What a year, what a life

I've been thinking about the past year lately, and a lot of it was bullshit. I've rolled with the punches though and survived everything with a somewhat new, if not jaded, view on my life, and the world at large. As I was discussing the events of my not so boring past year with a client yesterday, I thought to myself that I was going to have a good year in 2007. Not to say that it will actually happen, but you never know. I'm not generally one to be an optimist, but I wouldn't consider this optimistic...I consider it...determined. Just call me Dita Von Determined. I have made up my mind, and nothing, not even the death of my beloved grandmother who happens to be holding on tight by the way, will bring that dark cloud over my head back. Or the storm that just currently resides inside me. I have a great family, even if I do get annoyed with them from time to time. I have great friends and great kids. I've done the final head nod on my decision, so you know I'm serious. With that being said, I have absolutely no way to predict the future, even with my trusty tarot cards, all I can do is try, try and try again. And I'm not going to come up with any resolutions this year. Every year I ponder over what I could resolve to do for the new year and it never comes to fruition. So this year I am just going to "roll with the punches" and make life happen. I now believe that the resolutions hold me back and don't really allow me any breathing room for...anything really. They keep me restricted with the confines of a list of one to, sometimes, 10 things I'm "supposed" to do and that to me is like wearing a straight jacket. So bring on the new year and give me your best shot. No one can break me. Constitution isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

The devil wears...shoes

First off, let me start by saying that I hope ya'll had a great Christmas. Mine was subpar at best. I basically slept all day, between the openings of presents. I got good ones. I was just out of it. And I wasn't even hungover. The best present though was my daddy showing up on my sisters' doorstep. I haven't seen him for quite some time, so that was rad. I also got to see my little (read: younger, taller than me) sister and her new, wait for it, husband. HUSBAND. She's 17...barely. The icing on the cake? She's also pregnant. On purpose. I'd so hoped she wouldn't make the same mistakes...*ahem* little accidents...I did. Not to say I don't love my crazy, funny, amazonian children...and there's not really any regret left...but still, there's always the wondering what would have become of me had I chosen a different path. But I digress. I'm a little disappointed in her...a little saddened, but if that's what she wants, I guess there's no stopping her. Especially considering she ran away to Juarez, Mexico to elope. I think we pretty much put the DIS in disfunctional. On a sadder note, my grandmother isn't doing well at all. We don't think she'll live through the week. I sat with her for a few hours today so that my mom could get out into the real world, and it was hard. Six days after my 12th birthday, my grandfather (this grandma's husband) died of cancer...I was present when it happened and needless to say it traumatized me pretty bad. So being with her today brought me back 15 years...basically I was real paranoid that she would pass while I was there and I wouldn't know what to do. We both survived the afternoon. Although it's sad to see her like this. This being a woman who never learned how to drive and walked everywhere. She worked in the fields with other migrants picking cotton and grapes. She survived constant physical and verbal abuse from her husband. She gave birth to my mom, five months early I might add, herself on her kitchen table. She raised 4 sons and 2 daughters and took care of countless grandkids...you know us Mexicans, we multiply...and she's lived to be 87. And to this day, in her weakened condition, she will still stand to offer you her seat. Having been raised to be hospititable...making food for large amounts of people, serving all the men in the family, giving up her bed for anyone in need or any visiting relatives...it's in her blood. And even though she can barely stand on her own, she's STILL trying to make us and serve us food. STILL trying to make us as comfortable as possible. She is a wonderful lady, mother, grandmother, aunt, sister and friend. As I type, type, type away, the tears flow easily, cause while she's still holding on tight to that small shred of life left in her, the grasp will losen quickly and she will be missed...immensely. Through all this, I'm holding up well though. I have to...for my mom. As most of you know, we already went through all this with my uncle not 6 months ago. But we have to keep our chins up and plow through life with tenacity and strength. After all, I have two mini-me's that need tending to. Remember, we do not remember days, we remember moments.

My original subject was too "emo"

It's funny the way things can suddenly turn around. Not always for the bad...but not always for the good either. Maybe for the...kinda ok. But honestly, I never really know what to think about...anything, really. My mind, my thoughts, are usually a jumble of scrabble letters on the stands before anyone really makes any actual words out of them. Triple word score on Demented...wait, that's not right, is it?

Letters come together, sometimes they form words, sometimes they don't. It's my longoria (read: word vomit) and I live by it. Mainly because that's just how it is in my little horrorland. The letters, the words, the sometimes full, actual sentences...they don't always make sense. Not to me...not to people...not to the actual voices in my head. It's something I come to live with. And so it begins. Take two drinks. A couple of pills. Repeat.

When I think, I write. When I write, it doesn't always make sense. This is a grand example of one of those times. Currently I sit in front of my weasels' computer, listening to the soft purr of snores as he sleeps, and I think. I think and I think...of what it is that I actually want to say, and...nothing. Nothing comes to mind. Yet, when I'm not looking for words, or sentences, they spill out like a bulimic's Christmas dinner. It's uncontrollable...to a point. To the point that it's hard for me...at least in the past few years...to actually cry in front of anybody. I'll bite my lip as hard as I can and intermonologue, "Don't cry, don't cry. Just breathe." It works, but it's hard. And kind of controllable (read: tough acting).

So, is there an actual point to this little rant of mine? Not really. In fact, I'm drunk...on natty light and day four of no sleep. I wonder if I'll be able to sleep at least a little tonight. The past 3 days, it wasn't really affecting me. In fact, when I worked (read: paid gym), I seemed to feel better and actually energetic. You know, the adrenaline combined with a high dosage mix of Monster and Diet Coke pumping through my veins as I moved boxes around and lifted and squatted as recquired...made me a little awake, despite the lack of the sleepytown visits. But now, it's the weekend. No working (out) for a whole two days. And my battery juice pretty much seemed to run out halfway through today. Which, like the past two days, seemed to last an eternity. Wait, rewind, I keep losing my train of thought.

Ugh, with the no sleep, it's like my realities and my dreams become one and the same. Unintelligable to the untrained mind (read: me), do therr'd nothing I can do about it.

Ok, I'm starting to have to hit the backspace button one too many times (read: drunk), so that's when I know I need to stop blahgging. Take two drinks. A couple pills. Repeat. (read: good luck making sense of this invariable mess of thoughts).

On another point of messed up thoughts...wondering about that girl that talks to him, daily, it seems...and the one that used to be in his life who I hate...am I crazy? Or just a girl? I'd like to say it's just cause I'm a girl, but that's just an excuse. Who knows why I get the paranoid, schizo feelings, but I do. And it sucks. And the not sleeping doesn't help my rational thinking either. There's always the possibility of cheating. Note: cheating isn't always physical. It can be emotional as well. And secrets? Well, let's just say they fan the fire. Take two drinks. A couple of pills. Repeat.

Oh me oh my

So I've come to the conclusion that I am completely insane and I should be admitted. One padded room with a view please. And a fashion designer polka dotted straight jacket. Yes, I believe that would do me right.

I always wonder if people that are in institutions are there because they need it, or simply to get away from...shit. You know, the shit everyday that happens. Hmmm, something to think about. Whatever. My whole point is that it would be nice...a padded room. Don't forget the view.

The good thing about my crazy little phase is that I'm losing weight. Add the not being able to eat anymore to 7 hours of lifting and moving anywhere from 20 to 1,000 boxes and you've got looser pants, smaller boobs and less fat all around. Silver lining, right?

Oh, and to add to my insanity...I'm back to not sleeping again. Yes folks, incredibly grumpy girl is back. When you can't sleep, time seems to slow down and speed up all at the same time. Everytime you glance at the clock it seems to be the same time as it was 15 minutes prior...but then if you do finally fall into a semi kinda sleep, next thing you know, it's time to get up. No food, no sleep makes Mal a grumpy girl. An incredibly grumpy girl. Meh, I've gone through this before. After a fews I won't even miss the sleep. And I'm pretty much used to the no eating. Not that I'm intentionally trying to starve myself. I still eat. Just not as much as I used to. The stress and depression I've been under lately basically fills my stomach with knots...no room for food. And on days like this, where I just consistently work to get all my stuff done, I skip lunch so that I can just leave earlier. I haven't eaten today yet. I opted to blog instead of food and a shower. That'll come later.

::sigh:: I'm starting to babble. Surreality is starting to set in. Another side effect of the no sleeping. Two drinks. A couple of pills. Repeat.

My week...you know, in a nutshell

My week...you know, in a nutshell
Monday: Work at 5:00 am...no, that's not a typo, FIVE A.M. 920 boxes later, I pretty much wanted to die.

Tuesday: Thinking my karma would be good because I returned a lost wallet full of cash that was left behind would be wrong...some dipshit asshole stole my favorite purse from my car. My car that was in my driveway. Granted, it was empty, but that's not the point. My car was violated.

Wednesday: Work at 6:00 am...ick.

Thursday: Don't remember much. It's that lack of sleep.

Friday: Realized that not only was my favorite pursed ripped from the gut of my car, but my cd's were gone too. Seriously, all of them. I had worked hard to try to build up my collection since the last time my cd's got stolen. If there is a god, he hates me. Or karma does. Oh, and how could I forget the once again amazingly, absolutely bitchin' booty I got...ya, I have the right to brag!

Drink a couple of beers. Two pills. Repeat.

My tongue...it's magic

Ok, so this blahg has absolutely nothing to do with my tongue...I just happened to say that exact thing to my weasel and thought it appropriate to use as my subject. So now onto more pressing matters.

Not really that pressing, but I am tired. My job is hard. But I like it. Just like I like other hard things...ok, maybe I should stop right there.

It's pretty obvious what my mind is on. And contrary to popular belief, girls can't let it go. I'm pretty sure that if I had balls, they'd be blue right now. Hey, it happens.

And I'll stop right there because I know my dad and my sister read this and if I go any further, they'll have nightmares for months.

More later when my mind isn't so one tracked.

Those things we do...

Here is my life lately...in a nutshell:

1. New job...I like it, but it's damn hard and I'm pretty sure I lost 10 lbs. in sweat alone today...unloading 435 boxes from a huge, HOT truck.

2. My new car...well, new to me...is now out of commission...no money to fix it. Stupid starter, cullinoid or altenator...whatever it is.

3. My glasses broke. Stupid Costco. Luckily I still have my old ones.

When I first started making this list, I was pretty sure I had more to say about what's going on, but I'm so damn tired that I can't even think anymore. Who knows, the things I wanted to say probably weren't even that important. Meh. I'm done. At least for today. I'm sure anything I do, say and/or write will be sub par unless it's a weekend and I didn't have to work.

I guess we'll see. No longer a chatty cathy.

It's off to work I go

I started my new job at Michaels' on Thursday. I had one and a half days to be trained. Ya, that was real fun. So now on Monday, I'll be left to fend for myself.

The job? Well, the official title is "Product Flow Coordinator". Which in my dirty birdy mind, means something funny. Unofficially, I'm the receiver. Which entails me to lift and move heavy, big and sometimes awkward boxes around and off the delivery trucks, and scan them and check them to go out on the floor. The one and half day of doing that pretty much made me feel as though I'd done 2 straight days of step aerobics.

I'm sore. And it doesn't help that I had a bunch of amazingly hot mind blowing sex last night. Sorry, I just had to put that in, cause well, it was THAT good. And I have to brag. Not need to brag...HAVE to brag.

But I digress. I think I'm going to like my job. Not only is it my favorite store, I get a discount. Hell ya. Projects galore!

Oh, and not to mention the money. Considering I need to pay my phone bill. Currently I can only recieve calls...and who knows how long that will last. Damn being a broke ass bitch. Though I won't be getting paid much. When I told my weasel how much I'd be making, he said "that's cute!" Yeah, my new salary is cute. Like first job 16 year old cute. Eh, I wasn't expecting much. I mean, they will work with my schedule once I start school in November. So it will all work out.

Speaking of November, I've really been craving a Thanksgiving dinner. But like now. Not on the official holiday. I don't know why. But I just really want to make a turkey with all the fixins'.

Weird. Well, I have to go now. There is some interesting cartoons on now. It's funny how I never watch network tv, what with my 200 some odd channels my cable gives me. My weasel REALLY needs to get cable. I mean really. Dazed isn't really the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Out of the mouths of babes

"Mom, I probably like weiners more than you do!"-the genius

Let's hope not son.

Disclaimer: Not that it would really be THAT big a deal. I'm just sayin'.

The ocean was blue as balls

It's Wednesday afternoon. I've had 4-5 beers, it's hard to tell. And I'm kinda drunk. Who knew being a stay at home mom could be so much fun!

Conversations of drunk bitches:
"Look at his balls and tell me what you think they look like."

"No, I don't want to look at his balls! That's gross! Why do you always make me look at his balls?!"

"Just look at them and tell me what food they look like. And if you don't see it, when I tell you, you'll totally get it!"

"Ugh, ok, let me see his balls!"

*Pause for dramatic effect*

"I don't see it. Just tell me what food his balls look like."

"They totally look like a kiwi!"

"Oh my gawd! They totally do!"

By the way, we're talking about Charlie Mops' the dogs balls...not an actual human, in case you were wondering. Wow, the shit you talk about when inebriated.

One of those photo things.

Here are some pictures taken recently. The bro-in-law says my blogs are boring, ONLY because I don't usually do much with pictures. So here you go.

Here is a clear pic of my ::tear:: car after the accident.

Here it is from the inside. Ouchie.

The princess...of cheese!

The irexican. 10 points if you know what I'm talking about!

We put on a pretty bitchin' awards show!

Ya, that's right! Shut up and rock!

This is seriously the biggest pizza...EVER!

My weasel...looking into the light.

My weasel in the black...he's hot! Oh, and the other one...he's just gay.

Oh, and last but not least, my celebrity lookalikes. I stole this from my sister. It's pretty funny that I got some guys in there. Damn. But my number one look-a-like is Gisele Bundchen?! bahahahahaha That is pretty much the funniest thing I've ever heard. Enjoy.

Oh what a night

So I succesfully hosted AxZxRxDx's 3rd annual Fatal Femmes Awards on saturday night. And I have the corset bruises to show it. Damn corsets. But it was fun. Everyone had a good time, which was the main point of it all. So I'm pretty happy with myself about that. I don't have any pics yet, but the second I get them, ya'll will be the first to see them. I realized today that I didn't sit down the entire night. Part of the reason being that the corset pretty much restricted any sort of sitting movement...but also part running around in full hostess mode. Running up on stage to announce the next band...running around to chat up everyone and make sure they were having a good time...running up on stage to announce the awards. Whew, I'm getting tired again just thinking about it.

On another note, when I took the princess to school today, we happened to arrive at the same time as her "best friend" Lily. I politely said hello to her and her mom, who, when she looked up at me, was pretty taken aback that I could be the princess' mom. The princess being California tan, light brown hair, big green eyes, tall, thin, cute as a button. Me being short, fat, tattooed, blue black hair, pierced. Ya, it's pretty safe to say that I get plenty of stares at that school. Not only am I pretty much one of the youngest moms there, I also look the way I do. But seeing Lily's moms reaction was funny. It'll be interesting to see how she reacts on a day when the princess wants Lilly over for a play date and her mom sees how "normal" my house is. It's just all a big laugh. I have to laugh about it otherwise I'd probably be even more bitchy than I am.

Speaking of bitchy, I picked up the princess' dog brownie from her grandpa's place, cause, well, he doesn't like the pooch and doesn't take very good care of him and since the ex moved to an apartment he can't have the dog at yet, I thought I'd watch him for a while. Why not. So I bring him home and pretty much the first thing he does is piss. In my room. Most of which got on the bedskirt. Seriously, I think I'm cursed when it comes to animals. They could be completely house broken, but bring them over to my place and they'll piss all over the place. It's real fun. After I took brownie home and watched him chase the little schitzu bitches around and scare them, I came to the sisters' place to blog and basically just use her for her stuff. And not even 15 minutes after I get here, she gets a flat tire. So I had to help her jack the van and get the tire off. Needless to say I hurt myself quite a few times. You know me, clumsy as an ox.

Well, that's pretty much it for me for now. It feels weird to blahg again, being that I haven't done it in forever. Oh, one more thing. I got a job. At Michael's! That is only my favorite store ever and I go there, when I have money, at least a few times a week. So we'll see how that goes. And they'll work around my schedule when I start school, November 7, so that'll be good. It will be hard however to get used to working again and not being a stay at home mom. Eh, shouldn't be a problem, it was nice while it lasted though.

Fuckin pointer finger

I seriously just wrote a long ass blahg about my upcoming trip...missing my weasel...laundry...fuckin mailmen...poison letters...first days of school...crying...and a bunch of other stuff...and I. JUST. HIT. THE. CANCEL. BUTTON. What the fuck. I hadn't even copied it like I norally do to post on blogger. Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

I'm tired. And probably grumpy. It's hard to tell.

Here are 2 pictures I posted...you'll have to pretend that I just wrote about them.

Alzheimer's isn't the right affliction, but it's the first that comes to mind.

The awesomeness of it all...or lack there of

So for once, I don't actually have anything to really talk about. Which is surprising considering the fact that I haven't blahgged in like, a week or so...hmmmm.

Well, one update. The genius got glasses. He didn't want them at first because he said he didn't want to be a nerd. Even though his cool as shit mom wears them. But the second he put them on he was excited at being able to actually see. Even though he'd been profusely refusing the fact that he had a seeing problem at all. The glasses he picked out are, in my humble opinion, not as cool as the ones I wanted him to get, but eh, I guess he's actually at that age where my influence isn't really worth anything. Damn they grow up fast.

Speaking of growing up fast. The princess starts school Monday. Yup. And she's terrified, as she so succintly exclaimed in her new classroom when we were there for open house. She's worried that the boys are going to chase her and want to be her boyfriends. My, she's got an ego on her. Wonder where she gets it from? And I think her having a boyfriend would cause problems since she already has a boyfriend, she told me this week, that she shares with the twins at the babysitters.

The twins. They are probably the skeaziest little girls she knows. Seriously. The dances she shows me on an almost daily basis that the twins taught her make Britney Spears look like Marie Osmond. I make her promise to never do those dances again...at least until I tell her to show someone so that we can laugh. I know, best mom of the year, right?

But I digress. She's starting school soon, and I already know the waterworks are going to be flowing. Shit, I cry when I take the genius for the first day of school and he's going to be in the 4th grade. I have a feeling I'll cry when I take them to the first day of senior year! See also: cry baby. See also: waterfall.

Life...or something like it

Today I spent the majority of it in a car. I hate driving. When we finally got home, I metioned my fiery passion hatred for driving and my mom responded with a typical mom-answer, "And you were in such a hurry to drive when you were younger! haha"

Or, how about I wasn't really. I refused to drive and get my license and only did so on account of being threatened to have to quit my job at Pizza Hut if I didn't stop acting like a baby and just get my "fucking license."

So I did, and now. Now I'm spending days driving all over the valley. But tomorrow...tomorrow will be better. She goes back to work. Ah. How do you spell relief? W-o-r-k. For her at least.

And speaking of which, today was a weird, rantalicious driving day. This morning on my way back home from picking up the kiddos from their dad's, I was heading North on Price Rd., when I noticed something very strange. On the two lane, one-way road, I was in the right lane, and in the left lane, heading the complete opposite direction, was an old lady. Nonchalantly driving the wrong way. (how many more times can I say "way"?) I didn't really know what to do. So I just kept on going. Watching, of course, in my rear view to see what would happen. Weird.

Then, going home, finally, there was this bitch just sitting in the lane that I needed to turn into to get home. There's construction going on and lanes are blocked off, so you can only turn right out of it, and there's one lane blocked so you can go down into my neighborhood (I know I'm not describing this very good, but bear with me). If you're headed South, there are TWO signs that say no left turns. So I was headed East and had to turn left to go North, into the only lane open for such a thing, and there she was, just sitting there, waiting to turn left. When clearly, previously said TWO signs indicated that there was no left turns. So I had to sit and wait for a whole other light cycle to turn. Stupid people shouldn't be allowed to drive.

Well, now that I've surely confused everyone with my cornucopia of words, I should probably go home now. It's time to pick up the Queen's vicodin...maybe then she'll pass out and I'll have the night to spend with my weasel in peace and quiet. Oh, and I'm going to change my name...but shhh, nobody tell her. So when she calls out "MAL!!" every 15 minutes, I won't answer cause that won't be my name anymore. Ya. Sounds good. Mental retardation isn't the right sickness, but it's the first that comes to mind.

I know, I know, I'm a commodity

I've gone through my blahging withdrawals quite well. At least the shaking has stopped. So I thought I'd drop by for a quick hello...you know, for just a small fix. It should tide me over for at least a couple of days.

Just a qiuck update, my daddy came into town this weekend and I got to see him and my stepmom for a little bit this morning. It was nice. And he still looks exactly the same...just a little older. But now they're back on their way to El Paso, my home town.

My mom's doing better. Hobbling around with her walker, right foot laden with a purple cast. Since she can't drive though, guess who gets to be her chauffer. Me. It's not too bad though, as much as I bitch about it. The thing that does suck though is sitting in waiting rooms for hours at a time. That's mos def no fun. But we'll get through it. Just another hurdle to jump over.

Hmmmm, what else. I know I'm missing some stuff, but it's really stuff that needs to blahgged about all alone. You know me, I can go on and on and on and on and...well, you get the picture.

So off I go to do...whatever it is I do now. Ahh, this fix was a good one. Junkie isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Whoa is really all I can say

My mom's doing better now. She's got a slave...and by slave, I mean me. But really, she's good. She even got in and out of a bath all on her own...without further hurting herself. I went to the tow yard yesterday to pick up my belongings and boy was I surprised at how she even survived the wreck. The entire front is CHARRED. And so smushed up that I didn't even recognize it at first.

The insurance company sent someone out to inspect it today and they have concluded that it is indeed, totalled. Ya, a monkey could have told you that...in fact, I told them that. So now we have to wait for the adjuster to call and let us know what our settlement will be. Good thing we have insurance...bad thing the other guy didn't.

Now I have to search for a new, cheap car. Everyone cross your fingers and hope that I don't end up with a jollopy.

I know I've said this before, but I. NEVER. WANT. TO. DRINK. AGAIN!It was ladies 2 for 1 liquor night at Septembers' last night...ya, me plus that equals a bad idea. I even cried at the bar last night as I was recapping the past couple weeks to some friends I hadn't seen for a while. I was THAT girl. And not to mention this morning as I bolted out of bed and barely made it to the toilet as I vomitted red cranberry vodka and jager bombers. Ick. And again and again and again. Two of the times in which I peed. I swear, I never make it in time to pee first, then vomit. No. I always make it in time to vomit and then pee myself. Ick. I don't even know why I feel the need to share this with the internet. But eh, I think like 5 of you read this, so it's ok.

Extremely hot day, bossy mom and worse hangover EVER made for an interesting day, to say the least.

Tiny man with the hammer pounding in my head, go away!

No longer waiting for the 2nd shoe to drop

A funny thing happened on the way home from work today. At least for my mom. As she was turning east onto Rio Salado from McClintock, some asshole ran the red light and smashed into her. She was driving my car...it spun out of control...the engine caught on fire...the driver jumped out of the car and ran.

So, she's ok. For now, she's in the hospital with a fractured ankle, not to mention pretty bruised and shaken up. And a bit morphined up, since she's in a lot of pain.

Once the car stopped spinning, it stopped, but then the engine caught on fire and she was having trouble getting out of the car. A woman appeared and helped her out to safety. The asshole ran, but some bystanders ran after him, tackled him to the ground and restrained him til the cops got there. He had no license, no insurance and it wasn't even his car.

I was on the phone with an old friend with whom I hadn't spoken with for months. My mom called on the other line and I ignored it figuring she was just calling to tell me she was on her way home or something less important (I'm an asshole...I know this). I got off the phone with my friend and called my weasel beacause he had called me first. While trying to figure out whether I was to stay with him or him with me, my mom rang in on the other line again. I figured I'd answer since it might be important.

"Hellooooooo!!"
*man's voice* "Can I speak with Mal?"
*confused* "This is her."
"This is officer so and so from the Tempe police department."
"OH MY GAWD!! OH MY GAWD!! WHAT HAPPENE??!!"
"She's allright, but your mom's been in an accident. The ambulance is taking her to Scottsdale hospital."

Then just a bunch of blah blah blah because by that time I couldn't hear what he was saying and I was hurrying to get dressed. Needless to say I was pretty freaked.

Currently she's in the hospital and she's doing good, considering. We'll bring her home tomorrow. But not before I go see what's left of my car and gather my shit that was in there, like my skates, etc. The cop said they couldn't even close the doors and the windows are all shattered.

When it rains, it pours. That's for damn sure.

Rip out my uterus and call me Sally

My head pretty much feels like it's going to explode. I think I'm getting a sinus infection. You know, I didn't even have allergies until I moved to hell...I mean Arizona. And now?! I have them...BAD. So right now, I can feel the pressure building up...like my head's going to float right up and then BOOM explode, just like that. I want to die.

As if feeling like I want to decapitate myself wasn't bad enough, I started my period today. So I also would like to rip out my uterus. Please. Who can do this for me?

Pretty much the only thing I like about being a girl is the fact that if I want something, all I have to do is my signature pouty face, and POOF, just like that...don't get me wrong, it doesn't work very often, but it does, on occasion, bring me what I so desire. And the boobs. Well, the boobs help with shit like that as well. Especially when the guy is too busy staring at my rack that he gives me back more change than needed...the list could go on. But that's it. Having the "curse" on a monthly basis sucks as much as Jenny (rubbernecker) who was the school blow job Betty...and that, my friends, is a whole hell of a lot. Ya, I said it, what are you gonna do about it.

So now I'm off to be grumpy while curled in the fetal position, sobbing softly as I watch a Lifetime movie.

Round and round we go

It seems as though we're not going to move...at least not just yet. It's funny because my mom always comments on me being so laid back and how I should worry about things more, but if I wasn't so laid back, especially around her, I'd probably shoot myself. The woman, though a great mom, is insanely spontaneous and has an energy about her that just makes you crazy. Spend ten minutes with her and your heart will beat faster and you'll feel the worst anxiety of your life...especially if she's stressed.

So for now, we're going to stay in the shot up house. At least until she gets another wild hair up her ass and decides we need to move.

Why do I still live with her, you might ask? Because of her, I'm going to be able to attend school and work only part time. So that's why. I'll live I guess. I have my sister to help me as she is our mom's voice of reason. Family...a four letter word?

Shot through the heart

So, this week, my second week of unemployment by the way, has been...crazy. As always, my life is never boring. Wednesday night, as my weasel and I were getting ready to go see Pirates of the Carribean, we heard a POP, some glass shatter and the screams of my mom and grandma. I had thought maybe one of them dropped something, and they're both screamers, so that wasn't surprising. As we walked out of my bedroom, I looked out the door into the living room and saw my grandma on the floor and my mom about to drop...confused, I walked out of my room to see what happened. My mom started screaming for me to call 911...between mumbles of "we got shot at" and "get down! get down!", I grabbed my phone. I was confused, to say the least. My weasel, always the prepared boyscout, had his gun at the ready, in case...well, anything else happened. It seemed as though it were a drive-by or a misdirected shot from the street. We're still not sure at this point. The police came, paramedics, even a ghetto bird. My grandma had been sitting on the armchair RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. THE. WINDOW. She had a slight hemotoma or something like that on the back of her head, but other than that, she was ok. No one else was harmed, and thankfully the princess was in my room watching a movie.

Needless to say, it was a pretty interesting night. My mom decided right then and there that we were moving...AGAIN. We've been in this house for about a month and a half. Shit. Fuck. Gawddamnit.

The plan was to move this weekend...but with the help of my sister and my laidbackness, we're going to wait. At least til the end of the month.

Let the search begin.

I've done a lot of crying this week. At first I thought maybe it was because I'm piamessing, but I've realized that lately when I'm stressed, I hold it in. So I feel a little better now. I had Kendra take me out last night and I got drunk. I think it was a little much needed drunkenness. Sometimes a girl just needs to get wasted and drunk dial her boyfriend in the middle of the night when he's sleeping. Hooray for alcohol.

Cheers!!

Disclaimer: Pardon the cheesy randomness of this blahg today. I'm still reeling from the gunshot, crazy mom, hangover madness and my writing is, in my opinion, not to par. But that's just how I roll.

Like funny ha-ha or funny sad?

Wow, it seems as though I've been out of step with the world lately...you know, having not blahged in about a week or so. It's funny how addicted I was (am) to blahging. I mean, after the shakes and constant sweating died down, I was ok. But the tossing and turning with the thoughts that you lovely readers weren't able to read about the daily actions in my inane life certainly kept me up at night. Really.

A lot has happened since last I blahged. Most recently, my grandma, whom is inflicted with the fun disease of alzheimers, has come to live with us. It's sad, but interesting at the same time. Just watching her do stuff and hearing her talk. It's sometimes like funny ha-ha but sometimes funny sad. Well, at least now we can keep a closer eye on her.

I should probably get on with my day...being as I've actually got stuff to do. You would think that being unemployed would allow me some time to just loaf around and sleep all day...but no, not for me. I've been pretty busy every. single. day. No rest for the wicked I guess.

Take this job and shove it

Today is my last day at Catholic Charities...notice my gratuitous use of my company name in my blahgs the last few times I've talked about it? Ya, that's mainly because, what are they gonna do, fire me?! heh I don't think so. But it was nice. My supervisor bought me a cake and a card signed by a bunch of my co-workers...in which it brought back memories of stuff written in my high school yearbooks. Which basically means, my supervisor figured out, that I haven't changed much since then. Just a little older, more sarcastic and with children. Yup, not much has changed though. To my last day here! Salut!

On a more nervous note, I will be making my way to Cave Creek today to meet the parents...otherwise known as the weasel's mom and pop. I know I shouldn't be nervous, especially since it's just his mom and stepdad and not my 20 family members...and that's just the ones that live in Arizona. No, I just have to meet two people. And he assures me that it'll be fine, and I'm sure it will be...but I can't help feeling nervous nonetheless. Nothing a little shot of my good ol' buddy Jack Daniels can't take care of.

Thursday retarded fun time

I usually save this kind of shit for my myspace bulletins, but, well, it seems as though this is a typical blahgger thing...at least from what I've heard but just didn't really know what it was...but my sister did one, so of course I had to do it too...monkey see monkey do. And I guess you're supposed to be tagged to do a meme, and then tag someone when you're done, but the sister, for some reason, didn't deem it necessary to tag anyone...and by anyone, I mean me. And I'm not going to tag anyone since I think maybe only 3 people read my blahg...and two of them are related to me. Ok, so after that unnecessarily long explanation, here's my first meme:

Instructions:

1. Go to Wikipedia
2. In the search box, type your birth month and day (but not year)
3. List three events that happened on your birthday
4. List two important birthdays and one interesting death
5. One holiday or observance (if any)

Events:

1968 - The TV sketch comedy Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In debuts on NBC. (one of my faves...I used to watch it with my dad)

1973 - The Supreme Court of the United States delivers its decision in Roe v. Wade striking down state laws restricting abortion during the first six months of pregnancy. (I don't really care if you like this one or not, but in my opinion, a very important event)
1905 - Bloody Sunday in St. Petersburg, beginning of the 1905 revolution.

Births:

1959 - Linda Blair, American actress
1965 - DJ Jazzy Jeff, American rapper and actor (in my opinion, these are two VERY important births)

Death:

1978 - Herbert Sutcliffe, English cricketer (b. 1894) (gotta love cricket)

Holiday:

Catholicism - Feast day of St. Vincent

I think I got jipped on the holiday thing. I mean, Feast day of a saint is not very exciting. At least not in my book.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On another note, a few of my favorite co-workers gave me a goodbye card along with a westcor mall gift card. Fuck yeah. I loves me some shopping! And I think I'll do just that. Although, I've been thinking about what I want to buy myself, and i've decided that I should buy a little something for the kiddos too. Even though they consume every single nickel and dime I make...but I'm not bitter. We'll see I guess. Though I do need a new bra. Those Victoria's Secrets bras just don't hold the girls' up as well anymore. Darn my mother for giving me such an ample chest. It's not fun...really, it's not. I never understood why some women choose to go so big in implants. They get in the way...clothes don't fit right...not to mention the back pain...oh, and the shoulder pain from the bra straps digging into them. ::sigh:: The grass is always greener I guess.

Now that I've bored you with useless facts and the details of my undergarments, I guess I should be getting back to work. Considering I only have a day left, I guess I can squeeze in at least an hour of ACTUAL work.

I'm so evil you could call me the de-ville

Three days left of work. The countdown has begun! And today, I fenagled my way to get off early...and the rest of the week to only work from 8am-12. I guess my sister was right...the squeaky wheel does get the oil...and by that I mean my incessant complaining about having to be there and such got me what I wanted. Perfect isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Lies, bikes and sore asses

I've had a long and interesting weekend...today, being Monday and the fact that I'm super sleepy and don't want to be here, you could say I have a case of the "Monday's". Today is also the first day of my last week here at Catholic Charities. Yes, that's where I work (for now) and no, I myself am not Catholic. But I digress. Back to my weekend.

It started with Friday and calling in sick...not because I was sick, but because I simply did not want to go to work. Call it lastdayitis. It's a disease, I just can't seem to kick. So I went to hang out with my sister. The genius and I were lonely and bored, since the princess had left us...he with no one to fight with and me with no rage in the cage-esque fights to break up. So we headed out. After helping Nila feng shui up her room, we decided to head out to the Mesa Thrift store...bad idea. I'm walking around, a little out of "sorts" when I turned a corner and there it was...the bitchinest bike I'd ever seen. So I had to have it...one trip to the atm machine later, she was mine...here she is in all her glory...

Oh so pretty and oh so big pimpin'. I just need to put some air in her front tire and I'm good to go.

Later that night I found myself in Phoenix. At the weasel bar. Which was pretty bitchin'. At least what I remembered of it...because let's just say that my memory wasn't much help Saturday morning as I woke up with the mother of all hangovers...well, I guess I can't really call it a hangover, being that I was pretty sure I was still drunk when I woke up. Nothing a little booty, sleep and water couldn't fix though.

After I made my way home, I sat on my bed half conscious trying to muster up the energy to get ready for the impending bike run I was to go on with the weasel. The princess came home and we spent some time together. Then it was off to North Phoenix...the run was fun...tiring...but fun nonetheless. There were some tiny setbacks, but nothing too harming. Needless to say, being that it was my first time riding that long on the harley, my ass hurts...and so does my back...I guess I need more practice. *hint, hint*

So to end my weekend, I thought I'd toss the atheistic nonsense and begin my quest to find God...oh wait, I just totally lied to you. I'm not tossing my atheistic nonsense...but I did go to church. And surprisingly enough, I didn't burst into flames as often thought. It's funny how the last time I went to church was two years ago for my little sisters' quincenera two years ago, but I never lose that obligatory church etiquette. For instance, the sacrament. I always take it...even though, considering I haven't been to confession since I was 14 and refused to even go to church anymore and I don't believe in God, it's still ingrained in my mind...you go to mass, you take the sacrament. It was weird. Not to mention the fact that I had to meet my mom et al there, but the place was so packed when I got there I couldn't find anyone, so I had to sit at the back all by my lonesome. And when it came time for the song that you stand and hold hands with your neighbor, all I could think was where those old men's hands' had been. It took all I could to keep from rushing off to wash my hands! *shiver* Germs germs go away, never come back another day.

So that was my weekend. And now I'm tired, sore and probably have a first class ticket to hell for taking the sacrament. Old habits die hard, that's for sure.

Disclaimer: being that I don't believe in all that jazz, I also do not believe in hell, but it's a lot more fun to say I'm going to hell. Not to mention the fact that it really freaks my mom out when I say that. What can I say, I like to have fun.

She's flown the coup

The princess left me yesterday. On what is her first trip alone...and by alone, I mean no parents and/or genius. She went with my moms and aunt to my uncle's funeral in California. All by herself! She was so excited. Here's her saying goodbye to me before they left. ::tear::

***********

The genius has decided and told me, that when he's old enough he's going to get a tattoo like his dad's. And in the same spot. It's a shamrock with flames and a banner that says his last name on it...he started asking me all these questions on whether tattoos hurt, which I thought was weird because as much as he likes putting on the fake tats, he's the more conservative one of the family and had expressed not wanting to get any. So now he wants one. ::tear:: They just grow up so fast.

Ok, before I start crying about the kiddos getting older and bigger, I'll change the subject. Though to what, I don't know. It's pretty early in the morning and now that I've written five sentences, I'm beat. Time to go back to bed...oh wait, time to actually work...being that I've been here for about an hour and haven't done jack shit. Sloth isn't the right sin, but it's the first that comes to mind.

A picture is worth a thousand words

So, I started a flickr account...upon the insistance of my lovely sister, so that I could have all my pics in one easily accesible place. But really, she should get paid for all the word of mouth business she gives them...and anything else she likes. But that's Nila for ya, if she's happy with something, she wants everyone to be just as happy with it. Gawd love her.

But I digress. I posted some pics to my flickr account and have set them for public view. This pic right here,

,

has received 41 viewings last time I checked...and I just put together this account about 2 days ago. But it's just this pic that's been viewed so many times! Not the ones of me and Gina in a bathtub...or the ones of me, Gina and Andy in the bathtub...boobs and all...no, the one where it looks like I'm peeing on the beach! Go figure. I guess there are more people out there for laughs than there are pervs. Good thing.

But really, I'm having fun with the whole thing. Nila keeps bringing me deeper and deeper into the whole blahgging world. Beyond myspace. Vortex isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

So the boy walks into his mom's office and says...

"What does alienated mean?"

"It means like, feeling left out, or something..."

"Oh, I thought it meant that you wanted to be an alien."

Oh, the disappointment in his voice. I have one crazy son, that's for damn sure.

Back to normal...whatever that is

So, my aunt's in town...she's helping my mom cope. But other than that, I think things are going to be ok. Oh, and there was another death in our family. My dad's older sister died on Friday...it's weird how that worked. I hope what Nila says about the myth of it "happening in three's" isn't true...I don't think I could handle another death.

I'm tired. Hmmmm, there's pretty much nothing for me to talk about. Well, I'm sure there is, but my tired mind just can't think of anything. ::sigh::

Sadness reigns the land

My uncle died last night. 8:15pm. No more summers. No more little surprises found on the side of the highway. No more cupcake. No more well meaning advice. No more anything. He will be missed. Dearly.

I spent every single summer with him and his family for about 6 or 7 years. Everyday that I was there he made sure that I was going to have something to do. That my cousins were going to be nice to me. That I had enough of my favorite treats to last me through the day. He came home everyday after work with baubles, toys, treats for me that he found on the side of the highway.

I went with my mom to tell my grandma the bad news. She screamed. Threw her arms up in utter despair. Broke down in tears and went limp as I wrapped my arms around her. I never felt such pain.

It's off to California on Sunday. Sadness prevails...even though he no longer feels the pain.

Random thoughts...just try and sort them out...I dare you

Last night after work, I went home, ate and passed the fuck out. I know I slept good, cause when I woke up, my face was covered in drool. I always find that when I'm the most worn out, I have the weirdest dreams. For instance, last night I dreamt that I was at Rollercon, but it wasn't in Vegas and there weren't that many girls there. I don't want to get into too much detail or I'm lible to bore you all, but at one point, a little boy, about 2 years of age, fell into the pool and I jumped in, fully clothed, to save him. Once we were out of the pool, I wrapped him in a towel and was holding him and he kept getting smaller and smaller and ended up looking like just a little baby...as I carried him around, I searched for his parents, but they were no where to be found. I never did find the parents, but I woke up before anything else happened, so who knows. Then, I fell back asleep, and something about me having a huge egg and trying to crack it open...and when I finally did get it open, there was all this white furry stuff and glowy light and a baby inside. Hmmm, wonder what, if anything, that means. Weird.

It brought a tear to my eye yesterday as the princess and I left to go to our new house, she ran to the backyard and stared solemnly at the ground for about five minutes. She was saying goodbye to Thumper, our rabbit who's buried in the backyard of our old place. She was sad to leave him.

So now, we're fully in our new house, but it pretty much looks like Sears threw up all over it. I have a LONG next couple of days ahead of me, that's for sure. What with all the organizing of the house...not to mention the art I'm supposed to do for someone AND the invites I have to make for the Fighting Femmes Awards (FFA's), along with the flyers, posters and awards themselves. Whew, do I have a lot of shit to do or what?! Oh, and throw in the geniuses birthday party. I think I'll just do a simple bbq though. I wanted to get one of those bonsai slide things. But man, if that alone doesn't put a hole in your wallet. So it's probably a no go on that...but I still have to plan the thing...next month. Not to mention the other 3 b-days, all in succesion...first we have the genius on the 2nd, then Trav (bro-in-law) on the 3rd, Nila on the 4th and the ex on the 5th. Oh, then later in the month we have my dad, step-mom and e-dawg. July's a fun month for me, can you tell?

Take a deep breath, Mal. Ah, there. Now I've gots to get crackin! After work of course. Meh isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Calgon, take me away!

Every. Part. Of. My. Body. Hurts. I seriously feel like I've done a four hour workout complete with cardio and weights. With no break. Even my armpits hurt. I didn't know that was possible. And I'm pretty dead tired right now. Sitting at work. Starting to doze off. And, yes Nila, I know I can't possibly be as tired as you, but this is my blahg and I'll bitch if I want to. Though I do feel for my hermana since she worked last night and hadn't slept all day. So she wins the "who's more tired" contest. But that doesn't mean I'm not tired...ok, I think I'm starting to not make sense. Let's move on to the next subject.

Today I noticed that one of my posts had a comment from izzymom, a "big-time" blahgger, and this made me happy. Why, you ask, would a comment from a more established blogger make you happy? Truthfully, I don't really know. I used to think Nila was silly for getting excited when this happened, but now I know the feeling. Of course, I commented on one of her posts first, but it's the fact that she took the time to come to my blahg and read a post, then comment on it. Seriously, I believe this makes me a little nerdy. But Nila and I have been sucked into this little world of blahgging...we've even talked about attending the blogger convention next year. In my humble opinion, that would be rad. We'd get to meet the illustrious women of whose lives we've learned so much about...all through the internet. I know, I already told you I was a nerd.

Speaking of being nerdy, Nila told me she thought the weasel is too cool for me. Too cool for ME! Though I am a self proclaimed nerd and do NOT act, as the ex likes to say, like a bad ass. If the occasion calls for it, I will, in fact, shine through, but I am first and formost a nerd, and I am the first to admit it. But, the weasel is NOT too cool for me...it's just that nobody sees him around me when we're alone...it's like nerd city. Sidebar: I'll probably get grounded for posting that part about him being a nerd...maybe even banished to another country where I can't bust him out. Just so you know. So anyway, she thinks I'm goofy and says she never noticed it because the ex was goofier than me...real nice thing to say to your sister...I'm always saying what a MILF she is, and I get GOOFY! pshaw

I have about an hour and a half left of work...only to go home to put together a bunkbed and possibly have to move more stuff. Man, it never ends.

Just as an update on my uncle, he has been transported back to California. Back to his house, his garden, his life. Though it's hard to say how much longer that will be. Getting weaker by the day, I suspect there's not much time left. I was sad to see him go, but relieved at the same time. I know his kids missed him being home. And my mom and sis can take pride in the fact that we did make him feel as comfortable as possible and I think we made him pretty happy. Still, I was sad that I didn't get to say goodbye. They left early this morning as I was driving the kids to school, before it got too hot out, so I understand. But that may have been the last time I would get to see him.

It's probably time for me to not talk about that anymore...I can feel the tears burning to get out. I haven't cried much. I have to be strong for my mom. As much as it pains me to see her so sad and hurt, if I cry, she'll cry more, and I don't want that. But I pretty much feel like I'm going to explode any minute and flood the entire state of Arizona. Wouldn't that be something.

Oh those clumsy feet...they've struck again

You know, there are times when I think that there is no possible way that I can out-clumsy myself...but oh was I WRONG! This morning, after loading yet more shit in my car (sidebar:we have to be out of the old house by tomorrow, but that's an entirely different blog) the mom and I decided we'd take a little break with Nila at our favorite place, the Mesa Thrift Store. As I'm perusing the sporting goods section, I notice it...in the back buried behind 6 or 7 other bikes...a beach cruiser! I've been wanting one for I don't even remember how long. Not only did I find it, it was only $4.98! FOUR FUCKIN' DOLLARS and NINETY EIGHT CENTS! (sidebar 2: i realize there was no need for the excessive caps and use of the 'F' word, but I was THAT excited)So, I went to go put the rest of my stuff back since I only had about 5 bucks to spend and I HAD to have the bike...and as I stepped through the aisle, obviously starry eyed staring at my soon to be new bike, I tripped over another bike parked annoyingly in my way, and ate shit...hardcore. Landing on all fours, I made quite the ruckus, what with the grill clanging and the bike tumbling and me screaming. I landed, hard, on my knees on the tiled floor. I actually hit the floor so hard that it kind of knocked tears involuntarily out of my eyes...usually if I'm on all fours I'm wearing knee pads (get your minds out of the gutters dirty birdies) so the shock isn't that bad, but this was. So I jumped up as Nila came running, "What'd you do this time Mal?!" Ye of little faith Nila...biotch. BUT I am that clumsy, so I guess she's right in the query. "Oh nothing. I just tripped and fell. No big deal!" I proclaim as I brush myself off trying to keep from whining too much. People are looking, my face was probably red...then the princess knocks the lid off the grill and causes a tad bit more commotion. It was an exciting 5 minutes to say the least. Oh, by the grace of Mal.

Speaking of embarassing myself. At the start of a new relationshop, there are alwys things you DON'T do in front of or around each other. For instance, you don't poo in each other's bathrooms, you watch how and what you eat (mostly girls) and you don't fart. Fortunately, I wasn't the one that farted first. He was. But I kept holding it in. Then comes Friday. Watching movies. I started laughing so hard, it happened. But he didn't hear it. The genius happened to be sitting right by my ass...and made a face and started laughing. Darn kids, always busting me out. So ya, I've had an embarassing week.

I have discovered today that the little princess is a rocker chick, through and through. She refused to listen to Bob Marley's No woman, no cry...and didn't even want anything to do with NIN's Only me...she insisted on turning the radio to channel 4, which is 98 KUPD, and exclaimed, "Oh yeah!!" and pumped her fist in the air when a hard rock song came on...I don't even think I knew the artist and/or song. But she was pretty stoked on it, so that's what we listened to. Followed by White Zombie, at which she did a sort of small head bang. That girl...she's a ham. If only she'd been wearing her motorcycle boots and her Harley skirt, she would have been a mini version of...a rocker chick. (sorry, I'm too tired to think of anything clever...that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it)

I have decided that I hate the new chick they hired to replace me. She doesn't do anything right...at least not how I would do it. And she doesn't answer the phones right away. It seems dumb to be annoyed by that, but Binks knows what I'm talking about. You're supposed to answer the phone on the first ring unless you're already on another call...but she ALWAYS lets it ring 3 or 4 times before answering. Grrrr. Rage in the Cage isn't the right fight, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Misconceptions are an ex's best friend

Last night I had a long conversation with the ex. And not to go into too much detail, but the gist of it was that I am fake, I only want people to like me and I want to be loved by all and that I am ridiculous (as far as my 'about me' on myspace goes. But all that, while it upset me last night and sent me into a crying tizzy, I'm fine with that opinion of me. I know who I am...ok, maybe not EXACTLY who I am, but for the most part. I believe this thought process on his part to be the fact that I am not of similar moral, political or style standing as him. And that's fine. We don't have to be alike. So I will just blame the whole crying tizzy on the fact that I'd had a rough day, what with having to talk with the cousins about my uncle's comfort and well being in his last days (though we don't know for sure how many days exactly that will be). So I was already upset. Not to mention the fact that my boobs hurt like no other, and we all know what that means...THE CURSE is soon to arrive. THE CURSE that makes me cry at slim jim commercials...or any commercials for that matter. So yes, let's say it wasn't the convo with the ex, but a snowball of emotional baggaged that rolled down the hill.

Now with that said, onto more important, less taxing subjects. Um, *ahem*, this is kind of embarassing...cause with that said, I don't think I really have anything to talk about. I mean, according to the ex, the shit I write here is stupid and not valid...and here I am unable to validate my important thoughts to you, my loyal readers...all three of you. But seriously, if he even saw the amount of people that read my blahgs...at least on myspace cause here on the illustrious blogger, I can't tell how many hits I've gotten...he would be amazed. Because if what I have to say (apparently it's all made up) really is stupid and fake and not valid, then there are a whole fuck load of people that are just retarded for liking it (Disclaimer: I do not think you guys are retarded, that's the impression that I got from the pleasant convo of what he thinks of me and my blahg). The proof is in the cards, my friends.

Today, as I seached craigslist for a part-time job for a little moolah while I go to school, I ran across a position for freelance writers to review and interview bloggers! How bitchin' would that be?! So I HAD to send that post to Nila. I thought her and I would be perfect for us both. I mean, getting paid to not only READ blahgs, but interview the blahggers and write about it. There's only one word for that...RAD.

Well, it's time for me to fly the coup, so to speak. Works almost over (yes, I blahg at work...got a problem with that? heh) and I have to pee and set the coffee timer for tomorrow. And they say the fun never ends.

A rambling about absolutely nothing

"Yes, my mamas, but your language makes my ears turn red. Oh, mija, where did you ever learn such words? It wasn’t me, I’m sure. It had to be your mother." Stated in an e-mail from my dad this morning. I know my dad reads my blog, shit, I sent him the link, but I just can't seem to blah myself down. Because then that wouldn't be me, you know. Nila has to keep hers a bit clean, though she's not as "foul-mouthed" (as she puts it) as I am, but her christian, God fearing mother-in-law reads her blahg everyday. Though that would not deter me from any of my regular use of sailor language. Meh.

Speaking of e-mails: I come into work this morning...turn on my computer...as I'm waiting for outlook to finish loading, I notice an e-mail and the name looks oddly familiar. I can only see part of the name, and I'm wondering if it's from who I think it's from...But no, I think, it couldn't be. I haven't heard from him in years. Even the "I hope you're still alive" e-mails I randomly sent went unanswered. So FINALLY my computer is done loading, and I get the chance to glimpse the mystery e-mail...it IS from him...and all it says is "stupid". That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course I HAVE to reply to this. "I think I'm confused right now. Who's stupid?!" That was at about eight or so this morning...and no response as of yet. I'm sure I'll here nothing from him for another 3 years or so. Only time will tell. But I hate hate HATE getting shit like that because then I obssess over the meaning of the mystery e-mail...same goes with phone calls. If I get a call from an unknown number and there is no message left, I dwell on who it could have been for day. There is A LOT that bugs me and will send me into a high strung rant of sorts. Just ask my weasel, I went into one of those tirades last night. And trust me, it doesn't take much to get me started. OCD isn't the right disease, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Currently, this is my To Do List:
1. Plan derby awards party for this season (it's next month and we've done...not a whole lot)
2. Plan the geniuses' birthday party. He'll be 9. NINE! Ack! I can't believe I have a kid that old. AND not to mention the fact that he's going to be in the fourth grade this fall. FOURTH grade. Boy, how fast they grow.
3. Strangle the new chick...or at least smack her upside the head. I think that will suffice.
4. Strangle my boss' boss...love her to death, but she's bugging me right now

Maybe I'm just a tad grumpy right now. I'm tired, even though I didn't stay up late...go figure, I'm more tired now that I get sleep then when I was an insomniac. But it's almost time to go home. And my weasel just told me that he's getting a 1969 caddy with a chopped top and flame throwers on the exhaust...cause ya, we're that cool.

I'm not so sure I'm making much sense here, so I'll stop on that note...you know, the note that says I'm that cool. Home. The weekend. Excitement. Should be interesting to say the least.

And I thought today was going to be boring

Let's start off with this morning when the electricity went off. And I got to sit in my house with no a/c waiting for those bastards at SRP to come fix it. "Oh, someone will be there between 10:30 and 12:30 and everything should be good!" Ya, no one was there. At least I didn't have to come into work until one. So I come in and I have to sit at the front desk and cover for lunch. By the time it's time to go back to my "office" (p.s. I've been displaced since I'm leaving at the end of the month. I think it's called grounded) to finish the ever illustrious closing and opening of the files.

It's attack of the intern...he's there. I decided that I would just go chat with Shelley for an hour or so...I'm good at avoiding work like that.

Intern still there. I go to lunch. I'm not hungry so I made a trip to target to purchase some much needed shampoo and razors...when I moved, I had packed a box with my bathroom stuff, i.e. razor, shampoo, contacts, and the box has literally disappeared off the face of the earth. Not to be found at the new house, the old house or any of the cars. I think the shampoo started a revolution against their forced capture in a steamy bathroom.

I come back. Intern still there. I kick him out. After all, how does he expect me to surf the net for new blahgs and e-mail the weasel. I can't possibly do that if I don't have my own computer. Work schmork...I'm almost done here and they can kiss my ass. So I'll use my time wisely on the net.

Surfed a little, came up to the front again. Closing...again. Oh so tired. The second I get up here, there's a walk in client who had decided to wait for the counselor at the bar next door. Our lobby apparently wasn't good enough. Isn't it convenient for a mental health facility to be located next door to a bar? Drunk, barefoot and braless, she saunters around the office. Kind of haggard. Drunk. Session's over. Goes back to the bar to finagle some liquor out of some poor bastard. Supposed to be waiting for a team to come take her to a "safe place". She refuses to leave the bar. Someone bought her a beer. Heh.

Next up was a homeless couple. Smelly. I gagged...not very nice, but I cannot be held responsible for the actions of my sensitive sense of smell. We gave them a cupcake. Whew. And all that in about a 30 minute time frame. And I pretty much was able to sidestep doing any work whatsoever until 5 pm. That's my favorite kind of day. All the bigwigs are gone. Time to fuck around on the net...again.

There are times when I think I should not be so decorated, for lack of a better term, because I get a lot of unwanted attention. I know, I know, I'm asking for it right? Wrong. It's like telling me that wearing a short skirt and cleavage revealing shirt is me asking for rape. But I digress. I'm sitting at a stop light on my way back from target when I feel someone staring at me. I thought it might be because I was in the middle of rocking out, singing at the top of my lungs to NIN's head like a hole. And since my evil car still has no a/c, my windows were all down. I look over to my right and there's a lady in the next car looking at me and her lips are moving, but I couldn't hear her at all. I turn the music down. I hear the word color as she's pointing to her head. Oh, she's asking what color the red in my hair is...I refrain from a sarcastic "RED!" and tell her the color, dye brand and store you can get it at...I laughed.

Wow, this is a pretty long blahg, I just noticed, full of nothing but rambling. Ah, what can you do...I am, after all, a self proclaimed Ramble Queen. Among other things. Heh.

What normal people call HELL, I call home

*Note* This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but blogger was down for maintenance or something like that, so here you go...yesterday's news, today.

This whole me not having a working air conditioner in my car is just not working out. I think I'm going to have to break up with it...or give it an ultimatum...either it start making the a/c work on it's own, for free, or I'm out of this nothing-for-me relationship. I went to Wal*Mart on my lunch break. I needed one of those jump drive things...you know, for all the personal shit I do on my work computer...and the heat made me not in the mood to shop. ME. Not in the mood to shop. That doesn't happen very often. In fact, it RARELY happens. But there I was, done with my whitetrash/wetback shopping when I still had a whopping 45 minutes left on my lunch break. Where to go, what to do. I drove around for a few, trying to decide what exactly I could do. I thought about going and bugging Meemo, but she worked last night and was probably sleeping. So I did the next best thing to sisterly bonding...I went to the salon and got my eyebrows and lip done. And damn if my eyes didn't tear up when she ripped the wax strip off my upper lip. "No pain, no gain!" she says. Uh ya, thanks for that nugget of wisdom. But then her saying that reminded me of the other day when I was brushing the Princess' tangled, almost dreadlocked hair and she started to whine..."Beauty is pain Naia. Just remember that." I hate when I'm right. I was just saying that to calm her down. Why did I even succumb to the pain-in-the-ass world of waxing? Oh right, because Meemo paid for it the first time. Now I'm stuck going every two weeks so that I don't look like, well, ungroomed of course.


There I go off on a little rant again. I'll stop while I'm ahead. Or maybe this should just be "Rant Wednesday". And trust me, there is a lot to rant about today. For instance, on my way to Wal*Mart, there was an RV stopped at a stoplight...the light turns green. And does this RV move? No. It just sat there. As I sped past it ready to give the bird, I noticed there was no one in there! Now, here's what I don't understand...why would someone just LEAVE their RV like that? O.K., I understand it could have broken down, but any common sense person would leave the hazards on. Were the hazards left on to warn traffic of it's inability to do anything but sit there? No.


So on to Wal*Mart I go, cursing the RV fucktard. I find what I'm looking for and head to the electronics register...there were two chicks standing there talking to the peeps in the photo department, COMPLETELY IGNORING me. Just standing there...doing nothing. I really just wanted to say, "Hey, chatty Cathy's! Can one of you take the time from your busy gossip fest to ring up my ONE item?! Is that too much work for you? Is it that hard to move your fat asses the two feet to the register?!" but I kept my cool. ::Disclaimer:: I know that I too have a fat ass, but they're asses were way fatter than mine. And this in no way means that I have a discrimination against fat people. That would be like discriminating against Mexicans.


::sigh:: Looks like it's almost that time of month...again. You can tell when I rant about the most inane things. Ah, well praying mantis isn't the right insect, but it's the first that comes to mind. Maybe someone should warn my weasel. Heh.

AxZxRxDx's June Update-As written by Fred "Sweet Cheeks" Nutz

This isn't a usual post for me, but I figured, "What the hell!" I've been a member of Arizona's ORIGINAL roller derby league for 2 years now. Though I'm currently out on injury due to a possibly torn miniscus, I'll hopefully be skating and kicking ass again for the playoffs, pending a release from my doctor. So why don't I give you just a little background on this revival of a great sport. About two years ago, a couple of friends of mine had mentioned that roller derby was back and that we should check out a bout (game). I'm pretty easy going and up for any sort of adventure, so I thought it was a good idea...but we never followed through and I forgot about it. Then a couple months after that, the girls said we should join, so I said ok, and the next day I e-mailed the co-founder, gathered up all the girls I could and we formed the Bad News Beaters. And let's just say the rest is history. I love it and am dying to skate again. It's so hard to sit on the sidelines, especially when your own team is playing, and watch the other girls zoom around the track. So that's how I got started with roller derby.

June Update





Wooo hoooo! Its summer, yall! Time to enjoy lifes simpler pleasures. For example, I havent worn pants in weeks! Seriously. This update is being written half-naked! Ha HA: I L-U-V the summer!! No freakin pants. No freakin rules. Just me, my lap top, my cool drink with a novelty umbrella, and an uptight waitress that doesnt know the difference between freedom and perversion. Hey, Flo, instead of screaming about callin the cops, how about callin a doctor for an emergency pull-that-stick-out-of-your-ass-yoctomy. Shoooot, its summer, bee-yotch.



Oh well, on to the ladies. AZRD sent its travel team, the Tent City Terrors, to Denver to take on the Rocky Mountain Rollergirls Fight Club. Fight Club was tough, but our jailed birds were tougher, notching a win of 89 to 43. Once the blood and dust settled, Denver had proven they were worthy of their reputation as one of the best up-and-coming leagues in the nation. The general population of Denver, however, fell a bit short, constantly whining and sniveling: Hey thats my wallet! and, Please stop beating my boyfriend! and that was just from some dude who called himself the Snake.



On Saturday, June 10, the undefeated Bruisers will be taking on the Bad News Beaters in the last regular season bout of the year. The Bruisers have already clinched a spot in this years championship bout, but are ready to refine their bad-side manners against the Beaters. Those fabulous baseball furies, for their part, are prepared to knock the naughty nurses out of the park as they look ahead to next months play-off bout against the Surly Gurlies. The doors of the Castle Sports Complex will be opened at 7 and the action will start at 8. The bout will feature live music from TCT favorites, the Maricopa County Prison Band, and as always, reduce priced drinks at our after party at Big Daddys Sports Bar.



On June 23rd, AZRD will be out at Atomic Comics in Mesa to support their Fright Night with Calbrese and Zombeast. The event will feature classic horror flicks, a homemade zombie movie contest, a costume contest, and other horror related activities. Check the events section at www.atomiccomics.com for all the details.



Check back at the beginning of next month to find out how the ladies will be spending the rest of the summer, and for all the details about the 3rd season championship and playoffs. As for me, Ill see if I can manage motivating myself to put some pants on. No promises.





Revised rules:



After the initial delirium of watching scantily-clad-hotties skating to the death subsides, many spectators find themselves uttering the same phrase: So, uhhh, how do these chicks score? After smacking the friend that started giggling in the back of the head, these spectators often look inquisitively at their shrugging compatriots, then all take a deep gulp of their beers and happily return to the game with no knowledge of the rules. Well read on, oh bewildered masses, and we will turn your blissful ignorance into euphoric comprehension!

The game (bout) is divided into three, twenty minute periods. Each period is made-up of several two minute jams. The object of the jam is for a teams jammer to score more points than her opponent in two minutes. The winning team is the one that has scored the most points at the end of the third period.

There are ten players in play during an average jam (five from each team). When the girls line up for a jam, you will notice that there are eight girls standing well ahead of the back two. The eight in the front are called the pack, the two in the back are the jammers and are indicated by a star on their helmets. The jammer is the only member of the team that can score points; the packs job is to prevent the opposing jammers from doing so. The beginning of the jam is indicated by one whistle blast. This starts the pack skating and indicates that the two minute clock has started. This is followed by two whistle blasts that indicate the two jammers may start skating. The jammers have to pass (lap) the pack once before they can score. After lapping the pack once, the jammer scores one point per opponent she passes before the two minute jam has ended (indicated by four whistle blasts). The jammer may only score on an opponent once per pass.

There are some special circumstances that can change this basic structure and make me sound like a total liar. To defend my honor, I will talk about a few of those now.

A) A jammer must have both of her skates in-bounds to score on an opponent. B) On the first pass, the first jammer that makes it through the pack without intentionally stepping off the track or committing a foul is called the lead jammer. The lead has the power to stop the jam at any time before the two minutes has ended. She indicates that she wants to stop the jam early by placing both hands on her hips. If neither jammer passes the pack legally, there is no lead and the jam goes on for the full two minutes. C) The blocker at the front of the pack is called the pivot, and is indicated by a stripe on her helmet. After the first pass, the jammer can hand the cap on her helmet to the pivot, and the pivot becomes the only player on the team who can score (essentially becomes the jammer). Once the star cap is on the pivots helmet, she scores a point for each opponent she passes for the remainder of the jam. If a lead jammer passes the star, the pivot does not get lead status, and must jam for the full two minutes. D) Teams are occasionally forced to skate short for one of three reasons: 1) A skater was not on the track, for whatever reason, when the jam began. 2) A player has been ejected for receiving four minor penalties. Minor penalties include hitting from behind, intentionally stepping off the track, hitting girls with the forearms or elbows, and using straight arms to block. 3) A player has been ejected for receiving a major penalty. Major penalties include fighting, punching in the face, gouging out eyes and swift kicks to the kidneys. Skaters are ejected for one minute, essentially giving the opposing team a power play. When a player is absent for any of these reasons, the opposing jammer continues to score one point for the absent skater each time she passes the pack.

If a skater commits three of the same major penalties (12 minor penalties) over the course of the bout, she is ejected from the game. . .and will most likely be found in the beer garden.

Moving day...more like Hell day!

Seriously, pray for me. Today should be...interesting, to say the least. But you never know what will happen, that's for sure. My life is a sitcom...send over some cameras today, cause gawd knows there'll be some funny shit going on. Absolut craziness isn't the right phrase, but it's the first that comes to mind.

A list...by Mal Vicious

These are the things that really pissed me off today:

1. The night receptionist called in last minute today, so after having been at work for a half hour, I had to go back home, then come back to close.

2. When I asked to have tomorrow off so that I could move, she said no. What the fuck??!! Did I NOT just do her a favor by leaving and coming back so she wouldn't have to?!

3. This place in general. I can NOT wait to get the fuck out of here. And you better believe that I'm going to pull a Half Baked on their asses and someone is getting a cheeseburger chucked at their head. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, you cool...fuck you I'm out!" *chucks burger* (let's see how many times i can say "fuck" in this blog. like a game)

4. The retarded people that call here. And come here. And in general, the ones that just EXIST.

5. The replacement they hired for my position for when I leave. I just want to smack her upside the head sometimes. Is that wrong?

6. One of my wisdom teeth is growing in right now and it hurts like a mother!! OUCHIE!

These are the things that made me happy today:

1. (get ready for the cheese) Talking to my weasel all day.

2. Sisterly bonding with my milf of an older sister...who was stoked that one of her co-workers called her that today. But I call her that all the time, cause she is. (wonder if that scored any extra points with her)

3. My boss' boss told me I looked real good lately, like I've been losing weight (i have, fyi) and that she knows it's from all the sweet love I've been getting. *giggle*

4. When the princess woke up this morning, she looked up at me and first thing out of her mouth was "I love you mommy"...try being pissed when those japanamation green eyes are looking up at you.

5. The princess and the genius sang along and knew the words to Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire.

6. The client that just told me I get the biggest hoops for the day award. And he was just as stoked as me at the fact that I got them at the dollar store. Gotta love a good bargain.

Well my lovelies, I think that's all for now. Unless, of course, more shit pisses me off today, which will probably end up happening. After all, the day isn't over yet! Optimism isn't the right term, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Oh those summer days

I actually got to work on time this morning. Let's celebrate. But then, after I'd been here for about an hour, they sent me home. They didn't like my attitude. Wait, I just lied. The night receptionist couldn't work tonight and we found out this morning...thanks Binks! So I had to leave and come back. Real fun. Since my sister had been ignoring me and not returning my phone calls (she probably thought I wanted money or a babysitter) I decided to stop by for some sisterly bonding. I couldn't help but laugh at the fact that we were laying on her bed, on our tummys laughing and talking like we were teenagers at a slumber party.

So tomorrow is moving day. I'm excited in a way, and dreading it at the same time. I hate moving and had said the last time I moved that I wasn't going to do it again for a long time...that lasted about a year and a half. But this house is bigger and I get not one, but two rooms! And that pretty much rules. We'll see how that goes. Now I just have to convince my supervisor to let me have either the whole day or half the day off tomorrow so that I can get started on the cleaning and such. ::sigh:: So much to do, so little time. Here she comes, Elasticgirl...her power: you can stretch her in 20 different directions and she goes right back to her normal state. A little more ragged than before, but normal none the less. Here to save the day isn't the right catch phrase, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Those good times, they come and they go

I spent this weekend up in Prescott...where the weather didn't go above 72, the toilets easily clogged when flushing a tampon and where I could spend a good night praying to porcelain gods. It pretty much ruled. I didn't want the weekend to come to an end. It was so nice and relaxing, no worries, no drama, no...nothing. Just good times with good friends. Well, the weasels good friends, whom I got to meet for the first time. I was nervous about it, but I think it went well. I think I've been deemed worthy to continue my relationship with the weasel...which is a good thing, cause I don't plan on going anywhere, so they're stuck with me. But, one of them started calling me hooker, and that can only mean that he liked me and felt comfortable enough with me to call me hooker...repeatedly. That's Smelly Pirate Hooker to you, Woodman! So now I'm back to this hell hole otherwise known as work. One more month til I'm free. Born free isn't the right song, but it's the first that comes to mind.

And she dances on the sand

First off this morning, let me just say how proud of a mother it makes me when, as One Love by Bob Marley comes on, the princess proclaims that "I LOVE this song!" and starts singing along...the actual words too, not just the usual jumble of vowels and consonants she blurbs out to make it seem as though she knows the song. Oh, and before that when they both sang along to the Ramones' Blitzgrieg Bop...which they learned from Jimmy Neutron the movie and Daddy DayCare, but, nonetheless, they like it, and any other Ramones' songs I play. What a proud day for a mother.

I took the kids over to my sisters' today, where they will celebrate the first day of summer vacation. Bastards, having fun while I have to be at work. *grumble* *grumble* The second my sister saw the princes, she said "Poor Naia!"...let me explain. The kids ended up having to stay at their dad's last night...he doesn't own a brush, why would he, he has no hair...so I couldn't brush the princess' hair this morning. She opted to wear her leopard print dress today...and I just wasn't in the mood to argue with her to change...not to mention the fact that looking for clothes at his place is like going on a scavenger hunt in search of a needle in a haystack. So I just didn't want to even bother. So she pretty much looked like a little cave girl.

Before I left my sisters', she broke some bad news to me. This made me sad. And I was speechless for about ten seconds after she told me, and I had to have her "rewind" so that I could make sure that I heard right. Jared Letois GAY. Supposedly. Not that I have a problem with gay dudes, but Jared Leto?! I have been celebrity in love with him since the beginning of My So Called Life! How can this be?! The pretty ones always are, it seems. Skeletons isn't the correct term, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Sharpies are the new eyebrows

"How does this bra make my boobs look?"
"Like boobs. Gawd, your boobs are ginormous! What size are they?"
"Double d."
"I'm sorry, what did you just say?!"
*blushing* "Uh, double d..."
"I fucking knew it!"
"Shut up!"
"Wow, I'm really proud of you!"
"Oh yeah? Why's that?"
"You've taken really big strides this year. You've admitted that you're shorter AND you've admitted that your boobs are actually bigger!"

Oh, the conversations you can have with your wife. All I have to say about that is that at least one of my boobs isn't bigger than the other one! bahahahaha Ok, and now that I've said that, I'm going to get grounded. But whatever. Today I had a popsicle. And you know what? It was amazing! I haven't had a popsicle for what seems...you know what? I'm done cause I'm just rambling. Ineed to go home and gets to packing! Damn, I swore I wasn't going to move again...oh well. Pain in the ass isn't the right phrase, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Rantings of a mad Mexican woman

I am cursed. And by cursed I mean that God, if there is one, hates any and all women and just likes to watch them suffer for 3-5 days a month. Why is this? I mean, all Eve did was try and give her man a yummy treat. And what, we get punished for all eternity? I don't find that very fair. Excrucuatingly painful cramps, junk food cravings, sore boobs...yup, all of this, as much as it seems, is NOT fun. And not surprisingly, it's also a time of the month when most women are horniest...but men don't like "that time of the month". Big babies. Why is it that we suffer through all the pains in life. Periods, child birth, boob sagging, eye drooping. I'm telling you, He hates us. Oh, and let's not forget the overly emotional state...crying over commercials and the like. ::sigh:: Calgon take me away.

I am Jack's dying pancreas

So it is confirmed that my uncle has pancreatic cancer. They're realeasing him from the hospital today, but the hospice is taking over. When hospice is taking over, it pretty much means there's not much time left for that person to live. And that's what we were afraid of. My mom is beside herself. I don't even know what to think. I've been feeling real anxious lately...this could be why. It's just been growing. And when I feel like this, it's usually bad. Well, as Tris would say, "That's the circle of life Aunt Mal". Why is it that children seem to understand death more than us? Or maybe not necessarily understand it, but are more accepting of it. I've been through way too many deaths in my life and not looking towards another one. Niagra tears isn't the right phrase, but it's the first that comes to mind.

By the grace of Mal

As most of you know, I have the grace of a cat. The grace of a cat on acid. Which was seen this morning by the weasel. Having already embarrassed myself by snorting mid make out. Needless to say, I turned bright red. Do you even know how hard it is to turn a brown woman red? It's very hard and happenson rare occasion. So this morning, as I grabbed my phone to call the sister to convince her into picking up the genius for school, I went to plop down onto the foot of the bed...my ass hit just the edge and I slid off it and onto the floor. At least my room is somewhat messy so that I had clothes and a blanket on the floor to break my fall. And it gave the weasel a pretty good laugh. I'm glad my lack of grace is entertaining to some people. Well, I guess I can say it's entertaining to me too...but still a little embarassing...at least in front of the new boyfriend. You know, cause we're supposed to be not human...no farting, no pooping, no snorting mid-kiss. Oh well, What can you do. Nothing, but laugh at myself everytime I fall off the bed...cause with my good grace and balance, it's bound to happen more times than little boys have been to Michael Jackson's place.
And speaking of the new boyfriend, I have to meet the friends tonight. Let the interrogation begin. I'm nervous though that they won't like me. Yes, I know, how could anyone NOT like me, you might be asking yourself. But believe it or not, there are SOME people out there that aren't too fond of me, hard as it is to believe (i hope you all see the sarcasm dripping from this blahg, by the way). Not normally one to care about people's opinions of me, this is different. This is the first boy who's friends I didn't already know. It should be fine. You know me, I'm not generally happy unless I'm worrying about something. I just like to pretend i'm laid back and easy...going.
I have something stuck in my tooth and it is REALLY starting to bother me.
Speaking of bothering me...here I go again...the people that call here are pretty much retarded. I don't understand how people think and I really wish I did. Because then I would know why someone would call me and ask me if I see the person he needs to talk to...uh, well, being that I'm not superman and DON'T have x-ray vision, no, I do not see her. Or maybe he thinks our office is about the size of a phone booth and if I turn my head I'll be able to see everyone in the office. I wonder. Sometimes I wish I was psychic. See also: Madame Zorba...See also: Jean Grey.

The ramblings of a sociopathic wannabe

Today has not been my day. And right now I feel extremely anxious. I don't know why. I had to call my mom and sister to make sure that my uncle was all right. And he is, better than he was...so we figured that it must just be stress. So I thought, what could I possibly be stressed about? I'm actually happy for once...then i remembered...today was pay day and pretty much all my money is gone already. Stupid adult responsibilities. *stomps feet* Sometimes I find myself wondering why I ever grew up. I guess I didn't REALLY have a choice in the matter. When I was younger, my favorite song used to be the Toys R' Us song...I don't wanna grow up/I'm a toys r' us kid...and I used to tell my dad that I was never going to grow up. I wanted to stay a kid forever. I'm one of those kids that actually had a childhood...unlike most of my friends who were having sex at the age of twelve and drinking. I'd just as soon sit at home with a good book and a smoke. That was probably the most adult thing I did...smoke. And most of the time it was not cigarettes. But for the most part, I acted my age. So much so that my mom once took me to see a shrink because she thought I was depressed...since I wasn't out running around with the neighborhood kids...I just sat at home and read all day. The funny thing is, that I actually LIKE reading and that's what I ACTUALLY wanted to do. My friends were too busy dating 18 year olds (we were 12) and doing it in their cars while I sat around smoking. I didn't really consider that fun. As much as I like to watch people do it in cars. Now it seems I have the problem of acting WAY younger than I actually am. But the good thing about that is that people have started thinking I'm about 19 or 20...heh heh...my evil plan is working.
Ok, I'm not really sure I'm making all that much sense. My wisdom teeth are starting to grow in some more, so my mouth is in some pain. And I don't like it. Not to mention the string of "bad luck" I've had today. It's all just been little stuff, but it is the little stuff that counts, right. First my new giant hoop earings broke...it's a good thing I had bought more than one pair. Next, my shoe broke. The first time wearing them since I bought them, I'd had them on for about 2 hours...it's a good thing that I always have shoes in my car. Then at lunch I had two cop scares. For those of you who don't know, my tags are expired...as meemo says, it's people like me who are preventing the fixing of cracks in the streets...and I need to get my car registered again, but I have to do emissions, but i can't yet since the engine light is on (anyone know how to turn it off) and emissions won't pass your car if the engine light is on...sometimes you can go through and hope the person is nice enough to pass you anyway, but it's usually pure luck, so I don't think I should try. So ya, I got all stressed about the two different cops behind me. Whew, ok, I think I feel a little better now. A person just always needs complete strangers' ears to vent to, you know. Like the entire internet. I think I'll stop right here. I'm sitting at work all alone and I could go on for days about complete nonsense. madhatter isn't the right character, but he's the first that comes to mind.

Trials, tribulations and hangovers

Hello, my name is Mal and I am an alcoholic. Or at least I was last night. It was the wife's birthday, so of course i had to go out with her. My plan was to have only a couple of beers and go home and to bed early since i had to work today at eight. That plan pretty much went out the window after my first shot. About eight shots and 5 beers later, I was pretty much gone. I stayed so late that Clint had to see if I was ready to go...that rarely happens. So, all in all i'd have to say it was good night. But then, the evil sun had to rise and i had to get out of bed to go to hell...otherwise known as work. i'm pretty sure I was still drunk as I was driving to pick up the princess this morning. Not to mention that I was late. Again. Man, I haven't done that in a while. So now I sit here wanting to go back to bed, craving something huge and greasy, completely bored. Eh, what can you do.
I called my mom this morning to see how she was doing...apparently they had to take my uncle to the emergency room last night and they're still there. I don't know the full details yet, but I hope he's allright. This is really hard on my mom. And my grandma, well, she's pretty confused on the whole situation. Her alzheimers seems to be getting worse. So when I say I have the memory of an 80 year old with alzheimer's, it pretty much puts a stamp on my trip to hell. I should stop saying that. heh. Highway to hell isn't the right song, but it's the first that comes to mind.