Closure is a girls best friend

As I was sitting at home today waiting to take the princess to school, I started to watch High Fidelity. If you haven't seen it, it's about John Cusack and his search for closure and himself in the midst of a current breakup. His search includes a bevy of lost loves he contacts to find out why they left him. That's the jist of it, anyway. And I started thinking about my past relationships.

I've only had two actual relationships. The first one that eventually ended in divorce and the second one which gave me no closure.

The ex and I met in high school. I'd had a crush on him in junior high because he had a cute butt and this amazing long, red, curly hair. In high school, I pursued him. We had a mutual friend and I got his number. We started dating and everything was kosher. Then I got knocked up with the genius. It's weird the amount of shit we've been through. We basically grew up together...and at the same time, grew apart. Things are different when you're in high school to when you have actual responsibilities and "grown up" duties when you're still a teenager. But through our ups and downs, we made it, and in the process have raised some pretty amazing kids. Eight and a half years of marriage. That's a long time. But now we get along great. When I tell people that, mostly the reaction is, "Why don't you get back together then if you get along so great?" My answer to that is, "We get along great as friends and nothing more." They don't really seem to understand. We grew apart, but at the same time, grew into a bit of a brother/sister type relationship. I was once told that it should be easy to just forget about him and erase him from my life. Impossible. He is, after all, the father of my children and there is no way he would ever not be in my life and vice versa. As far as the relationship goes though, that chapter of my life is closed.

Next chapter, my relationship with the weasel. I don't even really know how to describe it. It was fast, that's for sure. I'm not going to go into that much detail with this one, mainly because it was only about five months of sitting around and getting high and doing nothing. Also because I still don't really know what happened there. With this one, I got no closure. Finding out on myspace that he's engaged to someone else (i will not vilify other people no matter how badly i want to) and then getting dumped via e-mail, to me, does not closure make. So that was the end of that lobotomized chapter.
Main Entry: clo·sure
Pronunciation: 'klO-zh&r
Function: noun
1. : an often comforting or satisfying sense of finality ; also : something (as a satisfying ending) that provides such a sense

Fast forward to now with the new guy. It's been a little over two months, but I wouldn't really call it a relationship. I call it a "thing". We're taking it nice and slow. No labels, no expectations...just chill and relaxed and enjoying each other's company. Who knows what will happen here, after all, this chapter is still being written. But he did meet the kids yesterday. We had a birthday party for the princess and I invited him. I don't think it was too bad. The ex was there, of course, with his family, my family and some friends were there. It was a good night. And I think it went pretty well, not just the party, the new guy being there. The thing I liked best about that part was when aaron AND the new guy tag team (get your mind out of the gutter) teased me. They're cool with each other...so far...and that's important, being that the ex WILL be in my life as well as the kids' lives.

I know I overthink things a little too much, but my mind is a constant battlefield of thoughts and I can't help it. Although, yesterday, I got my chakra's cleansed. I know, it sounds funny, but it was pretty amazing. My heart chakra was blocked, I'm not really surprised. I closed myself up. It happens, you're in a bad relationship, and you don't want to let anybody in. I don't share myself easily, always wary of getting hurt. But I have let him in, just a little. So we'll see where this goes. Can't wait wait to see the ending. It's like a surprise you get in July that's supposed to be a 'do not open til Christmas' type of thing. Only time will tell.

All in all though, I think everyone needs closure. It helps the healing process begin. All that happens when there is no closure is bitterness, cynicism and pessimism build up and boil till a part of you is lost and can't see a way out. It sucks. I'm sure most of you know what I'm talking about. Take a couple of drinks. A few pills. Repeat.

I'm happy right now, and that's all that matters though...at least in this point in time. Things have been worse and at this point, I believe (hope mostly) that things can only get better from here. Just for the record, today's weather is hopeful with a chance of possibilities.

I put the ass in classy

Hickies are SO last season. So that means I am completely out of style. And apparently in 7th grade. Classy isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

It's karaoke night down at O'Kelley's. Pat Benetar. Maybe Joan Jett. Mr. Big. We'll see how many songs they let me do before they realize I can't sing and they have to pry the microphone out of my little midget hands. Oh, and my voice is way more raspy than usual...losing it again. As my other personality, "The Tranny" would say, "Do you think he likes chicks with dicks?"

I am very quite possibly not making much sense right now. That tends to happen when you're stressed out helping the genius with his last minute science project, take a soma, are surviving on about 4 hours of sleep and have received the dreaded "curse". For the record, the weather forecast is loopy with slight chances of bitchiness and sarcasm.

Adventures in Whoreland

I came to a realization this weekend. I realized that the new guy is pretty much the only guy I want to sleep with. Boyfriend or not.

I had a great time all weekend long, granted, a sleepless one, but fun nonetheless. But in the midst of my Sunday morning fun, I found myself missing him and not really into what I was doing. Gay, I know. But I don't really care.

It's been two months since I started hanging out with the new guy, and while I still feel bitter about the last time I got screwed over, I still plan on taking things slow this time.

Epiphany isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Misadventures in Horrorland

I am currently surviving on about 5 hours of sleep for this entire weekend. don't ask me how I do it in my old age, but I do. Not to mention that I had to, last minute, put together and host Easter lunch at my place for the ex and his family. Don't ask.

Let's start with Thursday. I wanted to sing karaoke. Like bad. So after school, I called up the crew (read: the wife) and headed out to O'Kelley's. Right when I got there Gina was ready for me to put in my songs. I hate singing alone, so I was trying to persuade her to sing with me. She refused. So I was trying to find a song, but the new guy was there with me and I was kind of nervous because I'd never sang in front of him before and, well, I was just nervous. So after much deliberation, I chose a song. After only a beer and a half, it was my turn. I sang sober. By myself. But I rocked Heartbreaker like it was nobody's business. Then Angela and I decided to rock out together, so we chose Mr. Big and Lita Ford. Still not drunk, and faster than I could say karaoke, it was our turn. She insisted we go on stage to sing. I refused. She kept on it and the new guy and others joined in. Since I'm susceptible to peer pressure, I caved. Off to the stage I sauntered. Lita Ford came on and I started singing my little heart out. I got THEE biggest adrenaline rush. I danced, I sang, I conquered. And a dude gave us each a dollar. All in all I gave a good show. I sang another song, but I'm proudest that I actually got up on a stage in a crowded bar and belted out Pat Benetar. And I wasn't even drunk.

Next morning I woke up way too tired and not wanting to wake up. But alas, I can't miss much school...at least for the rest of this term. So I drove my unhappy, non-morning person ass to school. I was only booked with two haircuts. I know I used to bitch all the time about how many highlights I was getting a day...well now I say I should've knocked on wood. Haircuts are boring and I just want to do color. So anyway, my first client gave me a $20 tip on a $15 haircut. F'n F'yeah. I'm a baller now. That was pretty much the highlight of my day. I go home and pass out. I was so tired from all the singing and drinking the night before and school. I actually passed out with a beer in my hand. I woke up to the ex standing over me laughing about said beer in my hand while the princess was repeatedly saying mommy. The ex left and the kids went about their business as I passed out again. I awoke, sweaty and uncomfortable about an hour later to find the princess cuddled up next to me, long leg draped over me, passed out and sweaty. I carried her to her bed, which isn't easy considering she's a little more than half my size and weighs in at approximately 60 pounds. I went back to my bed and passed out. Again. I woke up about and hour or so later with no real intention of going out. But of course, at about 10:30, the wife calls and peer pressures me into going to Jupes. Well, I guess I wouldn't say pressured so much as demanded. So I get ready and go. Sidebar: the new guy was supposed to be on a plane to Cali to visit his kids for Easter. So I'm at Jupes where I drank a couple of beers and I was getting ready to leave since I only wanted to go for an hour or so. I look up and there's my new guy. Of course I stayed. And drank more. And by more, I mean shots. At some point in the night the new guy wanted to take me to his place to show me around since I hadn't been there yet. We were outside and I didn't have my purse, but he said we'd be back shortly and to just leave it. So off we went. He showed me around and then he showed me some pictures of his family and what not. When we were done I stood to hint that I needed to go back to the bar since we had been there for about an hour and my purse was still at the bar and it was almost closing time. He wanted me to spend the night. He took me back to get my purse. Now the smart thing for me at this point would have been to get in my car and follow him back. I'm not that smart. At least not at that point in time since it'd been nearly two weeks since we'd had sex, I was a little distracted. Sidenote: contrary to popular belief, women DO think about sex that way.

So we go back, have some coital fun and he falls asleep. It's about 3 a.m. and I had told him that I needed to be home at least by 6 since I had the mom's car and I had to get ready for school and all that good stuff. He had to wake up at 4:30 to go and try to catch the next flight out, so I waited. I only slept for about a half hour since I was anxious and paranoid that I would sleep in. 4:15 rolls around and I start trying to wake him up. About 45 minutes later, he's still not responding. I start searching my pretty little head for friends that might be up at five in the morning and love me enough to pick me up to take me to my car. The wife was at the best friends place in North Tempe and three sheets to the wind, so that was a no go. Next was Clint. He was otherwise occupied. I couldn't think of anyone else who would be up at five in the morning and in the area. I tried one more wake up and nothing. I slipped on my chuck's and thought to myself, fuck it I'm walking. So I got my shit and hoofed it. The bar is only about a half mile from where he lives, so it wasn't bad at all. By the time I got home at 5:30 though, I was fully energized from my brisk morning walk and couldn't fall asleep. Then the princess woke up. Then the genius...who happened to be sick and throwing up.

Needless to say, school that day was rough. Although I mostly sat outside and chain smoked since I'd only had two clients for cuts which took me about a half hour each.

When I got home after, I wanted to sleep so bad before the derby game, but the wife needed me to pick her up. No nap for Mal. And that night...that night, I can't even talk about because it was pretty much one of the weirdest nights of my life. Though I will say this...At Casey's this scraggly older lady with herpes on the mouth sat at my table and started talking to me. She started telling me I was "so pretty", "so gorgeous", "so awesome". She then whips out a camera and wants to take my picture. Weird. On the plus side of the weirdness, she bought me a drink which was awesome since I had no money. The shit this woman...married-soon-to-be-divorced to a man...was saying to me, I can't even repeat. But like I said, she was buying me drinks. I know, I'm a whore. And the rest of the night, well, I'm just still in awe of the shit that went down, I can't even talk about it. Oh, and this was after I threw up everything I'd eaten for the past week, and was left still completely wasted. Go Figure. Stupid Jaeger bombers. Wait, I didn't meant it, I love them. But that last one was what triggered it. I shot it, wooed, then proceeded directly to the bathroom. Pass go and collect $200.

All in all a good, strange weekend. It ended nice with an Easter late lunch and my extremely smart, extremely cute (read: i'm biased) kids. The princess fell asleep in my arms...all legs of her.

I must say, I truly live a double life. There are no lies involved, no acting different cause I'm pretty much the same person all around, but a double life nonetheless.

Multiple personality isn't the correct disorder, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Blah blah blah blah blah blah

You know, everytime I go to write something lately, I just don't feel it. I just had a whole paragraph written out but I erased it because I just didn't...feel it. I'm bored with myself...lonely...irritated. So what else is new, you may ask? I guess nothing. I'm in a rut, plain and simple. What's going to get me out of this rut? I have no idea. I guess I'll just have to wait and see how this chapter of my so-called life turns out.

Reader discretion is advised

Warning: graphic grossness is involved in this blahg, so if you're easily grossed out, my dad or a boy in general who doesn't like reading about the trials and tribulations of the female "monthly's", then I suggest you don't read this. That is all

A funny thing happened to me in the bathroom the other day. As I was dropping the kids off at the pool (read: pooing) yesterday morning, I realized there was something not right. I felt as if there was something trying to make its way out of my chonch. I started to freak out that I was having a miscarriage, even though I KNOW I'm not or haven't been preggers for a VERY long time. So as I reached between my legs to see what it was, I felt something. I quickly withdrew my hand, shaking, not sure what was going on. Finally after a few seconds, deep breaths and words of encouragement to myself, I went back in. What I discovered freaked me out. It was a tampon. One that I had inserted 2 weeks ago. TWO WEEKS. I remember putting it in, then the next morning when I went to take it out, I couldn't find it, so I assumed I hadn't and just thought I had, since I was wasted I could have easily forgotten.

Gross. I know. When I was sick last week, it was Toxic Sock Syndrom. And I noticed that I've been having really sharp pains in the pelvic area, and now I know why.

That's pretty much the extent of my excitement for the week. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Under a rock

I was sick for the past few days. I didn't drink for the past few days. Therefore I was a lightweight when I went out last night. Four, maybe five beers later and I could barely walk. That'll show me to stop drinking.

While I was in bed for those few days, I couldn't help but over think things...between sleeping that is. When I'm at home alone, left to my own devices, I tend to do that...over think that is. I couldn't help but keep thinking about my loneliness. Yes I am surrounded by family. Yes I am surrounded by friends. But being that I'm a big spoiled brat, being sick with no one to take care of me really sucked. I actually called the ex to come to my house to baby me. And to take care of the kitties. Being sick is actually one of the few times I miss being married. Not like I can call the new guy to take care of me, he hasn't even met the kids yet (and won't for a long time) so that's nil. So in came the ex to the rescue. Just as a side note, the new guy doesn't mind that the ex comes around and is my good friend. But that's an entirely different story altogether. Its nice to have someone take care of you. Especially when the majority of your life is spent in prisons of loneliness. I don't understand it, but I guess that's just how life goes.

Being that I was sleeping all day, my night sleep patterns were thrown off. And while I was up in the middle of the night, I got inspired. I put my laziness aside, pulled out my laptop and concocted a first rough draft of the introduction to my in-the-works book. You know the one. The one on the trials and tribulations of internet dating. The one on cynicism on dating in general. So I think I pretty much broke the writing laziness I've had lately. Let the fun begin.

So now I guess I'll make my way back home. And possibly make my way to Renee C.'s pool to enjoy the beautiful weather we're having right now with hopes of tanning my too white for a Mexican legs. Albino isn't the right description, but its the first that comes to mind.

Where's a dealer when I need one

I am oh so tired. I know I go and stay out all hours of the night even though I have to wake up early for school, but why oh why am I this tired? I think I fell asleep somewhere between 8 and 8:30 last night. That is supremely early for me. But I couldn't help it. I was sleepy. And I'm still sleepy.

I think I need some crack. Because them I'm sure I wouldn't be so tired. Maybe I'd look like hell, but I'd be wide awake nonetheless. I know what ya'll are thinking right now...why not just stop staying out so late and/or being an insomniac? Because, my friends, that would not be as fun for me. Or for you, because then I wouldn't have zany crack head antics to write about in my blahgs. See how that works? Then everyone's happy.

Ok, so I guess I really won't start smoking crack, but damn if I could catch a break and not be so sleepy all the time. Wait, I know what it is...it's all those damn highlights I've been doing at school. I hate doing them (though I'm totally bitchin' at them) because they are not fun. The make my back hurt and take too long. And I swear the front desk hates me and knows I hate them and purposely give me so many damn highlights.

Meh, I guess I should stop bitching. Although, who am I trying to fool. We all know its what I'm good at. You know, besides doing hair.

So, back to the crack. Anyone got some? Ok, I just like saying the word crack. It's funny. You know it is, don't deny it.

::Sigh:: I guess I should go pass out...or I'll probably go hang out with the "bf" (read: the new guy). I'll probably never learn my lesson. Ah, what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger.

Give me your money

For those of you that wanted to see my bracelets, here they are...well, one of them at least. This one is two-tone (but I can make them a single-tone) with swaroski crystals and glass beads and is 5 strand (they come in 3 and 4 strand also). The bracelet is made out of ribbon. If you want one,e-mail me or comment me and let me know. I can do dark green, light blue, white, purple, light pink, dark pink, beige and...I think that's all the colors I have. If there is a different color you want, let me know and I'll see if I can find it...I can only use a certain type of ribbon for these, so if they don't make the color you want, you're s.o.l. (read: shit out of luck)! But seriously, you know you want one...they're real pretty. So buy one and give me your money.

Side note: These are made with love...you know, cause I'm full of it.

7 things you don't really care to know about me

I'm stealing this from the lovely Alimony's blog...we used to be old roller derby teammates and I heart her even though I don't see her anymore.

1. One of my biggest fears is zombies...especially kid zombies...but i know they're not real
2. I am the biggest nerd you will ever meet
3. I have a constant inner-mononlogue going...at all times
4. I have a secret obsession with cheerleading...and used to want to be one
5. When I'm alone, I supermodel runway walk down the hallway
6. I nickname almost everybody i meet
7. I absolutely hate excessive (or even moderate) grammatical and spelling errors

There, seven useless facts about me you wish you didn't know. Or maybe just didn't care enough to think about it that much! I'm extremely sleepy, overworked and not payed and my boobs hurt. Stupid being a girl. Maybe I should stop going out on school nights and actually stay home and sleep. But then if I did that, I'd have nothing to bitch about. Catch 22 isn't the right cliche, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Boredom at its best

Not one client this entire week. Not. ONE. I think the receptionists hate me. Maybe. I don't know. Or maybe it's that one that's a huge bitch that is just trying to fuck with me. I really would like to punch her in the face. But considering that I was just terminated, I have to tread on thin ice. But she really is a bitch and I hate her with a fiery passion. And I don't hate people like that very often. But I digress. It has been a very slow and boring week of quotas, magazine reading and chain smoking. Gawd help me.

On an even more annoying note, my tax money is officially gone...and I don't even remember saving it. Well, that's not true. But I was trying to be real careful this time, but, apparently, to no avail. Well, that's life. My life to be exact. I always figure out what to do in the end and come through somewhat unharmed. Oh, I could have been the star of My So-Called Life. Then married Jared Leto. I'm just saying.

Hells yeah

I'm baaaaaack! In school that is. Hooray for me. Relieved isn't the correct term, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Mrs. Jared Leto

That's right folks, I am now officially married to Jared Leto. I went to the taste of chaos show last night, where the famed "Jordan Catalano" met his eyes with mine, immediately fell in love and whisked me away to get hitched. It was amazing.

And then I opened my eyes and realized that I was actually in the middle of my worst nightmare whereas I was surrounded by pimply, hormonal teenage boys who wear more eyeliner than me and pants that would fit the princess and girls who were dressed so badly, it was entertaining.

But oh how I wish I could actually, in fact, marry Jared Leto. I have been "in love" with him since the days of My So Called Life. And, I was thisclose to touching him. In the middle of one of the songs he ran out into the stands where kids were grabbing at him while his bodyguard was trying to keep up, but the gaggles of screaming teens was hard to get through. He ran down to the floor, where we were standing, and I was going to just stand there, like the cool kid I am, and not go crazy, but how many chance are you THAT close to someone so freakin' hot and yummy. So I hurriedly mmade my way to where he was standing and shoved the annoying teenagers aside so that I may at least touch him. But alas, there were way too many damn people in the way. But I was close, oh so close.

All in all though, it was a real good show. We only got to see The Used and 30 Seconds to Mars, but it was well worth it. I don't listen to either band, but seeing them live, I think I'm going to have to start.

Delusional isn't the right term, but it's the first that comes to mind.

The waiting game with Alex Trebec

I'm still waiting to hear back from the director to see if I'm going to be allowed back into school. I don't see why I wouldn't be. The director knows that I'm a good student and that (not to brag) am good at what I do...so far. So why the hold up? It's making me very nervous. And I hate that. I was hoping I would've been called by today, and...nothing. I guess I'll just have to keep waiting and hoping.

So, I've been hanging out with the new "bf" (it's still not labeled, so we'll bunny ears the bf part) a lot lately. Still. He's a lot of fun and I have a huge crush on him. The best part? He likes me back. I was trying to explain to him yesterday how most guys, even if they like me, don't really consider me a girl for them to date. I'm pretty much only good for one thing. Not to say I mind all that much, really, but it does suck sometimes. So I'm pretty amazed that this one actually calls me and I'm not doing all the chasing. Yay for me.

I've had a lazy day today. Doing nothing but watching last season's America's Next Top Model...hooray for marathons.

Today's weather forecast is clouded with a chance of drunkenness.

Dream weaver

Sunday morning while the wife was perusing through < alt="Postsecret"> she asked me (jokingly) if I had sent in the above post card. If only. I think that would be pretty amazing. Truth is, the twins get me nothing, really. Sometimes drinks, but that rarely ever happens. Meh

I'm extremely irritated today. I got terminated from school today. It's really not that big a deal, all I have to do is write a letter of appeal and take it to the director tomorrow and I'll be back in by Friday. Hopefully. But still. It's like in high school when I got suspended for one whole day...and it was a half day...and I cried. Granted I ditched all the time, never went to detentions and was completely stoned all the time. But yet I cried anyway. I had never been suspended. So now, I didn't cry, but it still pretty much sucked. I'm on the honor roll and in student council. Ya, I'm a geek, what of it.

So leaving school, the biggest assholes were on the road. Road rage IS the right phrase and it's the first that comes to mind.

Ryan started the fire

I just spent the last 8 hours watching the Office. It's my new favorite show. Last Sunday was pretty much spent the same way. Weird.

So the new boy...I've hung out with him pretty much almost every day this week. Amazing is all I can really say about that. He gets along good (so far) with all my friends and most importantly, the bests. Especially the wife.

So we had the "where is this going" conversation...maybe just a little too early...but so far we've decided it's going to be what it is and not "labeled". Sounds good to me. Though I'm still not really too sure about the whole sleeping with other people thing. I think I'll put my retainers on the back burner anyway, just to be on the safe side. After all, that's what retainers are for.

So that's that. Live and let live isn't the right phrase, but it's the first that comes to mind.

There are no words

Yesterday I cut a "lady mullett". True story. And it's what she wanted...on purpose! It was amazing. Speechless isn't the right term, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Move along

Life is weird. I know I say this every 5 blahgs or so, but it's true. Sometimes I think God, if there really is one, just randomly throws shit your way to see how you'll handle it...but just for fun on His part. Hell, if I got to look down on people all day you better believe I'd be up there laughing my ass off and basically just amusing myself.

With that said, I met a boy this weekend. Saturday night to be exact...Saturday night when I was supposed to be at the derby game that I COMPLETELY forgot about. But I guess it was a good thing. So, chatted up the new boy, I guess I shouldn't really call him boy since he's a little older than me but whatever, totally got his digits and he got mine, and went our seperate ways. The wife and I had to make our way to Caseys. So being that sometimes I'm a drunk retard, I texted the new boy at about 3am. Although I didn't say anything embarassing, so that's a good thing.

I wasn't really expecting him to call me...or to call me at all really. Boys are retarded like that sometimes. But he called. The VERY. Next. Day. Big surprise on my part. So I waited a couple of hours because, of course, I was nervous to return his call. So finally I called, got his voicemail and left a message...I also said the word 'later' about 50 times. But then he called back and we made plans to go out.

We went out last night. Pretty good times. He's cool. Actually likes the same kind of music I do which is hardcore old skool punk otherwise known as shit, according to the wife. But a lot in common. Funny. Cute. Former tattoo artist. Artist. Tall. Heavily tattooed. Just to name a few of the things I like about him. There were a few little surprises thrown in there that I wasn't expecting, but nothing too bad. I just gotta roll with the punches and see what happens.

One thing's for sure, I am not, I repeat, NOT going to jump into a relationship with him, or anyone, as fast as I did my last one. I've learned my lesson and experienced that you can't rush things...especially when it comes to people that may or may not become a running role in your life.

All in all I had a good weekend. A little bumpy, but good nonetheless.

More of the excitement

I'm oh so tired. I went to Jupes last night. I was only gonna stay until about midnight. At last call, I was barely finishing up my beer.

School was busy today. Clients up the ass. The princess made a cameo and entertained all the girls with her awesome dance moves. She even danced off with the instructor. It was amazing.

Going to a party at the Murrays soon. I kind of want to go to sleep. But as the wife put it, the seven year old in me keeps thinking, "What if I miss something?!" Yeah, I know, call me immature.

Smiles. Laughter. Beer. Boys. Beer. Sounds like my kind of night. Anxious isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Fade into the wall

Today was a rough day. And by rough, I mean absofuckenlutely boring. Our instructor wasn't there, so we got shoved upstairs to sit around and apply, apply, apply cholestoral on our heads (read: mannequin). And it sucked. So I left early. No appointments and a bad sinus headache make Mal a grumpy girl.

In lieu of sitting around school with my thumb up my ass, I took a field trip to the mall *gasp* to look for a new job. Ugh, I wish I could be done with school already so that I wouldn't have to find some minial, minimum wage paying, I'm totally older than everyone else job. But I digress. I went to forever 21 and Hot Topic. Both illustrious in thier own right, I know, but I need a job and I'm desperate. As I was walikng into the consumerism conglommerate, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a man and a woman. Both with huge, fake smiles superglued to their pale, zombielike faces. I knew what they wanted. I could see the look in their soulless, blank stares. But there was no way for me to escape. So I tried to blend into the Forever 21 windowed wall. I slid across it, walking sideways. But it didn't work. They spotted me. Started walking towards me. I tried to avoid eye contact. But then it happened. The man started talking to me. Words spilling out so fast, all I could make out was "survey...$15.00...quick". I shook my head and said no thanks and sped walked out of there as fast as I could.

In case you didn't notice, I hate those people. Right up there with Kelly Clarkson's 'Since you've been gone'. And for those of you who know me well, that's a hatred that's pretty deep. And I mean with a fiery passion.

So the applications are dropped off and now all I have to do is wait. I don't like waiting. Guess I should have thought of that before...well, just before.

Ok, I'm done. It's hard for me to concentrate. I've decided I've pretty much become like a man...in the thinking about sex every 2 seconds way, not in the growing a penis way. Five weeks and counting. Another thing clouding my concentration are, not surprising at all, boys. Well, I guess that goes hand in hand with the whole thinking about sex all day. Why is it that girls have to overthink, analyze and obsess over everything having to do with boys while THEY get to just sit around scratching their balls obsessing over what they'll eat next. Oh, to have it easy. But I guess the grass is always greener on the other side.

Bombarded isn't the right term, but it's the first that comes to mind.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again

Ugh. I had half a blahg written out...but then I realized it was just a bunch of senseless bullshit that no one, not even me, would want to read. Wow, I'm kind of on a downward spiral when it comes to my blahging lately. Maybe it's the pressure of knowing how many people read these on a daily basis. The pressure to always be witty, funny or even somewhat interesting. The pressures getting to me man. I can't take it!

Or maybe it's just that nothing really interesting, funny and/or witty has happened in my life lately. Mostly a day in my life has consisted of school, kids and, well, nothing really. Well, nothing worth mentioning or that I should really talk about. I mean, I could go on about my sore throat. Or my most recent crush(es). My lack of a (current) sex life. My hair color class fun. Oh look, I do have stuff to talk about. And here I thought my life was boring.

Recumbant isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Something a lot of people don't know about me is that I like to read tarot cards. I do my own readings mostly, because I do get kind of shy doing it for other people. Sometimes I'm a show off, and sometimes I hide my abilities. It's who I am...contradictory. Anyway, I did a couple of different readings for myself yesterday and for the most part, were good. There is a recurring card that keeps coming up, I won't bore you with the details, and I can't help but have hope that what I'm seeing will truly come to pass. I know it sounds weird to most people, but for the most part my readings are spot on. I don't talk about it much though...like I said, I'm a little shy about it. But the recurring card is plagueing my mind. It has something to do with a boy. Describes him perfectly. And the surrounding cards tie in so good. I just have to stop thinking about it. But maybe, JUST MAYBE, something interesting will happen in my life. You know, for sake of blahging.

Ok, so besides the whole boring life, tarot cards thing, I am really enjoying my color class. I absolutely love it. But one thing's for sure, if you're coming to me for a color, make sure you're probably not going to be going anywhere, because I'm messy. I already have color all over my white shirt.

So, I guess that's it. Nothing too exciting (read: boring). As my father would say...Sin fin.

Side note

There is this boy I've been in love with since I was 19. He is often referred to as my "one and only" in my blahgs. He is, unfortunately for me, unavailable (read: married). Anyway, the wife and I were talking about him the other night and flashbacking to when we were 19 and extremely wasted, which was most of the time. He was hanging out with us and she ALMOST convinced me to go into the room he was in alone, and bust out a rendition of Cheap Trick's "I want you to love me". Good thing I didn't listen. That could have been highly awkward and embarassing. I was literally thisclose to singing to him. That is all. I just thought of it and it still makes me laugh. Oh the stupid shit we did when we were young.

You don't say

It's kind of weird when I'm left alone all day to my own devices. I'm not used to it. And when I'm alone, there's quite a bit of inner monologue-ing. And a tiny bit of depression. I think the depression will pass though once I'm used to all this free time again. At least on Mondays.

But it was relaxing. I started on the first chapter of my (read: one of many) books, titled: One girl's demise to insanity, an internet dating "not-to" . It's a working title, but I thought it was funny. Yes, I AM easily amused. But really, I started on it. And about 3 cross outs later, I got the opening sentence right. The opening sentence is the most important since that's what is going to catch the reader. I'm pretty stoked about it. Of course, the one reader that I'm going to try an catch the most is my father. After all, who wouldn't want a "journalism icon" to approve of your book. And then of course, the sister. Also a writer in her own right, she's a big reader. So her opinion is highly regarded. Of course, this will probably take me about at least a year to write. Being that I actually only have two free days a week...not to mention the problem of no computer so it will be hand written...oh yeah, and the fact that I'm a procrastinator. But in due time. Time flies after all...I can't believe it's almost February. A month commercialized by hallmark for a holiday that didn't even REALLY have anything to do with love and presents. I'm just saying.

I've also psuedo-created (read: haven't actually written, but have the idea) a character for a children's book. That should be fun, and interesting. Considering how sometimes dirty...well, "adult"...some of my writing can be. Meh. If I can mother two children, I can do this as well.

Speaking of children, when I picked up the princess from school today, the teacher told me that she's a little mathmetician. I'm so proud. I have a nerd in the family. Not really...she's not a nerd, just, apparently, smart. Oh, kids these days.

I'm tired. And worded out. Too much writing makes Mal a tired girl.

The crazy...it runs in the family

This week has been a bevy of drinking and not enough sleep. I know I've talked about this before, but I'd just like to reiterate. My insomnia has been gone for a short while, but lately, since I seem to not be able to go to sleep before 3am, my sleep pattern has been fucked up.

But I'm ending this week with a bang. Day drinking is always fun on a Sunday afternoon. I mos def need to cut the drinking on school nights. My mommy says so.

So, I'm real sorry that I haven't really had anything deep and/or meaningful to say in my blahgs lately. Alcoholism does that to you.

Cat tail biter isn't the right name, but it's the first that comes to mind.

My bleeding heart

I've gone out way too much this week. Happy birthday to me, right.

Too much drinking, not enough sleep. I need to stop going out on school nights.

Speaking of school, I've got a lot more clients coming back for more. Oh yeah, I'm that good. And other students ready to graduate handing off their clients to me. I'm so proud. Let's have some drinks and celebrate.

Lush isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

A night in the life of a camera whore

Here are some pics from my birthday party. It was good times, my friends, good times.

He was pretty much the hit of the party. Ya, he stole my thunder

The after party...complete with guitar hero

Clint petered out early...at least he stayed up later than midnight!

This was the next day...don't I look lovely?

I'm a young gun

Apparently I look anywhere from 18 to 25 to all the girls at my school. And you know what? I love them all for that.

Most of them are usually surprised to hear that I even have kids. It's amazing and a ginormous ego boost...especially considering my recent birthday.

Speaking of birthdays, I spent my actual day yesterday pretty mellow. I slept in the morning, a lot, and cried a little (read: pmsing). Then I went to the Methodist church in Tempe for a charity thing where we cut homeless people's hair. It was interesting to say the least. But pretty rad...what with the fuzzy little feeling you get inside from helping those less fortunate than yourself. Then it was off to Jupes for drinks. I wasn't even going to drink that much, but 5 pitchers and a shot later, I was drunk. I rolled into my house at around 2:30 am and passed out. It goes without saying that I've been tired and grumpy all day. Time for bed.

I had a good past couple of days. Although, the one thing I wanted, I didn't get. And I probably shouldn't say this on here since the sister and dad read it, but I really don't care right now since they know I got my kids SOMEHOW...I really wanted to have me some birthday sex. That's all. That's all I wanted. But no. I got shot down. Which never happens. And boy am I fiending. Boo.

Ok, so pms and no sex aside, I'm fairly happy right now. It's probably just all the sugar from the highly potent cupcakes I've eaten tonight. Yes, I said cupcakes...as in plural...as in more than one. Man, I'm probably going to gain back those 20 pounds I lost. Stupid being a girl.

Um, ya...the sugar is going to my head. I should just end it here...you know, cause I'm starting to draw a blank.

Sugar coma isn't the right malady, but it's the first that comes to mind.

I don't even know what to title this one

It' official. I am oficially another year older. Another year closer to 30. And another year closer to insanity.

On a cold winter morning in January, exactly 28 years, 2 hours and 6 minutes ago, a little bundle of joy was born. Coming into a family of a writer father, a college coed and a 7 year old sister, Malintzin (no middle name) Olvera began her life. With big brown eyes and a full head of black spiky hair, I won everyone over. Not much different from today.

But really...I wonder what my parents and sister must think of me now. Not knowing what was in store for my life. Not knowing how I would turn out. I know I wonder the same thing about my kitties. Maybe they did. Growing up, my nieghborhood nickname was "Tornado". True story. I was blunt, outspoken, loved to wear dresses while climbing trees, loved to roller skate and mos def got my way the majority of the time. Sound familiar?

It has been quite a ride, this life of mine, that's for sure. And, for the most part, I've enjoyed almost every minute. Even the bad ones. After all, you have to gain life experience somehow, right.

Old timer's disease isn't the right phrase, but it's the first that comes to mind.

What a year it's been

Last night was my b-day party...*ahem* mine and Clint's b-day party. It pretty much ruled.

I was still drunk til about 2 hours ago. You know when that happens that you had a good time. Not to mention the fact that I was up for an entire 24 hours. But was still have keg left, so let the drinking commence and continue.

I think that that's all I've got to say right now. I'm extremely tired and out of it, my mind's a complete blank.

And the birthday fun is mos def not over yet.

If you gave a caveman bubblegum

Would he know what to do with it? So I guess that's pretty much what I'm thinking right now. Don't know why, and don't really care enough to try and figure out why.

I actually had something worthwhile and witty to say, but I got distracted by watching Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Damn that movie sure knows how to kill brain cells.

Tomorrow is my birthday party. Monday is the holy day. I'm still obsessing about turning old. I can't help it. Everybody just scoffs at me when I mention it...older or younger than me. The 20 year olds tell me I'm not even that old (they really heart me) and the older ones just pffffftttttt me and roll their eyes. Whatever. I feel as though I'm old. Especially since I've got a 9 year old who's almost as tall as me who could possibly be going through puberty soon.

How does that happen?! His teacher told me his increasing ticks and ocd could be a sign of puberty, since things like that heighten with the onslaught of hell *ahem* puberty. I mean, I remember the embarassment of developing early (read: having big boobs at the tender age of 10) but I never imagined it might happen early to my very own flesh and blood. Well, I guess all I can say about that is I can't wait to call him Peter Brady. Good times.

This weekend is punk rock bowling in Vegas. I've always wanted to go. But considering I can't even afford regular bowling in Mesa, it wouldn't happen for me ever. But I do get to have a bitchin' birthday party. Bring on the politically incorrect and easily offendable. Drinking and offending, two of my favorite things in this whole wide world.

I inherited the alheimer's

For some reason, lately everytime I start to write a new blahg, I'll re-read it, you know, for grammatical and spelling errors and such, cause I'm anal like that, and then I'll end up deleting it and writing something comepletely different.

I think...I don't know what I think. Meh, I have been feeling a little empty lately. I'm not really sure why. I guess it's one of those things that you just can't explain.

It's not that I'm sad per se, just...blah. I'm not going to try and read into it too much, but maybe, just maybe, it's because there's nothing exciting going on. I mean, I love school and I'm really happy I'm doing this with my life..but right now that's all I have going for me. There's just no spark...no spice in my life. Just...things...happening. Happening around me, some of which I have no control over. But those things just seem, mostly...insignificant isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

Maybe it's because I've been so completely busy lately. I've been used to a certain amount of freedom which, as of late, has been virtually non-existent. Especially with the strict 40 hours a week school days. Meh, I'm sure I'll get over it soon. I always do, right?

Alright, I'm done. I keep getting distracted (read: spacing out).

So I leave you with this, since it's almost my birthday, how about you guys chip in for a gift for me...remember that padded room with a view I've been wanting for quite some time now? Well, chip in and get me that. And maybe some percs. Best birthday present EVER.

Now as my father would write...Sin Fin.

I don't speak mute

Once upon a time when I had a boring office job and only about 2 hours of work a day, I sat on the computer constantly. During my explorations of the world wide web, I came acoss the Miriam-Webster dictionary website. It quickly became a favorite haunt of mine, especially since there was a "word of the day, which I consistently posted daily. Today is one of those days. My love of words was put on hold for a short while, but it's back my friends, oh, it's back. So here it is, my word for the day. Actually, it's not the word for today, it's from last week I think, but I didn't like today's word...it was pretty lame. Here it is...try and use it in a sentence today.

unabashed • \un-uh-BASHT\ • adjective
: not disconcerted : undisguised, unapologetic

I want the butterflies back

Last night I went to my friend Mary's wedding. It was beautiful and a lot of fun. But while there, I couldn't help but think of my broken engagement. It mad me sad. But just for a little bit. Because then I started dancing with all my friends and having a good time. And while I know now that getting married then would have been one of many mistakes in my life, I couldn't help but shed a tear for it. Then came more dancing and the sorrow seemed to lift. My date for the wedding was the wife and we shared a table with our friends and it was perfect.

I'm no longer shedding a tear for what could have been. It helps that I know he hasn't been dwelling on me since I was so easily forgotten...what with his getting a girlfriend and then engaged within a month of him dumping me. But now I see the light. And this morning, i deleted all the e-mails he ever sent me.

I have officially moved on.

The only thing though is that I think the butterflies have flown the coup so to speak. I haven't had any butterflies for anyone lately and I miss them. Not even the boy I "hang out" with sometimes who I actually like. I need to get those butterflies back. I'm sure it will happen in time. Until then, I'll be here, going with the flow. Because whatever happens, happens. After all, I can't rush life, otherwise I'm liable to miss something.

One way ticket to Arizona

Our short trip is over. Currently in the middle of no where, New Mexico it's raining, cloudy and really windy. The weather forecast for today is pensive with a chance of light inebriation.

Yesterday we had a busy day. Starting off with the funeral which started at the funeral home, where we were offered a last viewing of the body. I didn't want to partake. Although the kids were enthralled with the whole situation. It being their first open casket funeral. They did good though. After the funeral home it was off to the old mission church that was built in the 1500's for the mass. Then the burial ground. We drove all over El Paso with a hearse. Crazy. After all that praying, driving and the buffet, we went to Socorro which is where my grandma lived before. Amongst the boxes of old 80's porno mags and dead mice living in her old trailer, we found some photo albums. Boy were there some funny pictures in there. And boy did I go through an ugly phase.

But after all the porno mag and bitchin picture time, we went to visit my dad. It was good seeing him. He gave me a paper that had an article about hm being and El Paso icon...journalism's living legend. Pretty amazing. Who knew that both my dad and I woud famous in our respective cities. Oh wait, you mean I'm not really famous?

While it was a short and exhausting trip, I'm glad I came. All the crying aside, I had fun and plan on going back real soon. At least sooner than a couple of years. For Dia de los Muertos for sure. In Mexican culture it's one of our long lasting ritual. And while my family and I don't really follow through with it, now that my grandma is the one that's buried now, we plan on following the tradition.

I'm starting to ramble now. Being on the road will do that to you. Take a few drinks. A few hits. Repeat.

My ass is sore...and other tales from the road

Well here I am on the road to El Paso. I forgot how exhausting it is to drive seven plus hours with 4 kids. Constant whining and complaints of being tired, "I have to pee" and " I'm hungry"...oh ya, and the fighting. Boy do these kids know how to fight.

We were just at a rest stop just outside of Las Cruces and I completely forgot that fireworks are legal here. Ya, it's pretty safe to say that I'm getting some on my way back home. Bitchin'.

My ass is sore. And not in the "I just got some anal" (not that that would ever happen)...but in the "I've been sitting on it for way too long" way.

Not to mention that I feel like shit...still. Last night as I was home packing I decided to have a little fun. Three percosets, four beers and a few hours of sleep later I was throwing up. It was pretty knarly, especially considering I hadn't eaten anything since four o'clock the previous evening. I went back to sleep and woke up another few hours later to pick the kitties up from their dad's ad I was pretty sure I was going to have to pull over. Fortunately that didn't happen, but I did worship the porcelain gods once again when I got home. Horrible, horrible bile.

Don't take a few drinks. Don't take a few pills. And definitely don't repeat.

And away I go

We're taking off to El Paso tomorrow. I haven't been back there for about 2, maybe, 3 years. It should be interesting. I'll get to see hundreds of my cousins that I haven't seen for a while. Though the reason we're meeting up is a sad one.

So, the way the whole Mexican/Catholic funerals go is first we have a rosary. Basically, it's a mass service where everybody cries and where I, at this particular one, have to read my poem in front of everybody.
It's all about sending the departed off to heaven...basically talking them up to the man upstairs so they can get into the Gates of Heaven. You can imagine how much fun that will be for me being that I never go to church or believe in all that mumbo jumbo. But that's ok, I'll get over it. After the service, it's off to drink cervezas and party it up like we Mexicans know how to do.

The next day is the actual funeral/burial. There's another mass with the body in an open casket in the front for the viewing throughout the whole service. I'm used to it, but most people think it's pretty creepy. Meh. Then comes more cerveza, music and, if we're drunk enough, dancing.

So that's going to be my next few days in a nutshell.

Well, with nothing really clever or witty to say, I'll end this here. Fairly out of it, I took a nap at about 5 this evening and upon waking at 7, I was under the delusion that it was tomorrow morning and I was freaking out for about 15 minutes. I'm smart like that.

Take a few drinks. A couple pills. Repeat.

Ode to my grandmother

Last Wednesday I sat with my grandmother at the hospice for a few hours so that I could relieve my mom for a few hours. She was a chatty kathy that day. Talking about certain family members, alive and dead, good memories and pretty much anything that came to her depreciating mind.

When my mom arrived, I said goodbye to her and she looked at me, with tears in her eyes, and asked me not to leave. "Don't go mija. Stay here with your mom and me. You have to be a good girl for your mom and help her out. Don't go mija." Those were the last words she spoke to me. The next day she became incoherable and pretty much out of it.

After I left the hospice I went straight home and, with tears spilling out of my eyes like Niagara Falls, wrote this poem. The end of the poem was inspired by another poem a good friend told me about in which we are reminded that the epitaph on a persons grave is not as important as that dash between the dates, wherein lies the life that person lived. This is dedicated to my grandma, a wonderful and beautiful mother, sister, friend, grandmother, person. No one met her that didn't like her. She was amazing. May she rest in peace.

Untitled

She talks as she slips
Stories past, she still remembers
Trying to leave
She's bound to us
Tears escape from unwilling eyes
Should I go?
Memories of dead babies
Brothers, non-existent
She doesn't want to stay
Incoherence, her only friend
Should I stay?
Still so beautiful, never-ending
Oh so strong
Grandmother atlas
Her life was resplendant
Her self, luminescent
Forget the dates
Remember the dash

Te amo abuelita.

Sadness reigns again

My grandmother died today. Early this morning actually. I got the call at 2am but I didn't want to face it so I stayed out drinking. Now I have to go home and cry. We've known it was coming, but it's still hard to lose someone so close. Time to face the music.

A decade of madness

Lately I've been obsessing about my impending birthday. Turning 28, I know, isnt that bad. But still, it's another year closer to 30.

I looked back on this last decade and this is what I flashbacked:

♠Age 18- Graduated high school. Married my high school sweetheart. Gave birth to the genius. All in that order.
♠Age 19- Got dumped by my (then) husband. Met the wife. Started my foray into the (sometimes) wonderful world of drugs. Discovered boys.
♠Age 20- More drugs. More parties. More boys. Toured a lot with the Hippos. The contest. (honestly, I barely remember that year...oh, it was the year I was nominated worlds best mom)
♠Age 21- I spent the beginning of this year completely stoned. It was my pothead phase. But it was fun. More boys. My mother-in-law passed away (very sad and depressing). Started sleeping with the husband again. Moved to San Francisco for a bit. Boys. Move back. Ended the year finding out I was preggers with the princess. Got back together with the husband.
♠Age 22- Pregnant and huge. Gave birth.
♠Age 23-24- Did the mom/housewife thing. Joined AxZx Roller Derby.
♠Age 25- A lot of shows. Seperated from the husband.
♠Age 26- Roller derby. Married the wife in vegas. Boys, boys and more boys. (are you seeing a pattern here?)
♠Age 27- Parties. Random drunken trips. San Diego...a lot. My forray into the internet dating scene for my yet to be finished book. Got myself a boyfriend. Got (a little too early I might add) engaged. Favorite uncle died. Got (brutally, in my eyes at least) dumped. Moved a zillion times. Found out my grandma has cancer and is dieing.

So, that was a decade in the life of Mal Vicious. Writing it out seems a lot more boring than it actually was, but I like lists and that seemed the easiest way to show you what's been going on. As a side note, in between all the madness, there were a ton of trips to Cali, Vegas (what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, by the way), Seattle, New York...basically, I was Suzy Travelsalot. But all in all, I'd say it was pretty interesting. Some days, some months, some years worse than others, but I got through it all and, surprisingly, stayed alive.

If ya'll have actually read this whole thing, kudos to ya'll and remind me next time ya'll see me for a special surprise, cause ya'll deserve it for reading and putting up with my shit for this long. In conclusion, I've learned a lot, not only from my mistakes, but from the people that have wandered in and out of the rabbit hole otherwise known as my life. Whether the experience with any of these people was bad or good, I've come out of it with new understandings and overall experiences. And who knows what this year will bring me, but like I said before...whatever happens, happens.

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.