12 April 2011

What Do You Call Stalkers On Twitter?


I stopped using it like, a while ago, like, seven months to be exact, right? I got a follower request and went to scope it out and BAM! My psycho ex-husband's new vicitim, err, I mean wife, is trying to follow me.


Do I look like I want to be friendly with you guys? I wouldn't shed a tear if you jumped off a bridge. I loathe and despise you, sir. And yes, that DOES in fact mean your wife as well.

It got me so weirded out that I decided if Twitter is THAT big these days I'm going to start using mine again. Mainly because I'm kind-of burnt out my Facebook but, yeah, you know.. change of pace and all.

Sooooooo..... FOLLOW MEH! @BAMFtASTiC.

See you on the Twit-side!

01 February 2011

RTT: Things Suck More In Louisiana


Today has already been one entirely over-stressful day. That sucks because it's not like I'm not ALREADY stressed out from first test jitters and financial ruin looming and the winterocalypse and the cat.. did I mention he pounced on my head while I was putting makeup on? Yes, he did. He apparently needs to seek therapy.

So we, errr, I mean I did our taxes today....... the state in which we live in has -- yet again -- fucked us over. And not even with the consideration of lube; just nasty, horrible, dry rape. Thanks a lot, La. Thanks a whole bunch. Fuckers.

My first test is today. Imagine a girl with extreme anxiety problems and a tendancy to over-analyze and worry who just happens to be a genius that sucks at math and taking tests. That's me, and I'm nervous. I'm freaking out and the cat isn't helping. He's staring at me with this judge-y eyes like he just KNOWS I'm going to flunk it because he's a cat and they're like super all-knowing creatures. Fuck you, too, Spazzy McSpazz.

My phone, my glorious phone, with my awesome SIM card and my SD card full of things of importance, is still missing. I seriously hope no one stole it and was stupid enough to chuck it out somewhere like the last time. I really kinda need that thing. It's like, super important.. and stuff. I'm like a failure when it comes to having a phone. This will make the second time it's been stolen, and that really sucks because I NEED it. It's not like it cures cancer or anything, but it does hold potential job interviews and my life on a phone and a bunch of other shit that really means like, a lot. I'm emotionally compromised because I can't call anyone. This is like cutting me off; stranding me on a deserted island; putting gum in my hair when there's no peanut butter or mayonnaise in the house to get it out. SERIOUS. SHIT.

 I don't want to go to school today.. I don't want to take a test. I just want to lounge around the house and study some more. It doesn't help that I just found out I'll be missing gumbo tonight. Definitely sad-facing over here, and like, there are tears and shit. Gumbo is important. Almost as important as my phone, but not quite.

Gameboy Pokemon sucks. Just wanted to share.

29 January 2011

E-mail To An Asshole That I Will Never Send - Maybe

So I have this friend.. had this friend.. that used to be my, I don't know, best friend of sorts. She was the person I called anytime, anywhere, and talked to for hours at a time.. or until one of our phones died. She was always there for me no matter what was going on. I loved her like an extension to my family. My daughter loved her and even Ass-band loved her. It was the perfect friendship. I did all I could do for her, and helped her through all kinds of shit that I really didn't want to get into but that's what best friends are for and I loved her so I did it no matter the consequences.

And then, almost three years ago, she stopped talking to me. She's on my accursed Facebook, and she wouldn't even say hey if I tried to start a conversation. I'd long since been kept out of the loop when she changed phone numbers and I'd started to feel like a stalker for my once-a-month comments like "Hey XXX, I miss your face. Call me sometime and we'll catch up over coffee!"...

I don't want to feel like a stalker, so I stopped doing it about a year ago. Ass-band keeps asking about her, Melodrama sees her picture and asks me to call her, and my best dude friend always asks have I talked to her and I'm always having to walk around with a stupid look on my face and an eye twitch.

I tried to e-mail her the other day, but I couldn't bring myself to hit the send button. I've wanted to tell her so many things over the course of [almost] three years. I've wanted her to share in my joys and my sorrows, just like she used to. Our lives overlapped so much for so long that it was just natural to see my Sidekick glued to my ear no matter what I was doing. I think back fondly on the many years of friendship and tomfoolery, but the charade is over.

Here's the letter I decided to write and pussied my bitch ass out of sending. I'll share it with the blog world, and if she sees it and happens to know it's about her, so be it. Enjoy. I suck at writing letters, by the way.


Wow, it's been almost three years! I found your e-mail in my address book, and I am hoping against hope that you didn't change this, too. I heard you moved and changed your number (well, read off your Facebook), and I tried to get in touch with you to get your new number and address for Christmas gifts and the likes, but you brushed me off. It kind of bothered me, but since I'm a pussy when it comes to my friends, I never said anything.

I changed my Facebook a while back, and you added me again. I was elated. I took that to be a good sign, and I tried to talk to you again. To no avail. That really hurt me, because I love you like a sister; I have told you things my husband doesn't even know and I have been there for you through good times and "I'm so depressed I'm going to kill myself in this manner" times.

Why exactly have you chosen to abandon the bond that we shared? Why have you come to ignore the one friend who never did you wrong? Was it something that was said -- or something that was not?

I guess being southern, a mother, and using boxed mac-n-cheese to make my husband happy made me not good enough, but your attitude and the way you've made me feel all this time kind-of tips the scales in my favour of being the better friend and better person. No matter how busy you think your life is, it doesn't even compare to any woman with a child, a job, a degree in progress, a husband, and a bird.. or some other kind of pet but still. All you have is you and your husband to worry about.. and he's a grown ass man who should know how to make a sandwich if you're busy with other shit.

Look, all I'm saying is that through all the hard times and the busy times and the times when I wanted to flat out drink myself into a coma for a month, I've tried to still be there for you. Where's your try? Fuck this shit.. I hate writing damn e-mails and I'm tired of coming up with nice ways to say:
Hope you're happy, hope you're well, hope you choke on a carrot. Seriously, eat a fucking dick unless you want to say hey and then I'll totally be excited and talk to you again because, again, I'm a fucking pussy when it comes to bitches like you. I think it's because you're cute.

All my best, 

I Amaze People With Myself

Yeah, I totally am. I'm 23, almost 24, and I'm sleeping on a loveseat. And I'm cold. And I have no blanket. And I have TB in my arm.

Moving on...

I started school this week. It's a bitch. I've still yet to regain feeling in my right index finger. So. many. notes. ohmygod. I thought real college was rough until I became a student at a Vo-Tech school. I now realize that my college days were a breeze and everything I ever did there was magical and wonderful and so much fun. My professors were amazing, my friends rocked, and my living situation did not include in-laws or parents or anyone else like that.
I had to get a TB scratch test done. It always sucks, but what can you do? I guess I could not do it and waste the money I've put into school and quit. Quitting is for losers, though, and I am most definitely not a loser. I'm super fucking awesome and you should be very happy about that fact.

I took some pretty cool pictures today of Melodrama and my friend's dog, Muffin-top. We're going to call her Muffin-top because everyone else in my blog has a code name so the dog gets one, too, and we're also going to give the friend one since everyone else got one and she gets Rage. You know, because she has horrible road rage. Especially in Natchez. Definitely in Natchez.

So Rage and I were talking about something completely random the other night on the way home from class and we decided to call our men folk, Ass-band and Walter (I really hope he never sees that I've decided to call him that), and it was all good and great while we were laughing and listening to the phone ring and whatnot... until they answered and we said hey and magically my phone unpaired from the car and died.


The phone has yet to be seen again. I think someone stole it and since we were sitting in traffic with other people from the same class it could still link to the car and when we drove away it lost that ability. And I realized it was gone. Which sucks ass because now I have no phone. Epic. fail.


After blowing me off because I'm boring and a bitch, Ass-band did something nice for me this evening. I was rather shocked but, hell, I'm not complaining. He brought me a huge salad and a drink and actually told me goodnight instead of grumbling about my computer light and my studying in bed and falling asleep with his ass on my leg and farting. Loudly. I was happy.

Until I realized that Rage and Walter snore, and Muffin-top is having whiny puppy dreams. And then there's the fan..s...

Did I mention I'm freezing to death?

Isn't she lovely?
Muffin-top is hella awesome.

Did I happen to mention I'm going bald? Oh yes I am.

21 January 2011

Oh, About That

I think it's been far too long since I actually got to blog, so please excuse and errors or thoughts that trail off into something else -- also be aware that my screen is dimmed to the lowest setting and I can barely press my laptop keys because someone is being a down-er and wants to "sleep". PFFT! Sleep... sleep is for the weak.

So where to begin, where to begin?

Melodrama started Daycare. That was extremely tragic -- for ME. Not her, me. I bawled and begged and sank into this horrid depressed state where I just sat around eating random food for comfort for a good, oh, three days?

I'm totally fine now. *coughcough*

Melodrama loves it and the staff is amazing and it gives me time to apply to countless jobs and house hunt. Go me. I'm getting my shit together. Finally. I really miss working from home because I miss my kiddo and she's really falling behind on her sign language. *mental note*
I've had a lot of people tell me what an abomination I am for sending her packing to a daycare center when I don't even have a job yet. I've also had people call me out for not using cloth diapers and not being able to breast feed, but who really gives two fucks about any of that? Certainly not my self-esteem/self-worth issues.. nope.

I'm totally fine. *hackhack*

I decided, after not being able to find ANY decent paying work in this odd little place, to take some classes and become... drum roll please... a Phlebotomist. *cue applause*
It's a 12 week course that will give me the skills and knowledge to stand in a clinic/hospital for 12 hours a day, 6-7 days a week and draw blood. I will be paid to be a needle vampire.

Fuck you if you just asked yourself if I would sparkle. Haven't you heard? I hate Twilight. I wish that woman would stop publishing her childish and pathetic drivel of a diary. The End.

I'm still, totally fine. *coughhack*

Husband FINALLY got all the massive amounts of stuff finished so he can start work. Hopefully he WILL NOT decide to take the job on the oil rig since he got the job he's starting next week. I just got him back from the military and would like a little time to be, ya know, a FAMILY.


zOMFG! WE FOUND A HAUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We are in an extreme state of love over this 1930's carpenter-style abode. It is a definite fixer-upper, but I couldn't be more in love. It's perfection! I will provide a link to the historically registered masterpiece. You will fall in love, too, if you love houses and projects and the likes.

The holidays were a mixture of ups and downs. This was my first holiday away from home and I was BEYOND a bawling, sniveling, wretched bitch of a mess. I think I pretty much died at one point and the only thing that revived me was the putrid smell of sweet cornbread.


I got a new car.. right before we left for my state for Thanksgiving. The night we left to come back, two days later, my tire exploded on the interstate at 75 miles an hour and destroyed my new pretty Jeep. Well, destroyed is a pretty strong word. More like maimed and disfigured horribly. Thankfully I'm an amazing and stellar driver and I made it safely to the side of the super busy Interstate 85-S before breaking down into shaking tears and grabbing Melodrama and the phone to call my Dad -- who was an hour away and asleep, so not at ALL happy to hear me begging for his Daddy powers.


I am actually about to share a picture... just one. Not of the Jeep, or of the new me (now with short hair and 15 lbs lighter), the disgusting sweet cornbread, or anything else. I am going to share my amazing photography skills and delight the blogging world with my gorgeous daughter. With the picture, I also close this atrocious mess of a post and promise my next one will be less of a failure and more... better-er.


cutest. toddler. ever.

Oh, and here's the link to the house we're getting.. err, HOPE we're getting.

You know you want to see it!