Rants (and two little raves)

Today was a bad day. Well, not so much bad as absolutely frustrating to the very core of me. I'll get to what set me off, but let me just tell you all the things that made it worse once I was already annoyed-frustrated-batshit crazy.

--I saw not one, not two, but FOUR people throw their damn cigarette butts out their car windows. Smoking annoys the shit out of me to begin with. I hate when I go to a bar and I come home smelling like ass from all the people who chain-smoked their way through happy hour. But I deal with it from certain family members who smoke. I don't complain out loud, I'm not rude, I just deal.with.it. and then go home and wash all my clothes and take a shower.
Anyway, what really annoyed me about this is that it is extremely dry around here. We had a random rainshower yesterday (the first in almost a month), but I swear it evaporated before it hit the ground. We have watering restrictions, and a burn ban. Most lawns look like hay, especially in commercial areas, and definitely along the highways. And here are ignorant asshats throwing their damn cigarettes out their window! WTF? I mean, if you can handle that shit in your lungs, why the hell can't you put it out in your damn car and handle the smell of it until you can throw it in a trash can?? I just don't get people!

-- At work, I have been trying to collect money. I won't go into detail, but it is pretty hard to get some people to pay, and I understand some of it may be due to the economy. But! Just tell me you don't have the damn money to pay me for the work we did 4 months ago, don't LIE! Annoying! Don't make me feel like I'm the pain in the ass, calling you every few days, when I am hanging on the lie YOU told ME.

-- This story bothered me when I read it last night, and I've been thinking about it all day. Do I really want to write another post about the illegal immigration 'issue' in our country? No, not really. But this story really pissed me off because the damn defense attorney for one of the defendents is actually trying to say that the victim provoked the defendents by retaliating against their racial slurs. WTF?? Are you kidding me? Grrrrrrr.

-- Has anyone else been following the jacked up story about little Caylee Anthony in Florida? She was allegedly abducted about a month ago, and her mother decided to allegedly search on her own, without telling any of her family. And then, finally, Caylee's grandmother is a bit worried, finds her daughter's car abandoned, and calls the cops. All of a sudden, Caylee's mom surfaces, like nothing is wrong, and somehow, Caylee's mom convinces her own mother that Caylee is okay-"Oh, she's probably settling down for a nap by now." And then all of a sudden: "OMG! Caylee's been missing for a month! Help!"
WTF? The stuff the mother is saying doesn't make sense. The tapes of her talking to her brother and sister on the phone from jail are odd. She doesn't sound upset that her daughter is missing. She sounds annoyed that everyone is upset about the missing 2 year old. She does not sound remorseful, hysterical (as I would be), out-of-her-mind batshit crazy that her kid is missing. And then the grandmother goes on Larry King on Tuesday, and talks about how she thinks her daughter is innocent, but then she starts talking in circles too, and none of it really makes sense. Where the fuck is the little girl???? In my gut, I feel mom is involved. I feel she ditched her. Or killed her. Very sad.

I would say that these types of news stories don't normally get to me, but they do. Every day. I don't seek them out on CNN.com or on the evening news, but they are there, every day. And it saddens me. Some days, it really pisses me off, the awful things people do. Other days, it makes me so very sad. Sad enough to want to just curl in the fetal position and cry myself to sleep. Dramatic? No. Just that empathetic.

--Lastly, let's talk a bit about censorship. I have read several people's posts about being concerned that family members, the IT department, co-workers, or bosses will find their blog. I also read someone's blog about a month or so ago, talking about how she was going to shut down her blog because her husband may very well be going into politics, and she would hate for anything she wrote to be used against him.
When I read all these posts, I commented to each of them that they should JUST BE THEMSELVES AND LET EVERYONE ELSE DEAL WITH IT IF THEY DON'T LIKE IT.
But is that the best idea? Can you really write when you feel as though you've got someone looking over your shoulder, that you wouldn't necessarily want knowing all your thoughts? I understand that when you start a blog, you are really putting yourself out there, for the 'whole internet' to see, but I think maybe it's different when you realize that your father has been checking out your blog, or your grandmother. When it's an anonymous person, you aren't worried about censorship (or at least I'm not). I'm not worried that someone won't like what I have to say, because, if you don't like what I wrote, you don't HAVE to come back, right? But when it's a loved one reading your shit, their feelings may get hurt. They may be surprised by what you have to say. And that, is the issue.
I started blogging on Myspace. For myself. It was an outlet, and I knew that people would have access, but that didn't much bother me. It's not like I was blogging about my sex life. I eventually started my blog here, because I wanted to get away from Myspace, and also because I wanted to be part of this awesome community. I wanted to reach out to others, make new friends, gain insight into things, get support. And yes, it is still my outlet, for me. And I could just as easily keep a journal, but I would not have met all the lovely women (and some men too! sorry guys!) if I had not been brave enough to put my shit out there.

So, lovely blogging community, please tell me: Do you censor yourself if you find out someone is reading your blog? Or do you just go for it, and not worry about their feelings? Or, do you go for broke and shut the damn thing down?

And here is my two little teeny raves for the day:

-- I finally won a PiF contest!! Woohoo!!! I won Fiona Picklebottom's contest! Yipeee!!! I get books! I love books! My husband? Not so much. He's sick of seeing them pile up, since the bookcase I got 8 months ago is already bursting. But: Yay me!!

--I was given a cute little blog award by Holly. Look over there ---> to your right. Cute huh? She is such a sweetheart for thinking of me, and if she wasn't 14 bajillion miles away, I would march over to her house right now, beat down her door, give her a big hug, and pinch her cute nose! And share a few bottles of wine. Or rum. Or tequila. You get my drift.

And, here it is! (Drumroll please!)

If you are interested, here's my chapter in Foodie, published today on Wordpress.

Go. Critique. Throw rotten tomatoes at me. Or....sing my praises!

I'll take that too.

Brief vacation, Boot camp frustration, Extended procrastination

Brief vacation:

My brother came in town Friday for my girl's birthday. I took a break from posting, but not really on purpose. I stayed up way late. I ate pretty healthy, other than the carrot cake we all ate with our hands, and the Italian ice cream we had one night. I played the WiiFit, and laughed until I cried at my brother's skinny ass trying to hula hoop. I drank mimosas and ate at odd times of day. If I didn't lose any weight this week, I have a feeling I know why!

****

Boot camp frustration:

Week two of boot camp has come and gone. Last week I busted my ass to eat well, and really enjoyed it. I did eat a greasy burger and greasier fries on my daughter's birthday, but damn it, that's what she wanted, and I caved. And my belly ached after I ate it. Ick.

Boot camp itself was killer. The scattered trainer has some high expectations, which I suppose is good, but I'm in a world of pain in certain areas of my body! She had us doing crazy things outside...I can't even explain or demonstrate, but my body is screaming. Each day, I can barely hike my ass up into my Jeep (if I just say 'car', my girl corrects me: "Mommy, it's a JEEP, not a car!!!" Get it straight!), and I guzzle a 1.5 liter of water during the hour-long class. I felt my legs give out several times on Friday, and I really did push my body to exhaustion.

That being said, my clothes still fit the same. Or should I say?- don't fit the same. It's pretty bad when you ask your girl on her birthday, 'Baby, what do you want to do?' and her reply is this:

'Mommy, I want to go buy you a shirt and shorts that fit you, okay? Then you feel better, okay?'

HOW SAD IS THAT??? She has seen/heard me pitching a fit in my closet, trying to find something that fits somewhat comfortably and looks somewhat decent.

I have kept up my business with the WiiFit, but I refuse to see what it says I weigh. I just cannot bear the thought of busting my ass in boot camp for 4 weeks and ending up in the same damn position I was in 4 weeks ago.

On a brighter note, I do feel better. I have more energy. I feel stronger in my core, in my stomach, and I can feel all the muscles pulsing and flexing when I move now. This morning, I saw the definition in my thighs and calves. LOVELY if I do say so myself!!!

****

Extended procrastination:

My turn has come to write a chapter for the online book titled Foodie. Check it out! The story is great so far, and the idea of different people writing each chapter is brilliant!

However, I was not saying any of this when I got the email saying it was my turn, and I had up to 2 weeks. I was almost in tears, panicking over something I had not yet written. I wrote the first couple of lines right away, and then left it sitting there on my computer screen for almost two weeks. Every time I opened my laptop, there it was, little cursor blinking, waiting for me to continue. And.I.just.couldn't.

Jeez, talk about getting stage fright, or procrastinating, or whatever. So, I finally finished it, the night before the deadline. Yet I still haven't sent it off to the editor, because....well, I don't know! I will send it tomorrow morning, after I sleep on my 1,036 words, and then, well, I guess you all can critique me, throw rotten salmonella-ridden tomatoes at me, or sing my praises. Whatev. At least it's done and over with!

****

And I would like to add, in run-on sentence form:

I have not won a single PiF contest yet, and hello??? I am leaving comments NON-STOP, and I paid an arm and a leg to mail off the package to my PiF contest winner in frickin' London, and seriously, why the hell is it so expensive to ship something over the damn Atlantic Ocean, and I am still so very jealous of all of you that went to BlogHer, I totally feel like I'm 'outside the circle' again, like I did in high school (how lame is THAT???), and Google Reader can bite my ass because it says I have 282 damn posts to read, and jeez-don't any of you do anything besides write??? While I'm here trying to write 1,000 damn words, with nothing to type, and I bounced my flabby ass off at my girl's birthday party, racing my brother and sister through the obstacle courses, dragging my girl up a 20 foot blow-up ladder only to fly down the slide at eardrum-shattering speed (with the speed burn on my ass to prove it!) and HOLY HELL, I am so old! I was panting and gasping and laughing and sweating, and my girl never once seemed to mind that her mom was being a kid with everyone else instead of doing the 'mom thing' and standing around watching all the kids play.

So there.

My bugaboo-

1096 days ago today, you were born. After almost exactly 9 months of thinking about you, you finally arrived. We had a rough start, but you came into this world strong, alert, and hungry (which doesn't surprise me, considering your parents, and the fact that your momma hadn't eaten a meal in about 12 hours!).

From the moment I saw your intense little face, I loved you.

You didn't cry right away, and I remember holding my breath. You had one little squeak of a cry, and then you seemingly locked eyes with your Daddy, and all was silent. As he checked out his baby girl, you examined him.

Those nights in the hospital were rough, but you seemed quite comfortable to be outside in our world.

Those first months were filled with joy, amazement, intense love, gratitude, relief, and grace. You were the easiest baby I ever met, other than those first weeks of breastfeeding struggles, which thank the good Lord, we changed up the day I finally broke down and bought formula. You filled my days with so many new things, and I loved watching you explore your 'firsts'.

I would be lying if I said those first months were not also filled with frustration, exhaustion, tears, confusion, and loneliness. The screeching phase was not a fun one for me. Nor was the 'I must have you in my eyesight at all times, even when you pee' phase. But for each frustrating, confusing time, there was something just as beautiful to cherish: your giggle, your silly cooing, the sparkle in your eye upon recognition of your Daddy, the way you pushed your head into my neck, the brightness of your smile.

I was a new mommy, honey, and you never seemed to mind; I just didn't know what the hell I was doing, even when I did. I have never stopped being so grateful that you have been so easy-going through this wild ride we call your life. Daddy and I have flown by the seat of our pants at times, and you just fly by right along with us. You have been sassy, silly, and laid back through everything, even when you broke your ankle 6 months ago. It was my heart pounding wildly in the doctor's office, not yours.

The past 1096 days have flown by. There were days when I just wished the sun would set, your father would come home from work, and you would go to sleep. Those days dragged by, but mostly, it has flashed right before my eyes. Last night, while bathing you, I realized you are all arms and legs now. You are so tall, so a little girl. And I am sitting here amazed that you are no longer a little baby, but a little girl, with thoughts, dreams, imagination, and desires, that you make known any chance you can.

Tonight I stood in the store, browsing little girls' birthday cards. I found one that had a big 3 on the front of it, and for the tiniest split second, I thought 'Oh wait, she's not 3! She's just a baby!', and then. I realized that you are not a baby, and you are 3. I actually got choked up at this realization again, as I do each time it smacks me in the face.

Bugaboo, you have stolen my heart, and your Daddy's as well. And I can speak for both of us when I say this: We don't mind at all. We love your sass, your independence, your intelligence, your personality, your affection, your charm, your smile, your love.

Happy birthday, baby girl! Your momma loves you more than all the stars in the sky.

Regret the size of my heart

I originally posted this on my blog on myspace August 23, 2006. I read this post by Moo the other day, and it made me think of this one. As of today, I have still never had any response from this person. Yet, this person still shows up in my dreams, and for days afterward, he stays on my mind.
I wonder what we are supposed to do when we are not forgiven. How should we take it? When do we forgive the person for not forgiving us? How? When does my heart stop hurting at the thought of this person, who was a dear friend, and nothing more, this person who will not speak to me, has not spoken to me in over 10 years? How do I forgive myself for ruining a good friendship?How do I just 'let it go'? --

So, I had this really awesome friend in high school. He was so funny, laid back, sweet, athletic, smart,and really loyal. I adored his family. I wanted to live at his house, but I don't recall that I was ever there day after day.....
We continued being friends once we both started college. I even went to hang out with him on his campus during the summer. I enjoyed my time with him there, but was startled to discover something new about him that I had never known before, and it scared the living shit out of me. He begged me to keep it a secret, and not tell anyone. I was so torn. I can't watch someone drown and not lend a hand. Have you seen those commercials that have a kid lying in the middle of the road and his friend sees an 18 wheeler coming, but doesn't move to help his friend in the road? Or the one where the kid is drowning in the lake and the friend is standing on the dock and isn't sure if he should help? They are 'say no to drugs' commercials.
Anyway, I was the person standing on the side of the road, or standing on the dock. I wanted to be as loyal as him, and make a promise that he wanted me to keep. I wanted to keep his secret, and make him happy. But, I couldn't keep my damn mouth shut too much.
He doesn't know this, but when I went home, I spent several days not sleeping...tossing and turning this crap in my mind. I was torn, and I have spent most of my life being torn when it comes to making decisions (damn it! why'd I have to be born a Pisces????). I wanted so badly to keep his secret. As far as I know, he has kept a few of my secrets from high school, so it only seemed fair, right? But if I kept his secret, it would destroy me, and possibly him, so....
I, in a roundabout way, told who needed to know that something was going on. I didn't say exactly what I saw or knew, just enough to get the point across.
And, somehow, we never spoke again. I don't know if we just lost touch, or if he thought I told and was pissed, or if we just grew up and away. I don't really know. But I know that a few years later I found him on Classmates and saw that he was doing sooooo much better.
And now, with the lovely discovery of the black hole that is MySpace, I have found him again...only to get no response. I have no idea if he is angry with me, or is just too busy to chat it up with an old friend, but:
If you are reading this, you know who you are. I am sorry for telling, but really, I am NOT sorry, because I feel that it was the best thing to happen for your sake. I could not have lived with myself if something hideous had happened to you. I did not want to look in your pretty eyes someday and see that the life had been extinguished. I hope you are doing well (seems that you are!) and I hope you can forgive me, if you are angry. I'd love to be friends again.

She might have a problem

We moved the night before Thanksgiving. The house in Springtown was built in the 70's, and for all intents and purposes, had stayed in the 70's. When we bought the house, we got the house full of furniture and mice. The previous owners had done their best to keep up with the mice, but they were elderly, and you could tell that they had lost the battle. There were droppings everywhere. Among the droppings, we also found little chunks of yellow flaky stuff, that strangely resembled dried-up playdoh.
I quickly learned it was rat/mouse poison.

By the time we moved our stuff in that day, the sun had set. Our stuff was everywhere. You could barely see the floor. After the warm welcome from one of our neighbors, I didn't want to let my dogs outside unattended. So they stayed in with us, and after we lost steam trying to unpack and attempting to move the old furniture into the garage, we slept in the living room. My hubby slept on the couch, I slept on the loveseat/chair, between us a sea of boxes and furniture.

I woke up to a dark house, and could hear a crunching sound. I realized that one of the dogs was chewing on something. I assumed that it was one of their porcelain dog bones, as I had unpacked them on a whim. I went back to sleep.

Awhile later, I woke again, to Kooter sitting in front of my chair, his wet nose about 2 inches from mine. Daisy? Nowhere to be found.

I convinced him to lie down, so I could sleep a bit longer. However, I started to hear a crunching sound again. I decided to check up on the sound. I maneuvered my way into the kitchen, only to find Daisy eating something strangely resembling dried-up playdoh.

The fucking dog ate rat poison.

And with the house such a mess, there was no telling where the hell she found it, or how much of it she had eaten.

At 6:30am on Thanksgiving morning, I was frantically calling the animal hospital 20 miles away, trying to find out what the hell I needed to do. I was told 'Your dog will go into convulsions, have seizures, go blind, and then die'. LOVELY.

We spent the better part of our Thanksgiving at an animal hospital about 45 miles away. The only one open anywhere near us. We had to bring both dogs, because we weren't sure if Kooter had eaten any of it. They had to induce vomiting. And Daisy, the dog who not only eats everything, but pukes at the drop of a hat, would not puke. They had to give her the medication twice before she puked up some yellow playdoh shit.

Kooter? No poison in his tummy.

They both got shots in the ass, and were given prescriptions for Vitamin K or some shit like that, to make sure they didn't die in the next month. Do you really want to know how much this set me back??

On the way home, the dogs were in the back of my SUV, with all the seats down. Daisy tried to lie next to Kooter, and he started growling at her. She started to get all submissive 'I'm sorry I put you through hell at the vet's office', but he wasn't buying it. She kept at it, and Kooter attacked her. While we were driving down the highway. Scary fangs, foaming at the mouth, growling, barking, trying to kill his sister.

Daisy flew from the back of the SUV to the front in about .5468 seconds. Fur was flying all over the place, she was drooling everywhere, and she jumped into my lap in the front seat, stuffing her dumb head under my armpit.

Kooter laid in the back the rest of the ride home, growling and shooting her the evil eye any time she peeked out from under my armpit.

Fucking dogs.

Oh, Kashi, how I love thee

Day 3 of boot camp:

I think it went well. I ran my butt off, and got so hot I got the goosebumps, which I guess isn't good? Drank a 1.5 liter of water in that hour. I'm sore as heck, but I'm WIDE AWAKE and feeling like I could do anything right about now. In fact, I just spent the last hour trying to kick my hubby's ass at Mario Cart on the Wii. OMG! I suck at driving, but that game is great!

Anyway, I decided to go back to eating healthy again, because, quite frankly, fast food was really starting to make my stomach turn. I've been eating a ton more fruit, and adding Emerg-C to my water. I'm 'making better food choices', as my trainer says.

I have fallen in love with Kashi. The cereal is awesome. The cookies? Awesome. The snack bars? Awesome. Do they make ice cream? Yogurt? Come on, I.NEED.MORE.KASHI.

The result? Not so awesome.

My stomach is....ahem, gassy, shall we say? All that damn fiber is really doing a number on me!!! TMI, right? But I promised full disclosure, didn't I?

Anyway, I don't think I've lost a pound, and I spent a good 20 minutes trying to find something that fit decent for church, BUT! I feel stronger, more energetic, and my curves look nicer in the mirror.

Progress!!!

********
I've got a couple of technical questions for anyone who cares to help me out.

First, I decided to sign up for Google Analytics. I want to see who is coming regularly, how they find me, how many hits I get when I chat about my bowel issues, that sorta thing. But, I am apparently technologically challenged. I don't know where the frick to put 'the code' in my post. WTF?? And the 'help' section is absolutely no help at all to me. HELP!!!

Second, I have about a year's worth of blogs on myspace. I want to move them over here, because, if I'm allowed to toot my own horn (toot!toot!), some of my stuff is worth reading (Jeez, apparently exercise makes you all self-esteem-y and ballsy!). Do I seriously have to go post by post and import them all that way, or is there some trick of the trade to getting them all at once?? I am high maintenance, huh?

Third, and this really has nothing to do with the blog.....I NEED DRESSES! Casual, flow-y, pretty, not too much of a cleavage show...I can't find cute, bright summer dresses anywhere!!! Where the hell did all you going-to-BlogHer ladies get your dresses? I would prefer not to spend an arm and/or a leg, and I would also, if possible, prefer not to order online, because I WANT THEM NOW (oooohhh, fiesty AND ballsy).

Help! Help??