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.