That would be THIS week.
Have you ever had one of those days where nothing went right and everything went wrong and you wanted to die but you couldn't and even your sentences were long and drawn out and incoherent?
My whole week has been like that, only it's not over yet. I've been contemplating digging a hole for my head because it works for large birds and I'm sure it could work for me...right?
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
21 June 2012
11 March 2012
Home Run Inn Frozen Pizzas: A Review*
Since I joined this whole Klout mess to get free stuff, I've received several perks that I enjoyed. An awesome screen cleaner, several early-access codes to start ups that I can check out and use before the hype, several codes to websites (hey free money!), etc. It's been a generally interesting experience, though them telling me I earned a perk AFTER it's full isn't cool, I'm just sayin'.
I got the Home Run Inn frozen pizza perk, and was stoked. A free meal for my ridiculously hungry family. Score. I'm broke, so this was like a gift from the heavens above. The pack came, and inside was a folder FULL of information on the company, the coupons for two free pizzas of my choosing, and a really awesome pizza cutter.
I LOVE the pizza cutter. I got the pack about a month and a half ago, and I've used it over every other one in the house. It's also really amazing (to me AND everyone else in the house) that you can take it apart and get it completely clean.
We finally got around to getting the pizzas yesterday. We were told that they were only sold in our area at Ingles and Publix. Publix is hours away, and Ingles is farther than I care to drive, even for free pizza. And then, what a crazy, random happenstance! We found them at the local Bi-Lo. The variety was limited, but the two family favs were there, so we grabbed a Classic Pepperoni and a Classic Cheese.
When I opened the package, I was a bit confused, to be totally honest. The cheese has already been baked.. I was completely skeptical that twice-baked cheese would be any good. I popped them in, cooked them, and tossed a salad on the table. Supper time! Ding ding!
We all sat down, and the adults (because my toddler could care less what it tastes like, as long as it's pizza) went to tasting. I love that my family will pretty much do anything I ask them to when I tell them it's for my blog.
Here are the reviews of four normal people (who usually either eat homemade pizzas, or the cheapest frozen one I can find that doesn't look like cardboard. It all depends on time and how broke I am that paycheck.):
So, that's that. Two pizzas, total value $15.98 normally(sans tax), on sale this week for $11.98(again, tax not included, mostly because I'm lazy), and with the coupons provided, free.
Also, I don't agree with Huband. They taste nothing like Johnny's.
*I was given a free product or sample because I'm a Klout influencer. I was under no obligation to receive the sample or talk about this company. I get no additional benefits for talking about the product or company.
I got the Home Run Inn frozen pizza perk, and was stoked. A free meal for my ridiculously hungry family. Score. I'm broke, so this was like a gift from the heavens above. The pack came, and inside was a folder FULL of information on the company, the coupons for two free pizzas of my choosing, and a really awesome pizza cutter.
I LOVE the pizza cutter. I got the pack about a month and a half ago, and I've used it over every other one in the house. It's also really amazing (to me AND everyone else in the house) that you can take it apart and get it completely clean.
We finally got around to getting the pizzas yesterday. We were told that they were only sold in our area at Ingles and Publix. Publix is hours away, and Ingles is farther than I care to drive, even for free pizza. And then, what a crazy, random happenstance! We found them at the local Bi-Lo. The variety was limited, but the two family favs were there, so we grabbed a Classic Pepperoni and a Classic Cheese.
When I opened the package, I was a bit confused, to be totally honest. The cheese has already been baked.. I was completely skeptical that twice-baked cheese would be any good. I popped them in, cooked them, and tossed a salad on the table. Supper time! Ding ding!
We all sat down, and the adults (because my toddler could care less what it tastes like, as long as it's pizza) went to tasting. I love that my family will pretty much do anything I ask them to when I tell them it's for my blog.
Here are the reviews of four normal people (who usually either eat homemade pizzas, or the cheapest frozen one I can find that doesn't look like cardboard. It all depends on time and how broke I am that paycheck.):
- Now, my husband is a completely picky eater. He was raised on fast food, and anything that comes in a package. He loved it. He said it reminded him of Johnny's Pizza, which is based out of select cities in Louisiana. He didn't care for the pepperoni, because it's bland. I think he's just so used to processed pepperoni, that he has no idea what uncured slices taste like. He said he would prefer it over every other frozen pizza AND Pizza Hut, Papa John's, and Domino's (Is that how you spell it? Whatever.). HRI has scored a fan with him, and that's not easy.
- My Mom likes it. She likes the crust, and the fact that the cheese tasted like black olives on certain parts of the pepperoni pizza. It's not her favourite brand, and she definitely wouldn't pay $7-$9 for one, but she said it was really good.
- Kiddo was just happy to have pizza, but she seemed to eat the crust without as much fuss. That's always nice.
- My opinion is a little more critical, because I'M JUST LIKE THAT, OKAY?! I found it off-putting that parts of the pepperoni pizza's cheese tasted like canned black olives. I'm not a fan of them at all. The sauce was a little sweet for my taste, because I like spicier marinas. The cheese pizza was okay, but I'm not into the twice-baked cheese. It was really chewy, and lost a lot of it's flavour. The crust was probably the only thing I liked about it, and to be honest, I've had better wheat crust. I know that it's probably a great pizza when you get it fresh from the actual franchise, and maybe another variety would've suited me better, but even though it's a frozen pizza, I was left lacking. So much so, that I took a couple of bites of each kind, and was more content to eat my salad. I hate to be overly-critical, but that's my honest opinion of it. Three outta four ain't bad, right? I definitely wouldn't spend the money to buy THIS particular pizza. I will be sticking with the same old, same old. If they happen to have them on sale, I would probably buy them so the rest of my family could have them, but I'd be sticking with the rabbit food I throw on the table to make myself feel like less of a crappy parent.
So, that's that. Two pizzas, total value $15.98 normally(sans tax), on sale this week for $11.98(again, tax not included, mostly because I'm lazy), and with the coupons provided, free.
Also, I don't agree with Huband. They taste nothing like Johnny's.
*I was given a free product or sample because I'm a Klout influencer. I was under no obligation to receive the sample or talk about this company. I get no additional benefits for talking about the product or company.
26 February 2012
A Bit Of Sunday Soul-Searching (And Whining)
After the week I've had, I've done a lot of thinking. Like, why am I always the one left sacrificing and no one else bothers trying? Why am I always the one that has to back down and let everyone else have their way? Why do I always get overlooked, no matter what the situation is?
Why am I still wearing the same stuff I wore in High School, even though it doesn't fit anymore?! I need some new clothes.. bad.
I know it sounds completely whiny, but seriously, I'm always the one left holding the short straw. No one ever listens to anything I have to say, and it's easy for people to treat me poorly. I guess I'm not as bad ass as I would like to think. I always end up being the one who backs down, and gives others their way. It's becoming quite the burden, actually, and I'm getting tired of being treated like what I think or feel doesn't matter.
The only thing that I have any real control over is my writing, so I just keep clinging to it. I have like 30 random pieces I've been piddling around with, none of which are finished. I've been so down lately, I don't know how I'll pick myself up off my pillow pet some days.
Don't judge me, that thing is the best invention ever. It's the perfect pillow, complete with a place to hold onto.. the head. And it's soft and comfy and doesn't leave me waking up with a rat's nest where my hair used to be.
I make the budget and the meal plan for the two weeks in between paychecks and the likes. No one bothers to even acknowledge it. The budget is like a guideline to people.. except me. So, when we run short, or have to skip out on something, it's me that's left giving something up (like coffee and Dr. Pepper, two of my four vices). The one that tries so hard to make everything balance is always the one left out, and left holding all the blame.
I recently had no other option than to buy new glasses. I had to blow my budget to get my lenses, so I was left a crying mess in the middle of Lenscrafters. This also happened when I had to buy a pair of boots to make it through winter. If I have to spend something on myself, I get really out-of-sorts, and when I realized that the following two weeks would be tight, I made the decision to take the glasses back. I was told not to, that it wouldn't serve any purpose, and yet no one bothered to help see where we could cut random spending to make things a little less strained at the bank. Just me.
Now, I used to get told the reason that I had to make sacrifices (like not eating for days, and not sleeping, etc) was because I didn't have a job. Even when I had a job, it wasn't one where I "punched a time clock", so it was considered "stupid doodles on the internet". It really hurts to know that I'm not appreciated for the long hours and dedication I put in to be someone.. to make something of myself.. to better our family.
I have no say in anything, and yet everything is left up to me. I moved home, with my mom, not because I'm a loser, but to help her. My parents are older than most of my friend's my age, and my mom is all alone. She works long hours in a really strenuous place, and she just couldn't keep going the way she was and not have any help around the house. I help with the bills as much as I can, and I cook, clean, run errands, make phone calls, and try to relieve some stress on her.
I don't mind, not even in the least. I love this house, this area, and my mom. She's one of my best friends, as well as a huge supporter of my aspirations to do something with my life. She supports my long hours, lack of good pay, and dedication. She takes over the dishes and the laundry when she's off, and it's a huge help. She lets me sleep in when she knows I've been up too late, and helps me with the Kid. I try to make things as easy as possible, but it always seems like something goes wrong, and I'm left feeling like the worst daughter ever.
I just get sick and tired of everyone thinking I'm some terrible person because I don't visit often enough, or do things their way. I get tired of being made to "go along" with whatever everyone else wants, and told to basically not have an opinion or desire that isn't going to be the same as theirs. It really sucks, and it gets me down.
THEN I start feeling like a douchebag because I'm whining and feeling all "poor me". I spend all day acting happy and tough, but sometimes, I just can't play the part anymore. Like last night.. when I texted a friend, crying and down, and spilled all my crap onto him. It wasn't fair, and I still need to tell him I'm sorry. I don't have anyone to talk to, because if I say anything to anyone, I'm a bitch and I just want to make someone miserable.
That's totally not true. I'm actually a really nice person, who's constantly a door mat. I get pushed around, used, treated like crap.. hell, I've been told I'm worthless, the worst thing that ever happened to Husband, a bad parent... my kid has told me she doesn't love me so many times I've become almost completely numb. I'm no good, a time suck, I don't do anything but play around on the computer all day, etc. It really gets old hearing these things all the time. Especially when I hear them from my kid and people I don't even know.
Why would anyone talk about me like that? I try so hard to make everyone happy, that I end up losing my own needs and wants in the process. If I actually stand up for myself, I get threatened and talked down to until I just give in, because I've given up.
Is this how it's supposed to be? I thought compromise was a two-way street? Since when was it okay to make someone your punching bag, again and again, and treat them like they aren't important. Everyone, in some way or another, is important. Everyone has a mind and feelings, and they matter. Even if they're different than you, they still deserve to be happy, heard, acknowledged, and loved.
I guess I'm jut tired of feeling worthless to everyone. Also, I'm really tired of feeling down on myself. I guess when you hear it every day, you just kind-of start to believe it. That shouldn't happen, but it does. I'm only human, and I can only take so much shit from people before I get overloaded.
I wish I was the happy little bad ass that everyone thinks I am.. I used to be.. I guess I've just gotten lost along the way.
Why am I still wearing the same stuff I wore in High School, even though it doesn't fit anymore?! I need some new clothes.. bad.
I know it sounds completely whiny, but seriously, I'm always the one left holding the short straw. No one ever listens to anything I have to say, and it's easy for people to treat me poorly. I guess I'm not as bad ass as I would like to think. I always end up being the one who backs down, and gives others their way. It's becoming quite the burden, actually, and I'm getting tired of being treated like what I think or feel doesn't matter.
The only thing that I have any real control over is my writing, so I just keep clinging to it. I have like 30 random pieces I've been piddling around with, none of which are finished. I've been so down lately, I don't know how I'll pick myself up off my pillow pet some days.
Don't judge me, that thing is the best invention ever. It's the perfect pillow, complete with a place to hold onto.. the head. And it's soft and comfy and doesn't leave me waking up with a rat's nest where my hair used to be.
I make the budget and the meal plan for the two weeks in between paychecks and the likes. No one bothers to even acknowledge it. The budget is like a guideline to people.. except me. So, when we run short, or have to skip out on something, it's me that's left giving something up (like coffee and Dr. Pepper, two of my four vices). The one that tries so hard to make everything balance is always the one left out, and left holding all the blame.
I recently had no other option than to buy new glasses. I had to blow my budget to get my lenses, so I was left a crying mess in the middle of Lenscrafters. This also happened when I had to buy a pair of boots to make it through winter. If I have to spend something on myself, I get really out-of-sorts, and when I realized that the following two weeks would be tight, I made the decision to take the glasses back. I was told not to, that it wouldn't serve any purpose, and yet no one bothered to help see where we could cut random spending to make things a little less strained at the bank. Just me.
Now, I used to get told the reason that I had to make sacrifices (like not eating for days, and not sleeping, etc) was because I didn't have a job. Even when I had a job, it wasn't one where I "punched a time clock", so it was considered "stupid doodles on the internet". It really hurts to know that I'm not appreciated for the long hours and dedication I put in to be someone.. to make something of myself.. to better our family.
I have no say in anything, and yet everything is left up to me. I moved home, with my mom, not because I'm a loser, but to help her. My parents are older than most of my friend's my age, and my mom is all alone. She works long hours in a really strenuous place, and she just couldn't keep going the way she was and not have any help around the house. I help with the bills as much as I can, and I cook, clean, run errands, make phone calls, and try to relieve some stress on her.
I don't mind, not even in the least. I love this house, this area, and my mom. She's one of my best friends, as well as a huge supporter of my aspirations to do something with my life. She supports my long hours, lack of good pay, and dedication. She takes over the dishes and the laundry when she's off, and it's a huge help. She lets me sleep in when she knows I've been up too late, and helps me with the Kid. I try to make things as easy as possible, but it always seems like something goes wrong, and I'm left feeling like the worst daughter ever.
I just get sick and tired of everyone thinking I'm some terrible person because I don't visit often enough, or do things their way. I get tired of being made to "go along" with whatever everyone else wants, and told to basically not have an opinion or desire that isn't going to be the same as theirs. It really sucks, and it gets me down.
THEN I start feeling like a douchebag because I'm whining and feeling all "poor me". I spend all day acting happy and tough, but sometimes, I just can't play the part anymore. Like last night.. when I texted a friend, crying and down, and spilled all my crap onto him. It wasn't fair, and I still need to tell him I'm sorry. I don't have anyone to talk to, because if I say anything to anyone, I'm a bitch and I just want to make someone miserable.
That's totally not true. I'm actually a really nice person, who's constantly a door mat. I get pushed around, used, treated like crap.. hell, I've been told I'm worthless, the worst thing that ever happened to Husband, a bad parent... my kid has told me she doesn't love me so many times I've become almost completely numb. I'm no good, a time suck, I don't do anything but play around on the computer all day, etc. It really gets old hearing these things all the time. Especially when I hear them from my kid and people I don't even know.
Why would anyone talk about me like that? I try so hard to make everyone happy, that I end up losing my own needs and wants in the process. If I actually stand up for myself, I get threatened and talked down to until I just give in, because I've given up.
Is this how it's supposed to be? I thought compromise was a two-way street? Since when was it okay to make someone your punching bag, again and again, and treat them like they aren't important. Everyone, in some way or another, is important. Everyone has a mind and feelings, and they matter. Even if they're different than you, they still deserve to be happy, heard, acknowledged, and loved.
I guess I'm jut tired of feeling worthless to everyone. Also, I'm really tired of feeling down on myself. I guess when you hear it every day, you just kind-of start to believe it. That shouldn't happen, but it does. I'm only human, and I can only take so much shit from people before I get overloaded.
I wish I was the happy little bad ass that everyone thinks I am.. I used to be.. I guess I've just gotten lost along the way.
24 January 2012
Shocking Developments, The Flu, Work, And A Talking Cat -- RTTR
I have the flu. And it's not because I didn't get a shot, or because I don't use hand sanitizer. It's because I do not possess any winter shoes. I have a pair of aerated tennis shoes, some holy flats, and several pairs of flip-flops. I got stuck in freezing cold rain all day on Saturday, and my feet stayed wet. I contracted a cold, which turned into the flu.
Thank you, being broke, for making it impossible for me to buy a friggin' pair of boots. Also, thank you, tax return, for giving me the extra cash to acquire a pair.. after I got sick. At least I'll have my cherry red Ukala's soon, right? Just in time for more cold rain and yuck.
Anyhow, the flu. It sucks. It makes work nearly impossible. I have used so many eye drops trying to work today it's unreal. And now I'm blogging.. with my eye drops.. and a really sore throat. And a cough. Fuck you, flu.
I have a super bad ass article to write this week. It's about two of my most favourite things: Star Wars and video games. Together. Yay! I get to work with some friends on it, and I am actually excited to get out of the house and do something -- even if it IS for work. It'll go live next Monday, so be checking for that link.
Sunday I took my Mom to church. It was under unusual circumstances, and neither one of us really wanted to go. But we did; me with my chip on my shoulder and her with her strong religious roots. I used to love that place.. not because it was a church, but because it was a second home. I've never been religious despite growing up in that tiny little church a few miles from my house -- I'm still not.
It was awesome to see the people that helped shape me into who I am. They were extra parents and grandparents, the brothers and sisters I never had. Even though I was pretty much the outcast because I was awkward and socially retarded and they didn't really like me all that much, I will still always remember the countless hours spent in those cramped classrooms and that small fellowship hall. It was something I used to look forward to.
No one looks forward to stepping through those double doors anymore. No one even wants to talk about it. There's a new preacher in town, and he's pretty much the worst person I've ever met. I sat halfway back from the front in the same old pews I remember being a lot bigger, and listened to a supposed "man of God" disrespect and belittle every single one of the people that I loved so much. I've never been so appalled in my entire life. His wife, his friends, and some blind followers have turned that place into a den of resentment.
I stood up after I couldn't take it anymore, hands shaking, tears rolling down my face, and made a very respectful stand against his hurtful words and twisted sense of entitlement. I tried to bridge the gap, and in doing so lost the respect of my grandparents. I couldn't even look them in the eyes as I made a heartfelt plea for him to pull his head out of his ass and act like a preacher, or even a decent human being.
How can someone call themselves a man of God if they are going to verbally abuse the members of the church that have been there since before he was an afterthought? I was attacked as I stepped down and went to my daughter. It was ridiculous. The support I received from others was immense, and without them and my wonderful Mom, I would probably be lost in a bottle of something 100-proof. I just couldn't sit there and listen to the snide sarcasm and the accusations.
I really never thought I would be so depressed to be back in that church. His behavior is atrocious, and his little lackeys aren't any better. If that's what it means to be a christian, I'm thankful I'm not one. He ain't neighborly, and he definitely ain't doing what Jesus would do. Maybe he needs to take a few more classes? Maybe brush up on what it means to be a real preacher? Douchebag.
My cat talks. Seriously. I'm not crazy. He will sit and have a full-on kitty conversation. It makes me happy.
And it obviously makes me the crazy cat lady. Judge away.
This has been a really awesome post brought to you by Random Tuesday Thoughts.. Rebels! Stacy at Stacy Uncorked has kept RTT alive for all of us random-ers that can't live without our favorite Tuesday tradition. Follow the button or the link, enjoy my post and hers, grab a button of your own, link up and join the fun!
Enjoy your Random Tuesday!
Thank you, being broke, for making it impossible for me to buy a friggin' pair of boots. Also, thank you, tax return, for giving me the extra cash to acquire a pair.. after I got sick. At least I'll have my cherry red Ukala's soon, right? Just in time for more cold rain and yuck.
Anyhow, the flu. It sucks. It makes work nearly impossible. I have used so many eye drops trying to work today it's unreal. And now I'm blogging.. with my eye drops.. and a really sore throat. And a cough. Fuck you, flu.
I have a super bad ass article to write this week. It's about two of my most favourite things: Star Wars and video games. Together. Yay! I get to work with some friends on it, and I am actually excited to get out of the house and do something -- even if it IS for work. It'll go live next Monday, so be checking for that link.
Sunday I took my Mom to church. It was under unusual circumstances, and neither one of us really wanted to go. But we did; me with my chip on my shoulder and her with her strong religious roots. I used to love that place.. not because it was a church, but because it was a second home. I've never been religious despite growing up in that tiny little church a few miles from my house -- I'm still not.
It was awesome to see the people that helped shape me into who I am. They were extra parents and grandparents, the brothers and sisters I never had. Even though I was pretty much the outcast because I was awkward and socially retarded and they didn't really like me all that much, I will still always remember the countless hours spent in those cramped classrooms and that small fellowship hall. It was something I used to look forward to.
No one looks forward to stepping through those double doors anymore. No one even wants to talk about it. There's a new preacher in town, and he's pretty much the worst person I've ever met. I sat halfway back from the front in the same old pews I remember being a lot bigger, and listened to a supposed "man of God" disrespect and belittle every single one of the people that I loved so much. I've never been so appalled in my entire life. His wife, his friends, and some blind followers have turned that place into a den of resentment.
I stood up after I couldn't take it anymore, hands shaking, tears rolling down my face, and made a very respectful stand against his hurtful words and twisted sense of entitlement. I tried to bridge the gap, and in doing so lost the respect of my grandparents. I couldn't even look them in the eyes as I made a heartfelt plea for him to pull his head out of his ass and act like a preacher, or even a decent human being.
How can someone call themselves a man of God if they are going to verbally abuse the members of the church that have been there since before he was an afterthought? I was attacked as I stepped down and went to my daughter. It was ridiculous. The support I received from others was immense, and without them and my wonderful Mom, I would probably be lost in a bottle of something 100-proof. I just couldn't sit there and listen to the snide sarcasm and the accusations.
I really never thought I would be so depressed to be back in that church. His behavior is atrocious, and his little lackeys aren't any better. If that's what it means to be a christian, I'm thankful I'm not one. He ain't neighborly, and he definitely ain't doing what Jesus would do. Maybe he needs to take a few more classes? Maybe brush up on what it means to be a real preacher? Douchebag.
My cat talks. Seriously. I'm not crazy. He will sit and have a full-on kitty conversation. It makes me happy.
And it obviously makes me the crazy cat lady. Judge away.
This has been a really awesome post brought to you by Random Tuesday Thoughts.. Rebels! Stacy at Stacy Uncorked has kept RTT alive for all of us random-ers that can't live without our favorite Tuesday tradition. Follow the button or the link, enjoy my post and hers, grab a button of your own, link up and join the fun!
Enjoy your Random Tuesday!
17 January 2012
Bad Weather, Mean Kid, Dumb Husband, Fair Trades, And Star Trek For Kids: RTT Rebel
So, I traded getting out in the freezing drizzle and taking the trash to the pick-up spot for a pot of coffee and an episode of Bones. Yes, I'm that guy. I'm totally easy to barter with. Mom knows what really gets me ready to make a deal. Husband, not so much.
I'm still really happy to be home. Our awesome living arrangement is going well, and it's also keeping me busy. Since she works nights, I do the cooking, cleaning, organizing, kid watching, and working thing. I'm also about to start school again... hopefully.
I say "hopefully" because I have yet to find a suitable student loan for the remaining balance of my tuition, and "again" because, well, I've been in school pretty much the entire time I've been out of high school. I'm just trying to find my niche in the universe.
Yesterday was a really bad day to be "Mommy". I'll admit it. My kid told me she wished I would die so she didn't have to have me telling her what to do all the time. I was heartbroken. She's only three, why is this even an issue yet? What. The. Fuck? I tried to talk to Husband about it, but he just doesn't get it. He never has to be the "bad guy", so she's nice to him. I'm the one that makes sure she eats the right stuff, picks up her toys, feeds the cat, takes her dishes to the kitchen, gets the right amount of sleep, bathes properly, brushes her teeth, etc. She thinks I'm fucking Satan or something. So, of course, I get the temper tantrums and the mean names... it sucks. It sucks hard.
But, admittedly, it has been boring lately. We haven't been able to go outside and play because it's just been gross. I won't let her get her way on eating chips for breakfast or having ten pounds of candy like my in-laws do (which, fuck that.. it's not even a question of "right and wrong", but she still sees it as awful, mean mommy won't let her do something). It still doesn't make it any easier to hear your kid say something like that to you, and even though I was crying and probably making a complete case file for commitment to some kind-of institution, Husband still should've understood where I was coming from. I think he's just a douchebag man, and this is probably normal. Men aren't exactly the best listeners.
It's raining again. And it's cold. The weather hates me.
I've been adding labels to my old blog posts to avoid doing dishes. I have like, half a load, and I just don't feel like doing much today. It's fun to label things. It's like labeling a piece of pie as "yummy".
Did I mention that Curious George 2 movie has a Star Trek reference in it?! SOFUCKINGAWESOME! For Klingon, press "Cha".
Word.
Random Tuesday Thoughts lives on! Just head on over to Stacy's amazing blog, Stacy Uncorked, grab a button, link yourself up, and blog on! Thank you for keeping us all random, Stacy!
Enjoy the rest of your day!
I'm still really happy to be home. Our awesome living arrangement is going well, and it's also keeping me busy. Since she works nights, I do the cooking, cleaning, organizing, kid watching, and working thing. I'm also about to start school again... hopefully.
I say "hopefully" because I have yet to find a suitable student loan for the remaining balance of my tuition, and "again" because, well, I've been in school pretty much the entire time I've been out of high school. I'm just trying to find my niche in the universe.
Yesterday was a really bad day to be "Mommy". I'll admit it. My kid told me she wished I would die so she didn't have to have me telling her what to do all the time. I was heartbroken. She's only three, why is this even an issue yet? What. The. Fuck? I tried to talk to Husband about it, but he just doesn't get it. He never has to be the "bad guy", so she's nice to him. I'm the one that makes sure she eats the right stuff, picks up her toys, feeds the cat, takes her dishes to the kitchen, gets the right amount of sleep, bathes properly, brushes her teeth, etc. She thinks I'm fucking Satan or something. So, of course, I get the temper tantrums and the mean names... it sucks. It sucks hard.
But, admittedly, it has been boring lately. We haven't been able to go outside and play because it's just been gross. I won't let her get her way on eating chips for breakfast or having ten pounds of candy like my in-laws do (which, fuck that.. it's not even a question of "right and wrong", but she still sees it as awful, mean mommy won't let her do something). It still doesn't make it any easier to hear your kid say something like that to you, and even though I was crying and probably making a complete case file for commitment to some kind-of institution, Husband still should've understood where I was coming from. I think he's just a douchebag man, and this is probably normal. Men aren't exactly the best listeners.
It's raining again. And it's cold. The weather hates me.
I've been adding labels to my old blog posts to avoid doing dishes. I have like, half a load, and I just don't feel like doing much today. It's fun to label things. It's like labeling a piece of pie as "yummy".
Did I mention that Curious George 2 movie has a Star Trek reference in it?! SOFUCKINGAWESOME! For Klingon, press "Cha".
Word.
Random Tuesday Thoughts lives on! Just head on over to Stacy's amazing blog, Stacy Uncorked, grab a button, link yourself up, and blog on! Thank you for keeping us all random, Stacy!
Enjoy the rest of your day!
16 January 2012
My Cat Only Loves Me When... A List
Today I want to talk about my cat. His name is Stephen. He's an abused rescue that I shoved in a cat carrier and moved from Louisiana to Georgia. He went from being born and raised by the hard-knocks of the streets, to being a fat and lazy house cat in the course of 13 hours. He's extremely intelligent; you only have to show him something once, and he's got it. He's also a really big pain-in-the-ass.
He knows he's loved, and he knows he's cute -- it's a dangerous combination.
He's still really skittish for some odd reason, even though he's babied like he's king-of-the-castle. I swear sometimes I think my Mom likes the cat more than me. You're welcome, old lady.
I think he's adapted well, and we enjoy the shit out of him. He's a constant source of joy and entertainment, and even when I have to spray him in the face with the water bottle for trying to tear something up, I still can't help but smile.
But.. he's just like every other cat: he only loves us when he wants to, which is never when it's convenient. I have compiled a list of times when he wants love and attention, and I'm going to share it with you guys. If you have cats, feel free to laugh, because you know they do it to everyone. If you have anything to add, add it in the comments.
My Cat Only Loves Me When:
- I have to pee.
- I'm trying to take a shower.
- I'm brushing my teeth.. my back teeth, and I haven't spit yet.
- I'm doing something to my hair with an extremely hot tool.
- I'm putting on eye liner, mascara, or eye shadow.. just the darker shades that are hard to get off without reapplying everything.
- I'm trying to sleep.
- I'm about to get up and do something.
- I'm cooking.
- I have just accepted the fact that he's not going to come be nice to me and I set my laptop desk up.
- I'm drinking something hot.. or cold.. and I just took that first big swallow, but haven't quite swallowed yet.
- I'm on the phone with someone other than family.
- The kid wants attention.
- I'm reading.
- I'm trying to clean up the kid's mess of small toys (meaning I end up digging them out from under things like beds, couches, chairs, and the one table in the house that you're always guaranteed to hit your head on).
- I'm not in the mood.
- He's hungry.
- I just fed him and I'm taking the scoop back to the container.
- While I'm trying to feed him, and I have a scoop of food and am not paying attention to him wrapping his self around my ankles.
- I'm doing laundry.
- I'm trying to wrangle the kid into the bathtub or bed.
- Mom is all "He hates me, he's never going to bond with me, emooooooo stuff!".
- I'm writing... like now.
- He thinks I have food.
- He knows I don't have food, but am contemplating getting up to get some.
- I'm thirsty.
- I'm trying to concentrate.
- I want to practice making babies with Husband.
- Husband is sitting next to me.
- Husband wants to hold my hand.
- I really, REALLY have to get up and go pee.
- I'm trying to play with him, which usually ends up in pouting and biting.
- Mom is trying to love on him.
- I'm carrying something that obstructs my vision.
- My screen saver comes up on my laptop.
- It's time to clip his nails so I feel really bad about holding him down.
- I'm standing in front of the heater.
- I'm getting something out of the oven.
- Did I mention when I'm trying to pee?
I never understood why kids and pets only want something to do with you when it's the worst possible time. It's like they have this sensor built-in to detect when you have something going on, so they can be all up in your shit with their huge eyes and their little noses.. DAMN THE CUTENESS! DAMN IT TO HELL!
And, to leave you wondering why in the hell I even waste your time with my blog in the first place, here's a few pictures of the little rat-bastard. I do love the little shit...
He knows he's loved, and he knows he's cute -- it's a dangerous combination.
He's still really skittish for some odd reason, even though he's babied like he's king-of-the-castle. I swear sometimes I think my Mom likes the cat more than me. You're welcome, old lady.
I think he's adapted well, and we enjoy the shit out of him. He's a constant source of joy and entertainment, and even when I have to spray him in the face with the water bottle for trying to tear something up, I still can't help but smile.
But.. he's just like every other cat: he only loves us when he wants to, which is never when it's convenient. I have compiled a list of times when he wants love and attention, and I'm going to share it with you guys. If you have cats, feel free to laugh, because you know they do it to everyone. If you have anything to add, add it in the comments.
My Cat Only Loves Me When:
- I have to pee.
- I'm trying to take a shower.
- I'm brushing my teeth.. my back teeth, and I haven't spit yet.
- I'm doing something to my hair with an extremely hot tool.
- I'm putting on eye liner, mascara, or eye shadow.. just the darker shades that are hard to get off without reapplying everything.
- I'm trying to sleep.
- I'm about to get up and do something.
- I'm cooking.
- I have just accepted the fact that he's not going to come be nice to me and I set my laptop desk up.
- I'm drinking something hot.. or cold.. and I just took that first big swallow, but haven't quite swallowed yet.
- I'm on the phone with someone other than family.
- The kid wants attention.
- I'm reading.
- I'm trying to clean up the kid's mess of small toys (meaning I end up digging them out from under things like beds, couches, chairs, and the one table in the house that you're always guaranteed to hit your head on).
- I'm not in the mood.
- He's hungry.
- I just fed him and I'm taking the scoop back to the container.
- While I'm trying to feed him, and I have a scoop of food and am not paying attention to him wrapping his self around my ankles.
- I'm doing laundry.
- I'm trying to wrangle the kid into the bathtub or bed.
- Mom is all "He hates me, he's never going to bond with me, emooooooo stuff!".
- I'm writing... like now.
- He thinks I have food.
- He knows I don't have food, but am contemplating getting up to get some.
- I'm thirsty.
- I'm trying to concentrate.
- I want to practice making babies with Husband.
- Husband is sitting next to me.
- Husband wants to hold my hand.
- I really, REALLY have to get up and go pee.
- I'm trying to play with him, which usually ends up in pouting and biting.
- Mom is trying to love on him.
- I'm carrying something that obstructs my vision.
- My screen saver comes up on my laptop.
- It's time to clip his nails so I feel really bad about holding him down.
- I'm standing in front of the heater.
- I'm getting something out of the oven.
- Did I mention when I'm trying to pee?
I never understood why kids and pets only want something to do with you when it's the worst possible time. It's like they have this sensor built-in to detect when you have something going on, so they can be all up in your shit with their huge eyes and their little noses.. DAMN THE CUTENESS! DAMN IT TO HELL!
And, to leave you wondering why in the hell I even waste your time with my blog in the first place, here's a few pictures of the little rat-bastard. I do love the little shit...
 |
| He gets between my legs at night so I can't move... asshole. |
 |
| This one is from his "street" days... |
 |
I SEE U. Y U NO CAN MOVE? OH. IZ CUZ OF MEH. |
 |
POP ALL THE BUBBLES! |
 |
| Why, no cat, I'm not trying to go pee. |
04 January 2012
Neglect: My Blog Has It
I haven't posted a real, honest-to-god blog in, oh, forever. Well, more like forever, three weeks, and two days. I figure I should probably start doing things right again so I will stop having conversations with my cat and randomly bursting into tears in the shower...
Stop being all judge-y. I feel you being judge-y. It makes me itch.
Here's the slim of what I've been up to for the better part of a year and some days. Enjoy.
1. Living in Louisiana is probably one of the worst fucking things to ever happen to me in the history of fucking ever. I'm so not kidding. Aside from amazing friends, that's about all I got out of that experience. My marriage almost failed, my in-laws pretty much made me want to befriend the Mississippi River.. from the bridge.. like, I wanted to face-plant into it from the fucking bridge. Oh, and did I mention it was so awful that I wanted to punch baby seals with my fist? Because I did. A lot. Because is sucked. Immensely.
2. I finished school and couldn't get a job because, yay, the hospital chucked my paperwork into the garbage. This fact, coupled with the fact that the job market in the area we were living in was complete bullshit, made me even more down and depress-y. I was already down because of the fact that I lived in the gooch of the world; let's add on a really crap-tastic healthcare system and failing local economy. Thanks, universe. Fuck you very much.
3. I decided to move, and, thankfully, my amazing husband was supportive and decided after finishing up the jobs he was already contracted out to do, he would follow me into the great known of my home state/town. So far, so good. I love living here. My kid loves living here. My husband is so stoked to live here in the next two weeks. We're those retarded happy people that I usually make fun of now only we're broke.
4. Moving really helped everything, to be honest. My marriage is better than ever, my kid is happier and healthier than she's been since we moved from here the first time, my Mom is healthier and happier having me as her slave, err, I mean having me close-at-hand... under her roof... no, this doesn't bother me in the least because I have the coolest fucking Mom ever, and living with her is pretty much like living with a bad-ass, older version of me.. and taller... and dorkier... but still.
5. I really don't have a 5, but I am extremely OCD, and I really like odd numbers. Especially when they're multiples of 5. They make-ah me happy...ah. Whatever.
So, in conclusion, here's what we should be taking away from this post. In multiples of 5. Again. Redundancy FTW!:
-I hate the entire state of Louisiana and most of Mississippi. Fuck those places.
-I moved. Georgia = my favourite place to live.. and stuff.
-I like Ass-hat more than I've liked him since the three month mark of our coexistence as married people.
-I have a really awesome kid who's really fucking awesome.. also, My Mom is tall.
-I like odd numbers and multiples of 5.
Thanks.
Stop being all judge-y. I feel you being judge-y. It makes me itch.
Here's the slim of what I've been up to for the better part of a year and some days. Enjoy.
1. Living in Louisiana is probably one of the worst fucking things to ever happen to me in the history of fucking ever. I'm so not kidding. Aside from amazing friends, that's about all I got out of that experience. My marriage almost failed, my in-laws pretty much made me want to befriend the Mississippi River.. from the bridge.. like, I wanted to face-plant into it from the fucking bridge. Oh, and did I mention it was so awful that I wanted to punch baby seals with my fist? Because I did. A lot. Because is sucked. Immensely.
2. I finished school and couldn't get a job because, yay, the hospital chucked my paperwork into the garbage. This fact, coupled with the fact that the job market in the area we were living in was complete bullshit, made me even more down and depress-y. I was already down because of the fact that I lived in the gooch of the world; let's add on a really crap-tastic healthcare system and failing local economy. Thanks, universe. Fuck you very much.
3. I decided to move, and, thankfully, my amazing husband was supportive and decided after finishing up the jobs he was already contracted out to do, he would follow me into the great known of my home state/town. So far, so good. I love living here. My kid loves living here. My husband is so stoked to live here in the next two weeks. We're those retarded happy people that I usually make fun of now only we're broke.
4. Moving really helped everything, to be honest. My marriage is better than ever, my kid is happier and healthier than she's been since we moved from here the first time, my Mom is healthier and happier having me as her slave, err, I mean having me close-at-hand... under her roof... no, this doesn't bother me in the least because I have the coolest fucking Mom ever, and living with her is pretty much like living with a bad-ass, older version of me.. and taller... and dorkier... but still.
5. I really don't have a 5, but I am extremely OCD, and I really like odd numbers. Especially when they're multiples of 5. They make-ah me happy...ah. Whatever.
So, in conclusion, here's what we should be taking away from this post. In multiples of 5. Again. Redundancy FTW!:
-I hate the entire state of Louisiana and most of Mississippi. Fuck those places.
-I moved. Georgia = my favourite place to live.. and stuff.
-I like Ass-hat more than I've liked him since the three month mark of our coexistence as married people.
-I have a really awesome kid who's really fucking awesome.. also, My Mom is tall.
-I like odd numbers and multiples of 5.
Thanks.
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