next to a chubby man and his kid on my last flight of this painful trip. Unfortunately, a woman who needed to stand next to me to put shit in the overhead bins was on her period and very smelly.

If any of you have ever smelled this, it can induce vomiting. This woman would NOT sit DOWN! Ugh!!! Gag! She finally sat down, across from me, but got up once again after the short 45 minute flight was over.

I was almost home. Only an hour car ride from the airport left and I was done with this nightmare.

Around 230am, I finally got home. That's when I passed out and woke up at 6pm the next day, sick as a dog with a sore, swollen throat and face, congestion and a fever.

11 July 06 - M-I-C-See ya real soon! K-E-Y-Why? Because we HATE YOU AND WANT YOU TO SUFFER!

2009-04-12T01:54:00.001-04:00

It's that time again folks. Yes, it's time for Fortune Fest, or as I like to call it "UnFortunate Fest" and "Hell."

Next week, we fly down to Orlando for this years convention. Thank fuck it's only three days this year instead of last year's 4 days.

This mornig, we had a meeting about what to expect and went over the itenerary. After that, we had a department meeting about what to wear and things to do while we're there.

First off, it's going to be awkward for me, since I'm not part of the clique and "Anastasia" and "Drizella" monkey have already been bonding over the trip. Second, it was very laughable when I looked over the department itenerary and saw that "Maybe we could all have dinner together?" was listed. LMAO!!! Fuck THAT!

I don't want to go out and eat dinner with a group of people I don't lile that don't like me. I would rather spend time with my family than do that! For all my white readers, think of how you would feel if you walked into a room and you were surrounded by

And for my readers of the non-caucasian ethnicity, think of how you would feel if you walked into a room and you were surrounded by

That's how I feel when I'm at work. Lovely ain't it? Can't you just imagine my excitement to spend 3 days in Orlando with these assfucks? Yeah, I am so excited that I'm bursting with fruit flavor.

I think I may bring my laptop and become a hermit the whole time, just so I don't have to socialize with anyone. Well, at least I'll have my Treo with me, that's something.

If any of you are in or around the Orlando area next Wednesday through Saturday of next week, please email me at tricia@fhtm.net please. I would love to hang out with you, anyone, the homeless, just not my cow orkers.

On to something a little lighter, one of my new favorite commercials, the Orbits gum commercial. You know, the one with Snoop? It starts off with him infront of a classroom full of kids and he says, "And that's what it's like to be a gangster." Then he's sucked into hell and told because of his dirty mouth, he'll be there with them forever. But the Orbits gum lady and her goat show up and say, "Dirty mouth? Clean it up with Orbit spearment gum. Then Snoop is whisked away to heaven.

My favorite part is the disclaimer at the bottom of the screen which says, "Dramatization, Orbit gum will not get you into heaven."
There went my chances. Damn.

29 June 06 - I wish you would die

2009-04-12T01:52:00.000-04:00

I want you to die you corporate bitches. you are stuck up fake sorority fucks and I hate you all. I'm the outsider because I have an opinion. I am worthless because I don't do as much as your golden pets, yet things always seem to get done. I am a bitch because I don't kiss ass, well fuck you. This place has so many double standards you don't know what is right or wrong, yet I am the hypocrit and disrespect you. Well kiss my fat white ass and fuck off.

26 June 06 - Order in the Court!!!!

2009-04-12T01:44:00.000-04:00

Today sucked some major ass, but at least I got a good story to share with you lot out of it.

I had to go to court this morning because I was driving without insurance when that asshat rear ended me in April. Yeah, not something I was really looking forward to doing on a Monday, but oh well. Not like I had a choice, this ticket wasn't prepayable. Fuck.

The courthouse is only five blocks down the street from me, so I didn't have to rush out the door. Even though I got there on time, there was limited parking.

When I entered the courthouse, there was no directions or instructions on how to get to the district court room. So I asked the nearest office worker how to get there. She had me go left, then right, then left. What!?! I tried to follow where she told me to go, but I ended outside.

Finally, someone directed me to the right path. When I got upstairs, the courtroom was PACKED! I mean, it was packed tighter than a fat whore in spandex pants! Not to mention, the judge was already on last names starting with "H" so I thought I was doomed to stay until the end.

About 5 minutes after I arrived, the Judge asked everyone to raise their hands that wasn't charged with anything. He then told those people to exit the courtroom. That was nice, at least I had a place to sit after they left!

I had never seen so many Mexicans and Mullets all in one room. I felt like I was at a Rodeo in Texas or something. Talk about feeling like the minority! I didn't know that dressing nice and having kempt hair was so, unfashionable.

I found out about 20 minutes later that the names the Judge was going through were all of the prepayable tickets. Whew! I was safe. Or so I thought.

One by one, idiot after idiot took their stance in front of the judge. I swear, I loved this guy! He made me want to be a judge. I think I missed my calling!

"Do you plead guilty...or...not guilty?" he would slowly ask the moron in front of him. When they didn't respond, he would repeat himself...slower. It was hilarious!

It was getting closer to my name, yet time dragged on. People were coming and going from the courtroom, yet the size of the crowd seemed to stay about the same. I thought things were going to be dull and shitty, but in walks the hero to pot heads of Kentucky, their spokesman, Gaitwood Galbraith. I was hoping to see some shit from this, but I think he was only there defending a DUI case. Booo.

One by one, the judge called names. He got to the "D's" and I thought I was home free. Nope. Up comes the "trial" for Mary Egbert.

This was the funniest shit I have yet to witness. EVER! Here comes this 50 year old woman, greasy, stringy hair with mullet type bangs and huge, thick purple sunglasses. I think the sunglasses were to hide her bloodshot eyes.

She was on trial for wreckless driving. The Commonwealth Atty had the State Trooper who cited her testify as to what happened. This crackhead was sitting in traffic, facing the wrong direction, in the middle of the road. The trooper said she was oblivious to what was around her. After hearing her cross examine him, I fucking believe it.

Every phrase, EVERY PHRASE that came out of this woman's mouth started with, "I would like to ask the person bringing these false charges against me..." She brought up that she was an American. She was an American citizen and was innocent until proven guilty. And she asked the trooper, "I would like to ask the person bringing these false allegations against me how can I be wreckless driving, if I wasn't going anywhere?"

LMAO! Every time she spoke, everyone fucking laughed, and tried not to. The Commonwealth Atty objected to half of what she said, and the judge, automatically responded with, "Sustained."

Her questions became repetitive and after about 30 minutes of her rambling, he finally found her guilty. Once he told her she could appeal, she shot right out with, "I do appeal this false judgement wrongly brought against me."

Oh, but the hilarity doesn't end there. The next act starred Mexican illegal immigrant Alejandro Mendoza and the District Judge. This guy had a spanish speaking lawyer. I guess that's what she was, either that or the court interpreter, because everything the judge said, she repeated for Alejandro in espanol.

This got very funny when Alejandro failed to produce a driver's license from the state of Kentucky, but had one from Mexico. "How long have you been living in Kentucky?" the judge asked him. His reply was one year. "Well you're a resident of Kentucky now, not Mexico. You need a Kentucky driver's license."

The judge started off patient with this kid. He asked if he wanted to try and obtain a KY license. I think the guy was scared because his answers never made much sense.

Over and over the judge asked, "Do you plead guilty or not guilty?" "Would you like to come back with your driver's license?" "Would you like to GET a driver's license?"

Finally, the judge was fed up and told the guy to have a seat in the back of the courtroom. "We are having a failure to communicate!" He shouted at Alejandro. The added hand motions were a nice touch too. I almost fell off of my uncomfortable bench from laughing so hard!

My name finally got called around 1130. I was probated $400 of my $500 fine, and probated 30 days in jail. I get to visit with the probation office on Friday. I have to provide proof of my insurance each month for the next year. Yay.

At least I got some great entertainment for the three hours of suffering and $238 in fines and court costs I had to pay. I didn't even mention the hoss sitting next to me. Man, when she got up, it took a minute for her ass to follow suit. I swear. She had a shelf ass. Ew.

20 June 06 - I was a nanny once. Once.

2009-04-12T01:40:00.000-04:00

I had lived on base for a year and a half in the winter of 2000. Well, winter in Wyoming starts in like September, so yeah, it was winter. I had my name on the offbase housing list since my arrival, and soon, I would be one of the chosen ones to get BAH and BAS. (BAH and BAS is allowance for housing and subsistance added to your paycheck for troops who live offbase.)

It's a well known fact that single airmens who live off base and receive pay, make much more money than those who live on base, and only receive flat pay. Let's just say, I was getting excited to move off base, and not just for the money.

I lived in the dorms with crazy young airmen that didn't have any regard for their neighbors. They played music at all hours of the night, and wouldn't answer the door unless LE was called because of a complaint.

There wasn't a kitchen in my room, but a community kitchen for the entire dorm. Plus I had to share my bathroom and shower with my suitemate. She was cool, but young, oh and she used to date the guy I was sleeping with.

I also had Elton with me, and he didn't like being locked up in the room all the time. This was evident by him constantly jumping at the doorknob trying to open it, and reaching his arm under the door swatting at shadows. That little stunt got me a letter of reprimand from my first shirt because the dorm manager happened to be walking by and Elton wanted to play. Did I mention we weren't allowed to have pets in our rooms?

During a base exercise, I was working in the Medical Control Center coming on for third shift, when I was approached by Sara, who was getting out, or being discharged. She asked if I lived in the dorms and thought about moving off base.

She told me about this "job" she had of being a "nanny" for a 14 year old girl named Angie. Angie's dad Chuck was a truck driver and he didn't like leaving Angie home by herself. Their house had a finished basement with it's own entrance, along with one to the main floor. All Sara did was be a babysitter, and cook every once and a while. Plus, rent was free. Any groceries bought were refunded by Chuck.

This sounded like a pretty sweet deal to me. I came over and met Angie and Chuck, saw the apartment and things seemed too good to be true! Chuck seemed like an okay guy. He was in the Air Force and looked a bit like a hippie, but he was cool. They were like midwestern rednecks, but not creepy

I got my friend to help me move some of my shit, and since I didn't have much, it didn't really take long. I didn't have a bed, so I slept on the couch, but I was still excited about being in my own place. Elton was excited too. Shut up! I know when my cats are happy, and he was ecstatic!

The first few days were cool. I took Angie grocery shopping with me and we spent way too much money on a bunch of crap. I made dinner for us, which was weird because I hadn't cooked in such a long time. Once I fixed them Jambalaya and they looked at it weird, then asked what it was. Said it must be a "southern thing." Plus they liked to eat corn with everything. Things seemed a bit uncomforable because I was new, but I hoped they would get better.

I wasn't getting my offbase allowances yet, so I was spending my money when I did the grocery shopping. Only Chuck didn't want to pay me back for all of it because I spent too much. Well, it's hard to tell a teenage girl you don't know well, "No."

A few weeks went by and I had to take Angie to school a few times because she woke up late, or just didn't want to walk to school in the snow. Then she started playing basketball and I had to pick her up from practice.

That wasn't so bad, except for the night she didn't come home and no one knew where to find her. That was fun. She eventually turned up, but it was clear she had no respect for me. It started showing more when she would hang out with her friend Raul down the street, and started sassing me and not telling me where she was going or when she would be home.

I started spending less and less time with her, and having my friend boy come over to keep me company. One night I came home and had a letter from Chuck telling me I had to move out.

Thankfully I still had my room on base and Kurt and I spent all night moving my shit back into my dorm. This was the middle of November, so it was fucking cold and there was lots of snow and ice on the ground.

My feelings weren't really hurt that Chuck asked me to move out, I just found it very cowardly how he did it, with a letter instead of talking to me about it. Plus, since I still hadn't received offbase allowance, I wasn't making money, but losing it due to bills and shit. A few months after that I was discharged anyway, so there was no harm done.

Sometimes I'll hear a song or see something that reminds me of that little bitch Angie, and I wonder what she's up to. From the way she acted around me, I wouldn't be surprised if she was pregnant or had a kid already.

I certainly learned my lesson from that experience. I'll never be anyone's fucking nanny again. Especially if I don't know them.

16 June 06 - Everybody Lies

2009-04-12T01:38:00.000-04:00

I don't care who you are, at some point in your life, you lie about something. I've lied. I lie every day. When someone asks how I'm doing, "Fine," is my typical response, even if I'm not fine. So, I lied. Big deal. No one wants to know that I'm doing fantastic today, or if I'm feeling like shit because I'm all gassy and bloated. So, we do what we feel is simple and nice, we lie.

Not all lies are simple and harmless. Sometimes we are blatent liars. We are devious, deceitful, yet sometimes subtle about our lies, and what we chose to lie about. We lie to protect ourselves and we lie to protect others. In the long run, actually nothing good comes from lying.

How do we learn to lie? When we are little, to avoid getting in trouble, we lie about silly things such as "did you spill this?" or "did you break this?"
Is that why we lie as adults? Do we prepare our entire lives to perfect our lies? Even though our parents thought us that lying is bad, we did it anyway.

The bible tells us that lying is a sin and the devil is the father of all lies.

The truthful lip shall be established forever, but a lying tongue is but for a moment. (Proverbs 12:19)

Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. (Matthew 5:11)

Therefore, putting away lying, "Let each one of you speak truth with his neighbor." for we are members of one another. (Ephesians 4:25)

But the cowardly, unbelieving, abominable, murderers, sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars shall have their part in the lake which burns with fire and brimstone, which is the second death. (Revelation 21:8)

Inspite of all of this, we continue to lie. Not just the regular sinners such as myself, but everyone. Are we just conditioned to lie?
Has this become so habitual and addictive that we just can't stop?

It all starts with what we see as a harmless lie, that rolls into something bigger. Eventually it grows out of our control and we are leading a false life because we don't want to the truth to be seen.
We pretend that things are other than how they actually are. We do this for social acceptance. We even start to believe our own lies.

Our lies create walls; barriers around our true identity within which our souls are weakened by each lie we tell. So why do we do this?
Do we know when to stop lying and confess to everyone that you have decieved them?

No. We only confess some. If we were to admit to all of our falsities, we would be lost, in a world of the unknown. By admitting to ourself that some things were lies, we gradually accept the truth, and it doesn't hurt as much.
Yet with this, we continue to harbor the lies we think aren't important.

"It doesn't matter if he never knew I wasn't a virgin when we had sex. He'll never find out, especially since we aren't together anymore."
That may not matter to you, but I'm sure it matters to him.

"I won't tell him about my past because it is too shocking and he can't handle knowing that."
How do you know what he can or cannot handle? Omission is betrayal. It's not up to you to decide how he feels. You're the one who has to live with the guilt of betrayal.

"I don't know why my credit card didn't go through, I just made a payment."
The smallest of lies only make us look foolish when discovered. I don't know about you, but I already look foolish enough without someone knowing I'm a damn liar.

Everybody lies, and because of this, I expect it, from everyone. You may embellish on some things. You may flat out lie to me about others. It doesn't matter, because I don't really believe you anyway. It's sad that I'm like this. I want to believe in the truth, but I can't because everyone lies.

I know that some things said are true, but forgive me if I call bullshit.

15 June 06 - Modernized Old Fashioned Values

2009-04-12T01:31:00.000-04:00

Has relating on the internet caused us to devalue human emotion? Sure, we all have jobs, or go in public which forces us to interact socially with others, but has the internet given us the ability to be crass when we otherwise wouldn't? Maybe I should just stick to the topic at hand and write about my feelings on this in another blog...

With a lot of things going on around me, I can't help but notice how fucked up things are nowadays. More specifically, how skewed people's values have become. I'm not saying that everyone should have the 50's mindset of how relationships should go, but it seems that one main characteristic missing in even the most casual of relationships is respect.

I have noticed a lack of respect stemming from each side of the relationship spectrum. I don't know if people my age are just tired of dating and won't put up with the bullshit we would have when we were younger, or if we've just lessened our expectations of the opposite sex. We've become so removed from society and so selfish, that we have forgotten how to tend to other's needs and wants.

Communication is an important part in a relationship. I know of a lot of relationships that have died because the couple never talked. If they did have a conversation, it quckly became a fight. If you can't have normal conversation, things won't work out. You should be able to talk about anything, good or bad.

We should be considerate to each other, especially when discussing their appearance. It's always nice to pay a compliment. Not only does it feel good to pay a compliment, it's uplifting to receive one. It's also considerate to let someone know if you are running late for a date, or you have to change or cancel plans at the last minute.

I believe in honesty. The more open and honest you are to each other, the closer you become, and the more comfortable you feel about talking to one another regarding any matter.

If I can't trust you, why am I even wasting my time with you? What is the point of lying about shit if it only causes pain and deceit? I just don't get it. Maybe I don't understand lying to someone you could be involved with, because I am very honest and open about who I am. I don't have anything to hide, but if there is something I don't want you to know just yet, I will wait until the right time to tell you. I won't lie about it.

I used to lie all the time. I was a good liar. I could look my dad straight in the eyes and tell the boldest of all lies, and he'd believe me. Because it's not a lie if you believe it, right? LOL

Then as I got older, the lies I told started making me feel bad, like I had a conscience or something. Then I got tired of being lied to. So, at least if I'm honest, hopefully I'll get honesty in return, even though it doesn't always work that way.

I think that men and women each have their rolls in a relationship. Sure that may be a bit old fashioned, but that's just how I am. I think that when out on a date, a man should pay. I don't mean he has to pay for everything, all the time, just when you first start dating, it's a good feeling to know that he's not a sleeze. I am the kind of person that will always offer to pay.

I don't mind taking care of the check or footing the bill, every once and awhile. It's nice to share the financial burden of dating, not put it all on the shoulders of one person. I find it very sweet if I pay for dinner, and the guy hides a $20 in my purse or something. While that isn't necessary, it is very sweet.

But if I'm the one who always ends up paying for everything, and he always wants to go out, fuck that! I'm going to get tired of going out with you, because I can't afford it! If you don't have any money, how about you suggesst we stay in and watch a movie instead of going out?

I think a woman should be the nurturer of the relationship. She should be supportive and nurturing. I love to cook for my man. I feel really good when I'm able to cook for him, kind of like a sense of self worth.

She should also keep her man sexually satisfied. With my conversations with many men, a majority of the married ones often cheat because their wife isn't interested in having sex often or at all with them. Some don't even participate, but just lie there.

How fucking boring is that? Now, I'm not saying it's okay for a man to cheat, but if their women were more active in keeping their sex life interesting, men would cheat less. Of course there are other factors in why someone cheats, but this is just one thing I am touching on.

The woman should be open to try new things sexually with her partner. Keep things exciting and interesting. Once things get boring, the partner starts to look elsewhere for satisfaction.

I don't know of many guys that would object to their woman being sexually adventurous, but there are some who just aren't as interested in sex as their partner. They should be willing to take that extra step to keep the sexual relationship interesting as well.

Be selfless and thoughtful. I don't know about you, but I feel really good when I'm buying something for someone else. Not only buying, but doing something nice for someone just feels really good, like that feeling you get at Christmas.

I know I love getting my car back with a full tank of gas. Especially with the price of gas these days! How awesome is that? I enjoy doing things for a man that I know he probably hates to do, like cleaning house and doing laundry, especially if he isn't expecting it.

While it may be genetically impossible for a man to be romantic, I appreciate little romantic gestures that may not even seem romantic. A card. A simple card that is funny or a note that says how much you enjoy our time together, I find that flattering. An offer to do something like cook dinner is very kind and greatly apprecaited, especially if he can cook.

Granted, the man's idea of cooking is usually with a grill, it's still great and the thought that I love. I think it's sweet if a guy offers to give me a massage. I'm usually the masseur, so I've only experienced a massage very few times. I am so used to giving massages, it's kind of a habit if I'm sitting next to the guy, that I start to massage his neck.

I find it comforting when the man takes the upper hand in decision making. One thing that I hate the most is indecisiveness. You can't decide where to eat, because you don't care, and he doesn't care. Just take control and pick! The same thing with movies or other things. It's about being in control, and showing confidence. If I don't like something you decide, I will let you know.

More often than not, I will agree with whatever you decide, because I'm a pleaser, that's what I do. I'm not saying I will agree with everything because that's boring, but come on, don't be difficult, that's irritating.

I could be wrong about all of this. After all, I'm still single.

12 June 06 - Where's Jeeves?

2009-04-12T01:26:00.000-04:00

I noticed a commercial the other day for Ask.com. I started to wonder if this was the same as AskJeeves.com. So I did some research, and it is! They poor bastards fired Jeeves, and now it's just known as ask.com. Well, they say that after 10 long years of service, Jeeves has retired. What?!? After only working for ten years his bald ass can retire? Where the fuck can I sign up for this shit?

I don't think he retired, I think he got caught banging the bosses daughter and his ass got fired. He's living it up, because he threatened to blackmail his employer with information he found connecting them to illegal immigrant and drug smuggling, so they paid him off to keep quiet. That's a smart man, Jeeves. He's documenting his travels while in retirement, and ask.com has been gracious enough to publish his journeys along with pictures.

Here we see Jeeves chillin behind the bar, scoping out the area for some hot beach ass.

Here is Jeeves getting drunk as fuck in the Provence vineyards.

This was taken by the police copter after Jeeves dumped the body of a hooker he picked up in Sydney.

Jeeves always loved the jungle. He had a thing for hot monkey sex, only Jeeves took that quite literal.

Until the Syndey police grows weary of searching for Jeeves, he's planning to scam on some hot alien pussy. I'm sure he'll be back to Earth soon, once he pisses off some alien chick's father and knocks her up with human babies.

7 June 06 - Words Are Powerful

2009-04-12T01:23:00.000-04:00

Words are powerful and Nutella is SUPERB!!

Websters defines a word as n. 1. A sound or combination of sounds, or its representation in writing or printing, that symbolizes and communicates a meaning and may consist of a single morpheme or a combination or morphemes. 4. Discourse or talk; speech: Actions speak louder than words.

No truer to that statement is words written on the internet. Words being spoken are much simpler to comprehend than words being read. When someone reads a statement, they may interpret the meaning different than what the author intended. Whereas when you are in a verbal conversation, if there is unclarity, you can pause and question the meaning. Or just stand there with a confused look on your face and wait until the other person asks what's wrong.

Since today's world is so cyber focused, many people communicate via text message, email, and instant messaging. Many times, words are misinterpreted thus creating havoc in cyber city.

I am guilty of this. I can call someone a bitch, and if this person knows me outside of my computer screen, they will know the meaning behind my word.

More often than not, my meaning of the word bitch is a term of endearment, unless our conversation turns argumentative. Someone not personally knowing me may take offense to my use of the word bitch.

I have noticed that a lot of us often find new cyber friends, and we tell them, "I love you!" This is tricky. If you say this to someone who has become emotionally attached to your words, they may think that you actually romantically have feelings for them, when instead you think they are really fucking awesome, and the best way to say that is with an "I love you!"

I throw those around to my online buddies all the time. I think, or at least I hope, they know that I mean I love them as a friend, respect their honesty and friendship and think they are great, and that I'm not trying to get into their skivvies. AND if I say that I want to kiss you, that doesn't mean I want to kiss you where you pee.

"I hate you!" from me usually means I'm fucking jealous of you, bitch! Usually accompanied by an "LOL" or :-)
Some people take that literal and think you actually have ill feelings toward them.

When I first started getting involved with the "online" thing, I got emotionally involved with someone. How does that happen? Well, I think it's because my mind was stimulated with such words that allowed me to create a perfect reality with my imagination and my own expectations.

I similize online communication to that of reading a book. Many people can read the same words, yet each interpretation can be slight to vast. Of these interpretations, how many of them are even close to that which the author was feeling at the time?

If you read the following:

"David found himself lying between her legs. He captured her wrists and braced them on either side of her thrashing head. His chest crushed her breasts and he could feel her heart thundering against him. The shock of her wriggling jolted him. His gaze fell first on the curve of her lips then rose to her flushed face, and he suddenly welcomed the doubt growing in her eyes."

Some may get slightly aroused, some may linger in anticipation, others may not just give a shit what they just read because it's just crap. My point is, everyone who just read that may be thinking differently about what is going on with this man and woman.

It's all about interpretation. That was actually a line taken from a scene in a book where the lady was trying to escape being captured and put to death by this guy.

I read the best phrase ever today in Wicked Mike's blog. It said,"pixel people" never let them close enough to hurt you.
Isn't that the truth? Without actually knowing someone, and only conversing with them via the computer, to each, we are pixel people.

Some are very true to themselves, but are a rarity, while most are only partially true, with some exaggerations. Then there are the rest who are nothing like the real person, only eluding you with false truths, or their fantasy version of themself.

I think we all just need to pay a little bit more attention to what we say and who we say it to when talking online, because you never really know who's on the other side of that screen.

5 June 06 - Will You Please Tell Me!!

2009-04-12T01:04:00.000-04:00

Please tell me why people do not wash their hands after they've gone to the restroom!This is really gross, and really seems to bother me.

I was fueling up my car yesterday at Speedway, and after all of the beer I drank prior to driving, I had to pee.I couldn't hold it until I got home, since I was about 20 minutes away, so I had to use the gas station restroom. Ugh. I really hate doing that. Especially when it's kind of an older gas station, and they don't have the toilet paper butt protectors.

I go in, redeem my Speedy Rewards to try and save a few pennies on gas, and truck it to the shitter. The first door I try is the fat people's stall. I like it because it's roomy, and usually has a nice little table or something for me to set my keys on. It was locked. Fuck! I try the other stall and it's locked too. Shit!

So, I stand around and wait for someone to flush and come out. The first one out was in the tiny stall. It was a Speedway Employee. I know this, because she was wearing her Speedway outfit and hat. What threw me off, was she went from stall to exit door and didn't stop in between to wash the piss or crotch germs off her hands. Gross!!!

Now I don't care if she stocks beer, or works the cash register, touching anything after taking a piss and not washing your hands is just gross.
Especially if other people are going to come in contact with the shit you touch.

I see this with the germtastic assmonkey's I work with too. There are two stalls in our restroom on our floor. One is the fatty stall, and the other is the regular one. I like the regular one because it's not in front of the sink with the mirror. I don't need people trying to catch a peek while I'm taking a piss or God forbid have to play bomb's away and ass splash.

Since that is my favorite stall, you can't see in, and you can't see out. Well only our employees use that stall, because we hardly have visitors to our office. On more than one occasion, I have heard someone flush, and leave without stopping to wash their hands. I try to look and see who it was, so I can call them out on being a nasty ass, but it doesn't work.

Then I try to go ask who just came back from the bathroom, because they didn't wash their hands, but no fucking body pays attention. Ew.

With all the death spreading rapidly in Rep Services, I'm afraid to touch anything, because I know there are one or more nasty asses who don't wash their hands after they squat.

Last week, one girl sounded like she had whooping cough or some shit, she was caughing so bad. Then today I saw the fat pregnant girl who looked like she was about to pass out. She had just came out of the bathroom too, and it smelled of rotten animal death in there. I made extra special sure that once I washed my hands, for about 5 minutes, I didn't touch anything without having a paper towel in my hand.

The next thing I want you to tell me is, when is it decided that you are dating someone? Who makes that decision? Is it talked about or just assumed?

Obviously I have been out of the dating loop for a while. I mean, I've met a few nice people and gone out with them, but it didn't turn into anything.

I talked to one of my old guy friends whom I thought I dated, but was apparently wrong, because he said we were just getting to know one another. Okay, that's fair. When does it go from getting to know one another, to dating? Is this discussed? Is it after a 30 day waiting period? What are the rules and stipulations of this?

See, in my warped little mind, I think it's dating if I do things, hang out, and have sex with only that person. That's because I've warded off all of the other potential datee's and stuck with one. Is this not the way it works? Do you have to talk about it now? Am I too countryfied to know what the hell I'm talking about? Do these sound like a fucking teenager's questions?

Obviously I have screwed up and had things screwed up in past relationships. I'm just trying to know what the fuck is going on now, because all of my friends who would otherwise discuss these things with me, have been married or in a long term relationship.
Now I have to depend on you to help me. Please help me!

See, back in the day, when I was in high school, when you started seeing someone, you weren't dating, you were "talking." Talking about what, I don't know, but you weren't dating until it was talked about.

I remember a few years ago getting weirded out when a guy, about 4 years older than me, asked if he could be my boyfriend. Uhhhh.....seriously? You did not just seriously ask me that and were not kidding? What?

If I'm interested in someone, they'll know. I usually bother them a lot, but not in a stalker kind of way. Maybe borderline stalker, but I don't harm their vehicles or animals. Nor do I take pictures without their knowledge. LOL Seriously, if I want to date someone, do I need to tell them, "Hey, let's date!" or do I just keep letting them know I want to hang out/go out with them?

I need help guys, seriously. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist next monday, but I don't think even she would know the answers to my questions. I hope you guys can help a sista out!

19 May - This blog sucks more than your mom.

2009-04-12T00:59:00.000-04:00

Today started off to be not so bad, until I got to the bank and the assholes kept me there for 15 minutes in the drive through. Now, I know it's not McDonalds, but shit. All I wanted was some money, how fucking hard is it to give it to me? Then the little prickster asked if I wanted my cash in any certain way. Yeah, in my fucking pocket so I can get my late ass to work!

As if that wasn't bad enough, the entire drive to work I was surrounded by people who drove with their heads in their asses. Now, I don't know how comfortable that would be, but I know they can't drive for shit with their head crammed in their anus.

I planned on blogging some worthless shit during lunch, but when I popped across the street, the fuckmothering library was closed. What the shit is that about? It's not a holiday to my knowledge. Maybe they closed so all the book nerds could go see the DaVinci Code or something?

There was a small light at the end of my shit filled tunnel when someone in rep support tried to warm up a taco or some other toxic substance from Taco Hell..erm...Bell, in the microwave, left it in the foil wrapper, and started a fire.

I don't think a fire was actually produced, but an ass nasty smell was produced and the fire alarm was set off. Since the fire department is just down the way, we got to hang outside the building until they made sure the microwave was secure.

Either the firemen were really fucking bored, or they were trying to make up for last time, when they didn't show up and our building actually was on fire, but 3 fire engines rolled up this time. Unfortunately none of the firefighters were cute. Fuck!

Anyway, after work, I paid the man, chatted with a friend, and headed to my temple of grace, Old Navy. Aww yeah bitches! I stayed until closing time.

The best part of shopping at O.N. is all the cool shit I got and spent less than $100. I would have gotten more, but unfortuately, they didn't have the khaki shorts I love so much in my big girl size. Discriminate much? I didn't see any cute shorts over a size 12.

My ass will NOT fit in a size 12. I actually heard my butt cheeks scream at me when I attempted to slide a pair on. "Bitch! You crazy! Get that shit off me!" I swear, I heard that...

I could have gotten some pants or capris, but I've got plenty of those, I wanted shorts! I guess I'll have to wait until it gets hot for them to carry the fat girl sizes. They had plenty of size 6's though. What the shit? I don't think I've ever been a size 6. Skinny bitches. Ya'll are so lucky.

At least I got some shirts that fit, and shoes! Let's not forget the shoes! I stocked up on the $3.50 flip flops in a variety of colors, and got a cool pair that was a bit more, but worth it. I even bought a belt I will attempt to transform into a necklace. Shut up! It'll be cute. I'm trendy.

After I left the temple of threads, I headed home and realized I was too fucking tired to make myself dinner. I had planned the entire drive to stop at KFC and get some chicken. When I got there the shit hole was closed! What the fuck?! It's barely 10pm!

So, I did the next best thing. I called informaiton and got the # to Applebee's, ordered some boneless wings and went to Blockbuster to get some movies.

I finally got home about an hour ago. I'll be spending my weekend reading the DaVinci Code, since I'm a "read the book before seeing the movie" kinda gal. I also got a few good movies, at least I hope they're good, to watch.

I told you lot this blog sucked! You should really start listening to me more. Honestly. No one ever listens to me!

16 May 06 - The Dating Game

2009-04-12T00:52:00.000-04:00

In her many attempts to find a guy for me, Roxann has done more than her share of playing match maker.

The first guy, I honestly wonder what she was thinking. Maybe she fixed us up so I wouldn't be a virgin anymore. Well, she succeeded, as this loser was my first. He was short, cynical, and a lying bastard. Why did I stay with him for so long? I think it's because I was young, and when we're young we don't know any better. My only regret is that I actually had sex with him, and he was my first. Due to that, I can never forget him, and am always reminded of him when I see those fucking retarded commercials for his Krazy Kustom's detailing shop.

There were a few others, but not as big a deal. She even fixed me up with some of her ex's. I guess that's what happens when you all run in the same circle of friends.

She always found a guy, and wanted to hook me up with one of his friends. Of course I didn't mind, especially when she wanted to fix me up with Quincy.

He was just the ulimate hottie. Dark complexion, dark hair, chisled body and blue eyes. I would have fucked him on the spot he was that fine. He was also pretty good in bed, but he had some drawbacks. He was 28 and lived with his parents, he was a HUGE pothead, dumber than a box of rocks, and a felon. Yeah I tried to look past his shortcomings, but it didn't work out. Especially since he cheated on me while I was in basic training.

Bless her heart, Roxann has always been looking out for me. When she had some friends over, she would make sure there was a guy there she thought I'd be interested in. A few times it ended up being Eddie.

She introduced me to Eddie when he had a huge party at his house one summer. There was a bon fire outside and music inside. When Eddie got really drunk, he became the "crier." Guess who was picked to go sit with him? Yeah, yours truely. Meet one happy, goofy drunk invited to console one sad crying drunk. Hilarity ensued. I don't remember much about that night, other than Jason walking through the fire, and Eddie passing out on the tree.

There were a few other nights that I ended up with Eddie, and that was cool, because he's cute, and he's a country boy, so he just doesn't give a fuck.

After my constant badgering of her to fix me up with one of her husbands cop friends, she finally did. I should learn to keep my fucking mouth shut after this experience because that's when I met Josh.

Yes, the infamous Gallatin County sheriff deputy whom I last lived with. He was cute, built like a line backer with pretty blue eyes. The first couple of nights we had a lot to talk about, he was sweet and totally reeled me in like a sucker fish. After a while we stopped having things to talk about, he only complained about work, and didn't seem to care much about me.

I started noticing his sick habits such as wiping his shitty ass and throwing the toilet paper in the trash and not flushing it down the shitter. He didn't seem to mind the smell of a dead mouse until I pointed out that it smelled of sour ass in the hallway. He wasn't much on taking out the trash as he left the contents of the refridgerator sit upon the counter until I posted a note, asking him to throw it out.

Needless to say, things didn't work out. They ended badly, but I don't regret how things happened. I just need to learn my lesson from that and not have Roxann fix me up with guys anymore. LOL

I don't blame her, I actually thank her for trying so hard to find someone for me. I guess we've both been wrong about guys we thought we could trust. Hopefully we'll both have better luck our next time around.