I MUST get rid of this double chin! The latest pics of me make me want to crawl under a rock. There is a cute person under this crap and I feel cute until I am reminded of what I really look like. Portion control and exercise. I did it before Sadie and I must do it now. I think I will start a diet blog for myself to keep myself accountable. Starting... tomorrow. Today? OK FINE! today.
I finished payroll. Online games are boring me today. I feel unfulfilled. Bored. Antsy. Chilly. Did I say bored? Hungry... I am splitting a Chinese lunch with Stevie, so I should not eat too much today! I am quitting the Coca Cola habit for a while, or at least quitting at home and work. It eats at my stomach and makes hunger painful. So, I'm thinking I need to add something interesting to my life, like maybe ceramics. Mark and I can find interesting stuff to do - like bike riding and taking Sadie for a walk as well as other aerobic activities, but he is waaay out there and I am here, and we don't see each other often enough to keep me busy nor is it his job, so... I bought my house thinking this is way too much room for one person! I own a 1000 sf, 3 bedroom bungalow, w/ basement. I already had a cat and picked up another to keep the 1st one company. Then I moved my brother in to the basement, which is a separate apt, and moved my storage belongings to the bungalow space. He went to Iraq and my other brother took his place in the basement. I got pregnant and moved all of my stuff in the 2nd bedroom to the bungalow space so I could convert the room in to a nursery. My mom came to stay for a couple weeks after I had Sadie and hasn't left. She occupies the bungalow space. I gave me dresser to Sadie. My office desk went in to my bedroom, so I had to move my cedar chest to the upstairs. The desk eventually ended up in the basement with the computer for my brother. So... I used to have a house to myself with more room than I knew what to do with. Now I can't even make space to do some ceramics and run the kiln that is stored in my eaves. My bedroom is reduced to 1 dresser and a bed, so all of my "stuff" has no place. I like everything in its place. I really DO! My 2nd br is Sadies, my upstairs is my moms and my basement belongs to my brother. The living room is crowded with toys and cats and more stuff. Oh and I don't have storage in my yard. Ceramics? HAHA!!
Why have I not done this before? I had a lunch of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn and a salad. I at almost all of it. It was good so I didn't stop when my tummy told me to. I feel uncomfortably pregnant with food. There is NO space left! I should just run to the bathroom and throw it up! I pretend to do that all the time anyway, with soup leftovers, so no one would even know it was real! And then I could eat the ice cream Stacie forced me to order. Seriously, I had no choice. I can't possibly eat a bite of it because I am SO FULL. So, again, why don't I start purging my meals? I will be able to indulge my food cravings and eat as much as I want. All I have to do is the one thing that I find just about impossible to do. Have you ever tried to throw up after drinking too much? Your stomach is churning and burning and you know you'd feel so much better if you just got rid of it? I have stuck my hand in my mouth and looked at the grossest splat of nastiness in my toilet and as soon as I force myself to gag I try harder to keep it down. I didn't throw up once when I was pregnant - until my water broke. That was weird, but I digress. What's the worse that can happen? I get bad teeth and skinny and eventually have to go to vomiters rehab? Actually I just had a better idea. Cocaine. Crack. Whatever kids these days do to get high and stay skinny. I should enjoy the ride, right? Screw throwing up. I hate throwing up. Lotsa people like meth and crack and I'm sure there's all kinds of cool drugs out there to lose weight on. Speaking of drugs... Sadie messed up my thyroid, so it is under active. They started me on a low dose of something or other to fix that. Why don't fat people just junkie up on thyroid meds? This heath bar blizzard is pretty good.
Saturday I was totally turned off by what my boyfriends "friends" were saying about his past. What kind of friends do that anyway?? I want to know everything about him and can't help but be curious about his past relationships, but I think I would like a stop put to the stories of his opportunistic skanky sex of the past. As long as he loves me and is faithful I am happy. If his friends start to have those conversations around me I will ask them to stop and if they don't I will leave. I trust I will be supported by Mark, as I doubt he appreciates the cock blocking any more than I do.
It was humid and 80 yesterday, which is fine unless you need to move around and then it was a little sticky. Today it is in the 60's and sunny. I opened up all of the windows in the house and let that muggy warm air out! It is breezy and pleasant in here now. Mark is sleeping in my bed, after getting up at 5:30 am for work. I will join him when Sadie takes a nap. I am sleepy too! We plan on taking Sadie out for a long walk later. I might even talk Mark in to doing a little man work around my house. Tonight we are going to what should be an awesome party - PJ themed. I do not wear PJ's so I'm going in a robe. :)
I went to college in Kansas City, MO, at the Kansas City Art Institute. Most students that attended were just as poor as I was. We were lucky enough to be grungy when it was popular and none of us had a car. KCAI was located in a great spot, between The Plaza and Westport. When you put a bunch of creative, poor and bored kids together in KC you get fun! We used to climb the many towers of the plaza, skinny dip at the country club pool, dumpster dive, raid the fountains for change, steal random stuff like construction cones and christmas lights, foam the fountains, break into abandoned buildings, and run under the city in the sewers. There are so many stories... exploring Union Station, playing in Sharper Image on acid, flirting with the museum cameras at the Nelson/Atkins... sometime I wish I could go back and I still dream of KC, but I would have to unlearn what I learned during that time to have the same experiences. I am older and wiser and boring now! Would I run through the sewers again given the chance? I would like the opportunity. Maybe not the sewers in KC, but something exciting and silly and fun... and legal.
I am grateful for Mark. He is sweet. Kind. Intelligent. Sexy. Romantic. Honest. Committed. Loving. Caring. Forward thinking. Respectful. Enthusiastic. Fit. Affectionate. Interesting. Compassionate. Funny. Fun. Silly. Confident. Masculine. Reliable. Open minded. Ambitious. Sociable. Patient. Even tempered. Sincere. Humble. I really enjoy our days together and I miss him as soon as he leaves.
Dang it! Is "Scooter" going to bend to peer pressure and stop blogging about our relationship? Will he succumb to peer pressure? Will he push the SHINY RED BUTTON? I guess I can't blame him... the blog readers are vomiting on their keyboards. Love trumps other peoples current events, but it isn't interesting to anyone but the people in love, so Mark do what you need to do, but throw me a blog bone every now and then. I love you and like to read about us!
Life continues at a regular pace and nothing is really noteworthy. There is "stuff" going on... Sadie, Mark, home life, oh the police... and the Dr.. OK. I am happy to report that the Dr. said my cervix is looking healthy. I found out I had severe dysplasia when I was pregnant - well actually they told me it was invasive cervical cancer and I may need to terminate and have a hysterectomy... but they were wrong thank you very much. So after some rough procedures everything is looking GOOD! The police visited my home while I was in stirrups harassing my mom about my mini van out front. They were certain it was stolen and abandoned. My mom kept her cool and didn't tell Police Officer Joe Asshole off. I called her when I got out of the dr's and told her where she could find the title and now everyone is happy, except for me 'cause I still have a van with a bad engine in front of my house. Mark and I are going to trivia tomorrow night. Wednesdays are split now between trivia and chatters. It's fun either way. Saturday we are attending a pajama party - would anyone object if I showed up in my skin? Don't worry... I'm going to wear a bathrobe!
I could write a book about my daughter Sadie, and why she is here, but I'm just going to sum it up instead. I started a journal when I decided to conceive her and some day I may transfer the info here, but not today!
I spent a lot of time in the gym getting healthy and a lot of time on the computer trying to meet Mr. Right. I went on a lot of dates, but never found anyone worth my affections. I was sitting in front of the computer one day reading the juvenile responses to my ad (sexy pic... lets fuck), and realized I am 34! Just because Mr. Right has not appeared, or was passed up, that should not mean I have to be childless. I had been waiting for the ideal situation all of my adult life. I have wanted children since forever and have been careful not to conceive a baby when I was not prepared... married, employed, housed, insured... but dang it, I was 34! So after much consideration I decided to go for it. I found a willing man to give me the one thing I needed help with, who knew he would not need to be part of the child's life. I conceived the first time I tried! I loved pregnancy as much as I thought I would. Sadie was born May 2nd, 2007. She was 10 lbs 12 oz and perfect. She is my reason for living. I hope I don't screw her up!
Fickle. 1. unstable, unsteady, variable, capricious, fitful. 2. inconstant. 1, 2. Fickle, inconstant, capricious, vacillating describe persons or things that are not firm or steady in affection, behavior, opinion, or loyalty.
If you say it over and over it is almost hard to repeat. It rhymes with pickle. And tickle. Sickle.
There once was a man named Don Rickles
Who's nickname among friends was pickles
He didn't know why
His wife always cried
It was because she thought he was fickle.
And that, my friends, is why I am not a famous poet.
I had an unexpected date with Mark last night. We, of course, won trivia again with a few friends this time. He shows more restraint than I possess, but I think I can handle it. Trivia again tonight with Jesse and Stacie. Hmmm... maybe, no I will drive. Or, maybe Mark can drive if I put a little gas in his car... hmmm... I am thinking restraint will not be an option for him tonight.
I have many MANY fond memories of my time at the Kansas City Art Institute in Kansas City, Missouri. I had a few places I loved to hang out, like this one spot at the Nelson/Atkins Museum that felt like the edge of a cliff, or on top of our house on Warwick Street. The first year I lived in the dorms, at the art institute. Outside of the dorm back doors, looking over the center of the campus, was a very large, obviously old, Ginkgo Tree. I loved that tree. I learned to climb quickly to a comfortable branch that was nearly horizontal and wide enough to hold my body gently and comfortably. From my perch I was able to observe friends and strangers while often unnoticed. Some days I just lay on that branch so comfortable that I could almost fall asleep, feeling like a giant cat taking an afternoon nap in the jungle. I miss that tree and I miss the peaceful energy it emanated.
I am SO tired! Apparently I snore now. Thanks AGAIN Sadie! When Mark can't sleep he finds creative ways to occupy his time. I am so tired! Did I say that already? Am I here? Is anyone reading this? Where am I? I also took a Motrin 800, which makes me sleepy. And the 1st day of my period can be draining. Maybe a vitamin will give me a boost. I started taking them last week, mostly just because my fingernails are unhealthy and peeling. Yaaaawn... I am so not interesting today.
I have decided to experiment on myself. I have the shakes. It is more annoying than interesting. I was put on antidepressants along with medicine for an underactive thyroid. Thanks Sadie. Anyway, I stopped taking the anti's Friday, because I didn't like the side effect, I don't like to take pills, and I am plenty happy. Throw on some good old fashioned PMS and I don't know what is going to happen. I am going to add birth control in to the mix on Sunday. Gosh. I hope I don't go psycho! I am very mellow and even tempered normally and I think I do quite well with the PMS usually, but what's up with the shakes? I feel like I drank a vat of coffee. I am a bit... overexcited, which is the PMS I think. I may need to dope myself for Marks sake tonight. I think I still have a couple vicodins that should still be good. Or I need to go for a jog or something. Instead I am going to sit at my desk and spend the rest of the workday doing payroll. Weee! Update: Maybe I was jittery because I hadn't eaten anything yet. Why must I eat all of the time? I am better now.
I downloaded a pirate hip hop cd for the party. We listened to it in the car last night. Yaaar! I think Mark would make a sexy pirate.
Our mood swing moment last night: We would have gone in to the final round with even more than 49 points to risk if either of us had known anything about Ben Affleck. I know he's fucking Jimmy Kimmel (best thing on youtube since forever!). That's it. So the cool part was when we realized we got the final question right, but they did not call our team name for the tie for 3rd and Mark was disheartened saying there is no way we did better than 3rd with other people having more to wager on the final question. So there we were, putting our coats on and they announce 2nd place at 94 points... that meant we won 1st! They call our name, Mark gave me a big sloppy kiss, we collected out winnings, and grinned all the way home. Thank you TV Guide. Thank you Mark. We make a great team! Again, we beat out a dozen other teams some with 8 players. Just the two of us. Pretty cool, eh?
I was born in Garden City, at Garden City Hospital. I lived in many places before Kindergarten, but my schools help me keep track of where I lived so. Before Kindergarten I know I lived in Garden City, At Blue Gardens Apartments. I can remember living in Detroit with Jesse's father. I can remember living in Commerce with Gramma. I think I stayed with my aunt Tana for a while too. Kindergarten: Wyandotte, MI 1st & 2nd grade: Taylor, MI 3rd & 4th grade: back in Wyandotte 5th grade: 1/2 in Garden City, MI - 1/2 in Ft. Lauderdale, FL 6th grade: West Palm Beach, FL 7th Grade: Dexter, MI 8th grade: Boca Raton, FL 9th - 12th: Boynton Beach, FL College: Kansas City, MO
I think I may have forgotten a few. I recall not liking the move during winter break and I know that it happened at least a few times. When I was a kid IN FL I would usually go back to MI for summer vacation. I lived with Stevie and her parents my 16th summer. Boy, she really was a trouble maker! I lived with my father between high school and college till I "ran away" and moved in with my gramma. I lived with my Aunt Tana one summer. We spent EVERY DAY at the local pool.
Anyway, then I moved to Rhode Island, then back to MI, then to MA, then back home to MI and here I am, in Inkster, MI. I don't see myself moving any time soon if ever again, tho I am always up for an adventure.
I feel compelled to write something, but I got nuthin, so here's another story. Since most for the stories that come to mind that may be interesting are usually kind of wrong and dramatic, I thought something pleasant would be boring but better this time.
My earliest memory is feeling warm and comfortable and content. I was surrounded by a plush sea of a blue-grey greenish softness. I remember not being able to see what was past the waves of what I now know was a blanket, but that was OK. Content. Peaceful. Comfortable. Loved.
Oh well. So here's a story: I had a Raggedy Ann and Andy Nightlight Radio when I was a little girl. I listened to music at night before I went to sleep and it glowed all night long. I have fond memories of it. It turned up years later, when I was maybe 10 years old. It didn't work, so I took the back off and player around with the little do-hickeys and wiggled wires on the circuit board. I put it back together and when I plugged it in it WORKED! I FIXED IT!!! Woo Hoo! I jumped up and ran to go tell my gramma that I repaired something... and tripped on the cord, which ripped out of the back of the radio damaging it beyond repair. The end.
My father asked me to stay with him the summer of my 11th year. He lives in the middle of a bunch of nothing and the summer was quite boring and stressful because my father is an ass. He would not let me in the house during the daylight hours except to use the bathroom and eat. His girlfriend was living with him, but moved out, apparently because she didn't like the way he was treating me... tho if she REALLY didn't like it shouldn't she have stayed and tried to make my life more tolerable? They were married after I finally left. Anyway, when summer vacation was over he said I was going to stay there and go to school. Just try it out for a period. I had no choice and felt like a prisoner. I went to 7th grade at Wyle Middle School in Dexter. It was a difficult time for me. He didn't know what he was doing and he was fucked, so I super stressed. I went through puberty that summer. He was not speaking to me except to bark an order like "get in the truck" and I would only get a dirty look if I asked where were going. I think her was afraid that I would have weight problems like he did, so he restricted my diet. I lived on peanut butter on wheat toast. I was allowed shredded wheat bricks for breakfast, but no sweetener. I was average weight when I arrived and pretty thin after a year and puberty despite the fact that I started buying food with my babysitting money and hoarding food in my dresser. Anyway, off track again. The school offered our 7th grade class a week at a camp. I packed poorly. I didn't bring - much of anything. It was OK. It was somewhat enjoyable. We had campfires and contests. What sticks in my memory more than anything else was what happened when I came home. I didn't realize how stressed I was until I got away from my father. I would cry at the drop of a hat. Literally I would cry if he said a word to me. When I came back from camp I felt... normal. It only lasted a couple days but it made me aware of how fucked up my life was at that time. I had been through a lot previous to living there with my father, but I was loved and I felt unconditionally loved before. At my fathers I had no one during a most confusing time in a girls/womans life. I felt deprived of love and food and happiness. I used to call my gramma at night when I was left alone for days at a time and beg her to get me home, to Florida. Finally the day came. It was after a whole year of school. He said I had to see what it was like to spend a whole year in one schools. I remember feeling so... weird around my gramma and uncle Don that first day back in FL. I will never forget my first meal home. Gramma made me all the comfort food I used to tell her I longed for during those late night phone calls. She made roast beef, mashed potatoes, corn, rolls and veggies. I sat there feeling stressed and awkward and practically whispered "can I have another glass of milk?", something my father would have given me a dirty look for. My uncle Don said "of course you can, you can have anything you want any time you want". I felt something in my brain pop and a great weight lifted from my body. I gained 50 lbs that summer. Many years later I told him that that was the worst year of my life, but I forgave him. I don't wish him dead or even illness. He is self absorbed and still a bit "off". He is a "psychic healer" now and lives life childless. Works for me.
I was there and it's kinda hard to believe. Between 8 p.m. and 4 a.m. we had at it 6 times. Nothing could stop us. Not the screaming of a baby. Not the imprisonment of a raccoon. Not sweat, stink, nor nearly impenetrable condom packaging. Kudos to you. You enthusiasm is unmatched in my experience and I thoroughly enjoyed every romp. I am satisfied. I am content. I am happy. I am tired! I am looking forward to Wednesday. :)
OH. You're lucky I like you. No more hickeys on my neck young man. Naughty Mark!
I can look at this job from a lot of different angles and most are positive, but nothing changes the fact that I struggle through work every day.
I have it made, really. I am the boss. I only answer to the owners. I have the only private office in the building. I can pick my nose all day, naked, if I wanted to . OK, well maybe not naked, but I wouldn't get fired if I showed up in a robe. I can come and go as I please and have no set time to arrive in the morning. My 3 assistants were interviewed and hired by myself and I like them all. It is a casual atmosphere, where we can pretty much say whatever we want to each other.
The work is easy. Mundane. Boring. Repetitive. I have been here for something like 4 1/2 years. With 3 assistants I don't even have that much work to do... well, that's not true. There is all kinds of stuff I should be doing, but it's a struggle to force myself to work. I do what I have to do and make sure that my assistants don't do anything to get me in trouble. They are, in a way, an extension of myself at least as far as the owners are concerned.
I... I don't know... I have a short attention span or something. I am bored easily. I am creative and enjoy doing things outdoors. I don't even really enjoy writing, tho I do have an internal dialog going at all times with a soundtrack running in the background, but here I am. Why? Because it's one more thing to do instead of making those collections calls or catching up on payroll. I long for the weekends and daydream about strolls in the park, but I spend most of my free time inside anyway.
So, anyway. I am obviously doing something I do not care about and I should be doing something else. If I knew what that was I would pursue it. I don't really know what makes me happiest. I'm a hands on type. Mechanically inclined. Creative. I enjoy teaching. I enjoy children. I love animals. The problem is a lack of DRIVE. What would excite me enough to go back to school?
A month ago I was... blah. I had Sadie, who is my own personal rainbow, and a vehicle and a house and I have some good friends. I was getting through each day and thankful that nothing bad was happening. What a difference a few weeks makes. If you would have told me that in less than a month I would be spending time with an intelligent, handsome man who enjoys my company as much as I enjoy his I would have said "yeah, right... pff". I have many fears now, some of which are wrapped up in my need to control a situation and to not fuck things up, cause I want to be happy. I am enjoying myself. I have no doubt I have smiled more in the last month than I did all of last year. What if I say the wrong thing? It's stupid I know, but it's there. OK SO - I am going to try my hardest to relax and enjoy the ride. I will shush my insecurities and enjoy intimacy, affection, and romance, all of which I have been deprived for too long. I will stifle my fear of rejection and express my affection freely. I will do this in the name of... Jesus Christ, someones lord and savior. Amen.
Recent automobile events have made me wonder - just how many vehicles have I owned?
Honda Prelude 1982. My dad gave me this car when I was 16 in exchange for my mom not suing him for back child support. I have fond memories of driving with my ceramic torso buckled in the front seat while blasting the Moody Blues on the tape deck. I maintained the engine just as I was told by my father, but neglected the brakes. The bolts ground through the rotors and snapped the brake lines just as I was getting on the highway at 1 am in the middle of nowhere. I drove for an hour on the highway with absolutely no way to stop, as my emergency break didn't work either. It ended well, and really it was a blessing that I didn't have a car to take to college.
Ford Escort. 1984 I think. Little tiny thing. I bought it in FL for $400 to get me back to KC. Loaded everything I could fit in it and Jesse and I started the trip north. Turns out the engine block was cracked. We were towed back to Panama City FL, from Dothan AL for free. Thank you AAA.
Toyota Corolla, 1980something. My mom gave me her, which at the the time was by far the most unselfish thing she had ever done for me. We transferred the title and everything I owned to the Toyota and started the trip again. By that time I was out of money and anxious to get back to KC. We tried to drive straight through by taking truck driver speed. We made it all the way to KC, and just as I was figuring out I should have turned left instead of right off the highway I T-boned a car in an intersection. That was the end of the Toyota. The accident is another story.
Chevy Celebrity 1987. One of my moms friends had her car shipped up to me to have. I still don't think I have adequately expressed my gratitude for that. I let it sit for almost a year before I could get up the nerve to drive again. That accident fucked me up, plus everything was within walking distance in KC. The car was stolen by some teenagers and after a high speed car chase with the police it was rolled and there goes the Celebrity. The red dingle balls glued around the interior helped convict the kid who stole it.
Honda Prelude 1980. My roommates boyfriend sold it to me for $1. I was a rusty piece of shit but I loved that car. It got me back to MI, from RI and back to MA a couple years later. That car would wait till I was in a convenient location before it would break down and it always found the best parking spots. I cried when I have to give up on it. It was rusty beyond salvation. I took the gold Cadillac emblem I had attached to the hood and still have it. Maybe I should install it in my car now and see if it brings me luck.
My roommates stepmother pressed me to buy her ginormous boat of a car for $800. I really have no idea what it was, but it was horrible and huge. The only good thing about it was it rode smooth. I hated it and bought something else. I left it sitting in front of the house, and a neighbor had it towed. I didn't even notice for some time and left it in the impound yard.
I replace that piece of crap with a Honda Accord for $1000. Something expensive went wrong with it and I sold it cheap to a friend.
My next purchase was a NEW car. Well, almost new. It had 4000 miles on it... it was a "managers special". A 1997 Saturn sedan. White. $14000. The engine blew at 32, 000 miles and Saturn said oh well, too fucking bad. I replaced the engine and paid all but around $4000 off. I sold it for what I owed and when we went to her mechanic to check it out he said that it had been in an accident previous to me owning it. I was SO PISSED. That was why the engine shit the bed. Saturn can fuck itself. I will never buy another one and I will make sure everyone I know will know what they did to me.
Bronco II. I bought it for $800 for the trip to move back to MI from MA. It lasted a while after and I sold it to buy my next car.
Nissan Pulsar... 89? Tiiiny car and cute and just right for me. More engine trouble eventually. I sold it to a kid from up north for $250.
Ford Taurus. 1997? I didn't like it, but I needed something and Rob was getting tired of helping me look at cars. It was trouble from beginning to end. The trans went out in it and I sold it for... $500? or something like that.
Honda Accord 1992? Good car. I stopped for a yellow/red light and the guy behind me thought I was going to blow through the light. Smash! The rear was all jacked up and I sold it to my cousin Terry. He is still driving it, making me regret getting rid of it. Mercury Villager 1993. John, our sales guy from work, offered to let me drive his minivan till I found something else or he needed it back. I didn't like borrowing a car... what if something happened? We transferred the title and I paid him $1500 for it in February with my tax money. In March another engine bit the dust.
Honda Civic 1998. Borrowed $2500 for this one and am still unsure of how to pay it off. I'm crossing my fingers that this will be another dependable Honda and I will have it for many years to come. It's been a long time since I had a stick... my 2nd prelude I think, but I am already feeling comfortable with it. I'll be forever grateful if I never have another reason to blog about cars again.
I like the idea of April Fools Day, if it means getting up to no good and having fun, but I can't think of doing anything that is not mean. Pranks are usually mean. Everyone thinks pranks are funny, except the victim, and I don't want to be the victim of a prank, so I can't play one on anyone. can I? I thought about blogging some sort of prank... about having a sex change operation, or getting married, or suicide but none of that is funny. Making up a story is basically just lying, and that's not funny even if it's for fun. So, happy birthday Scott, my cousin. Poor bastard was born on April 1st. I am still trying to think of something clever to do to celebrate the day, but most likely I will just be glad at the end of the day that no one did anything mean to me.