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.

*twitch*

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.

*pleasesavemefromthisplanetI'velandedon*


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.

*thisismylife...*



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.


xoxoo;

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!

RTT: I Need Sexual Healing Or Something Else That Heals

So in my absence I have:
- Moved
- Watched my Melodrama go under the knife and come out perfect -- sans the 8 inch scar on her back
- Made new friends, said fuck old friends, and hung out with old friends that I haven't seen in ages
- Tried to make my in-laws understand that my daughter is MY daughter -- not theirs.

I have also semi-tried to conquer my extreme fear of bridges, gotten back on my daily dose of anxiety medication to deal with everything going on, basically wanted to scream and yell and pitch a fit to the head of the whatever in the Air Force that - yet again - fucked us; it's been one hellacious past few weeks.

I have dearly missed my weekly blogging, and the immense joy I receive from reading the amazing-ness that I follow.

I applied for several jobs; One I actually get to use my degree for, one that I would rather die than do, one that requires me to go back to school for a short period of time in Ferriday (which I seriously doubt Husband will let me do), and one that I would LOVELOVELOVE to try.

I am craving tamales thanks to the new restaurant in town that we've eaten at two day in a row and I can't seem to stop drooling about.

I got a new pair of winter boots -- ones that do not include a hole cut into the toe because my Grandmother is a tish bit nutty. I am pretty excited to wear them tomorrow (cue me asking everyone to will this awful rain away) and I hope that Husband doesn't make fun of them like my other pair that are sitting in a box that I can't seem to find.

House hunting fucking blows ass. The end.

I am trying very hard not to murder anyone, so people that know me - pray extra hard to whatever you believe in that I succeed in this new endeavor.. also, pray that we find a house, a couple of jobs, and a new drive-thru to get extra large sodas at; Hammer's pissed me off tonight.

Now, that you've read my RTT for the week, get your ass over to The Unmom and do it yourself next week.


GO!



Um, stop reading and do it MEOW!

Something Serious That's Worth Reading

October 12th is the 12th anniversary of the murder of Matthew Shephard. I was pretty young when it happened, but I still remember.

I was always different in a lot of ways. I was the fat kid with glasses and braces. I was the unattractive, socially awkward, outcast that had a few friends here and there, but none that were really solid. I always knew I was attracted to girls, as well as guys, but my family made it so "taboo" that I didn't voice the feelings.

My family..

There are a lot of bigoted people residing in my family -- something I don't like to admit. I come from the deep south -- southern belles, pecan trees, the works. My family holds true to the values of the "old south" -- no "fags", no "niggers". There are also a lot of open-minded people in my large family; we are a diverse group that tends to agree to disagree on a lot of issues.

With that being said, you can imagine that my "live and let live - it's not your place to judge" attitude set me apart. I believe that intolerance is just that - intolerance. There isn't a way to sugar-coat it and make it pretty. You can't tie it up with pretty paper and lace and make it any easier to look at. I believe that everyone is unique and beautiful; I believe that everyone has their own views and mannerisms that make them who they are -- make them special; I believe that it doesn't matter what colour you are, what religion you practice, or how you live your life -- though there are the normal things I find appalling: murderers, thieves, radicals; these people lead me to intolerance for what they do, but I'm sure everyone feels that way, right?

I've never lied about who I am, where I come from, or how I feel about life. I have covered certain aspects up to appease my extremely traditional family, which, in my eyes, is completely acceptable. I love them and I don't want to hurt them; being bisexual would hurt them.

But you should never have to feel like a freak for those reasons. Ever. I felt like a freak; I felt like I was "going to hell" for who I was and what I believed. That, my friends, is what intolerance does to people. I had to grow up feeling like the biggest failure alive - my problem with social settings probably had a lot to do with that.


What I'm trying to say is actually pretty simple. Don't be a bigot; don't hurt people just because they are different; don't tell someone who they love and what they believe is wrong -- it's not your place. Why is is okay for people to call members of the LGBT community "fags" and "queers"'; and tell them they're "wrong" and "going to hell"? Did you know it's a federal offense to call someone a "nigger"? That's racism, and that can land you in prison.

By definition, the word "nigger" basically means someone who is ignorant. Shouldn't the person screaming the word at others turn that insult around on themselves? Of course they should -- but they won't. You'll never hear a member of the Klan say "Hey, ya know what? They're not the "nigger", I am!". You'll never read where Hitler told his followers "We aren't right; They aren't bad people because they're not like us. We should change the name of our little 'club' from Nazis to 'Niggers'!".

You most certainly will not hear people who say terrible things about people who don't love they way they do refer to themselves as "niggers" -- you should, but you won't.

But back to the point.. Why is it a crime to slander someone for their race, but not their sexual orientation? People die every day because of small nuances that make them different -- yet nothing ever changes. Race shouldn't take precedence over orientation. They're all hate crimes, and should be treated as such.

I hope one day my child can live without fear of being who she is; I hope one day everyone will be equal; I hope one day I can tell my family who I am and not feel ashamed or like I'm killing them.

Don't Christians have the saying "Everyone is equal in the eyes of the Lord"?

Pizza isn't comfort food when it makes you violently ill..

Today, like the rest of the past few weeks, has been insane. Here is a little bit of a recap of today that pretty much mirrors the last two weeks, and will project on to the rest of this month:

Melodrama had the entire house up before morning Taps to pile into our extremely depressing car and drive two hours to Atlanta. If you live in Georgia, or have ever been to Atlanta, you understand. It wasn't exactly my dream morning.
We get to 400, and BAM! - traffic. Lots and lots of traffic. Of course Ass-band wasn't exactly helpful; Why would he be when he knows I'll just put on my Super Mom cape and do everything with a smile?

So after dealing with a missing doll, cup, and stray M&M, we finally get there.


OHMYallegoryforgodDUDE!!!!! They have full-time super cool therapy dogs that just sit on really funky couches next to massive fish tanks all day. Melodrama was so excited about life at the moment of eye contact with the animals that we spent 30 minutes standing around in a massive lobby with a volunteer and several other screaming children. Cue anxiety hives, exhaustion, migraine, and general unhappiness. Now, to elaborate, I love my daughter more than I love caffeine, right? I don't love crowds, screaming and squealing noises from well over a dozen children, and I'm allergic to dogs.
Yes, the dogs were amazingly friendly and over-enthusiastic about my toddler hanging from their necks, the fish were gorgeous, and the volunteer that lead us to Lab was super understanding of Melodrama's ADHD. No, I wasn't having a good time - especially when there were other mothers there trying to ask me strange and semi-personal questions.

"How old is your daughter? You look exceptional for a young mother."
"How did you lose all the baby weight?"
"How do you keep your piercings in?"

To answer your extremely nosy questions, Mom-zillas:

- She's two; Yes, I'm pretty banging for a young Mom.
- I don't sit on my ass eating cupcakes and Twinkies all day. I get up off my lazy ass and stay moving ALL DAY. Thanks for the compliment - albeit it wasn't delivered in a very considerate fashion.
- I just fucking do.

All in all, Melodrama came out two vials of blood lighter, 20 + stickers and band-aids more decorated, and exhausted both myself and Ass-band. It was a rather eventful day that I can't even continue typing for fear of reliving it in my mind and becoming even more wiped out.


I get home to e-mails that won't wait - nice right? I am now going to be hosting a very awkward visit from my Dad and my Step-Mom. This should make for one hella fantastic blog when I return from the land of Children's Hospital of Atlanta next week sometime.

Melodrama just informed me that I should be cleaning up her mess thanks to Ass-band; I guess I should get on that now.


Anyone have any M&M's I can give her to quell the screaming and running around? hehe.. yeah.

RTT: Oops I Taught Her To Cuss

I've decided to go ahead and do my RTT tonight. I have been too busy for words to possibly describe lately, and I've missed out on blogging about a lot of things.

I have to go back to Atlanta tomorrow. I have to watch Melodrama go under the knife on Monday. Wow. That's a lot for me to fathom right now; I mean, come on, she's only two!

I actually got excited today when Maintenance came to "fix my roof" - until I noticed all they did was spray a 2% Clorox© solution on the ceiling to hide the stains and leave. Thanks for nothing, dick-less wonders.


I totally died when I got to see one of Ass-bands superiors/co-workers/friends almost trip and fall flat on his ass today when he saw Melodrama walk through the Clinic doors. It pwnd. Melodrama made two dollars, got two large Cinnabon© buns, lots of attention, candy, and two balloons from the excursion to MedGroup. I was pretty stoked on seeing her so happy - especially since my day consisted of logging exactly 7.9 hours of talk time on my phone.

Last week, Melodrama had to get an MRI. They had to sedate her, she had to fast, we got lost, and we had to get up at 4 a.m to even consider making it on time. Thanks to two wrecks and a broken stop light, we were late.
So I almost punched a nurse in the face (anxiety at the highest it's been in years) when she decided it would be an awesome idea to rip an I.V needle from Melodrama's hand among other things. It was not a good day - though I did get Starbucks, Project 96-1, and Bahama Breeze out of the deal.


Ass-band decided to try and steal my planner today - not the smartest thing you've ever done, darlin'. I have two: one for my bag, and one main one for everywhere. I think it's pretty normal to write down EVERYTHING you have to do in a day, right? Right?

uhmmmm... yeah... *ahem* anyhow.

My bird got out today :/ Like, HE. WENT. ALL. THE. WAY! :o
Luckily one of his wings is still clipped for the most part, and he basically flew around the yard, low and in a retarded circle, squawking at me until he got tired and shit on my shoulder. Nice, Ziggy, nice.

I got a new toy this past weekend :D A brand new Shop-Vac!! It's pretty sweet, I'm not gonna lie.


Funniest event from this weekend:
Me: "Babe, hand me a cookie, please." *extends hand to Ass-band*
Ass-band: *hands the entire package to me* "Yes, the white oreo cookies."
Me: "I see that.. and I care why?"
Ass-band: "You care because I'm fucking racist. I'm the fucking Adolf Hitler of cookies. I don't like the black ones." *totally serious facial expression*
Me: "You're fucking stupid. Adolf Hitler didn't like a lot of things, but I'm sure he didn't give two shits what his cookies looked like." *completely amazed by Ass-band's ever-growing brain loss*
Ass-band: "I hate Jew cookies, too." *again, totally serious look on his face*
Melodrama: "Shut up, Daddy. Don't say that. Mom will hurt your hand." *standing with hand on hip, pointing viciously at his face*
Ass-band: "Mommy can't hurt Daddy, she's 3/4 a minority, and I, the Adolf Hitler of cookies, would destroy her. I hate minority cookies, and, right now, I hate Mommy."
Me: "Fuck off."
Melodrama: "Daddy, fuck off."
Ass-band/Me: --->  :O *this face* ... .... BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


fin.


GO RTT NAOOOOOOOOOOO! *does her best Arnold impersonation from the only good movie he ever had*