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.

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!

RTT: Letters Are Dead; And So Is Conversation

Because you know, the internet killed them. Just sayin'...

Okay I'm doing this new thing, because I'm already so random people can rarely follow my thought process in any way, called Random Tuesday Thoughts. Enjoy the link, you're very rude.

So I woke up and my back still felt like it's trying to ask for a new mattress through pain. I'm 23, not 43, and I feel like writing a letter to someone just because I'm laying on the floor. It's cold down here; I'm not happy about it.

Munchface was so excited about Lucky Charms and The Princess and The Frog this morning that she almost brought the roof down screaming out the window at the people cutting grass "OHMYGODIT'SAFWOGGIEONTHET.VANDMOMMASAIDI'MHERPINCESSSSSSSSSSS!"

Which, yes, we think it's hilarious when she says "princess" so we tell her she's Daddy's and Mommy's and Gramma's and that random person running on the other side of the lake's "pinCessssssss". But this morning, while my coffee was still brewing, my back was aching like a geriatric, and I hadn't completed my morning routine, she wasn't a princess, she was Satan's child. As she jumped up and down and danced around, I lost my nerve to scold her for screaming like she was getting beat up by the Gnomes, however, because it was so damn cute. I miss the simple joys of childhood.

I got an e-mail from my high school pen-pal. DUDE! PEN fucking PAL. You write LETTERS - not e-mails. I miss letters and cards and written sentiments to save forever. I miss seeing handwriting and beautiful or interesting stationery. I also actually miss phone calls. I prefer human interaction over e-mails and text messages, no matter how awkward it gets for me - that kept me grounded and always finding ways to adapt. Yes, I'm a socially awkward freak unless you put a drink in my hand and some good music in the background. Yes, I'm weird and most people find me extremely difficult to understand when I start prattling on about this and that. Learning to get along with people and communicating on a primitive level is good for me. It's good for you, too, so do it, dammit! 

Husband started out-processing today... insert sad face that quickly turns to a happy sigh of relief. I am going to miss my glorious Bull-DAWG nation (a.k.a Georgia) but at the same time, it's time for a change. We're headed for the dirty south... Louisiana. Yuck.

-- but anyhow! (see, there I go getting off-topic again - do try to follow)

The Housing people reminded us that we need to hire cleaners. I called Husband and told him to make sure that they knew I wasn't paying to hire someone to clean this damn house. I clean it ALL the time, every day, and if that's not good enough for them, they can pay for it.

The doors and window weren't sealed properly so every day I'm cleaning up a multitude of bugs and random particulates from the great outdoors off of everything. It's actually pretty disgusting since I have small person running around. Here, enjoy this picture of what happens when I don't dust for just two days --

my window - two days; just two days...

the corner next to the window (sans random big yellow spot)

So you can clearly see why I feel like I've done enough. They refuse to fix every problem from the busted door that floods my dining room every time it rains like it's trying to convince me to make an Ark for two of each bug, to the leaky roof that stained the floor and ceiling that they want me to pay for... oh well.

I'm on to another subject again...

Munchface told me yesterday that she was going to go to work for Husband and I decided to take a picture of it:

cue the "aww" and stuff...

My plants are starting to make me depressed. I saved them from our last house, where they were going to be demolished, and they've flourished from near dead tiny things, to big huge elephant ears - I can't save them this time. I'm going to miss them..

So my neighbor offered me $1700 for my mixer again. I tried to tell her she could offer me $10k for it and I'd still say no, but no one ever listens to me. I'm just going to stop answering the door. Munchface tells her she smells all the time - I don't get mad at her. That should tell you something.

I lost my favourite shirt. I'm sad about that. I had to wear something random today, which fits the topic of the blog, but not my mood. I look like zebra. My only belt is zebra print, my sunglasses are zebra, and now my shirt. I have a thing for zebra print, and I love it, but I didn't realize how ridiculous I looked until I walked by the mirror.

I just told Munchface not to be ugly (she was screaming about some outside toy she wanted to bring in the house) and she looked at me with her lazer beam ninja death eyes and said "but Momma, I petty pincess, I not ugee!" and walked away.

I was just pwnd.

I want to know how a silverfish got on my ceiling; also why it decided to drop onto my head. Un-cool.

And now for the end of my blahrghhhhhhh...

enjoy the squish face-