I worked all day, came home, made chicken pepperoni for the Rottenator, and checked up on Facebook to see all of the exciting plans that my friends and family had for the evening and realized: this is going to be my life.
For good or for bad, this is it. I always get down after the holidays; this year is no different. I'm still sitting her, less than an hour until 2013, hoping that something will happen. The Rottenator will have tucked away a small surprise, gesture of love or affection, but as he stares transfixed at yet another football game, the likelihood of that happening lessens.
So tomorrow, I will get up, I will clean the house, make the traditional Southern Good Luck New Year meal of ham, collard greens (my first attempt at this hideous concoction), hoppin' john, and cornbread and go to sleep and prepare for another day of work.
Rinse and repeat.
This year, I am sober, relatively healthy, relatively comfortable, and still filled with an unshakable, nagging depression that just won't go away.
I hope it is the holiday blues, and I truly hope that this New Year brings everyone health, happiness, love and life.
Christmas was nice but over too soon. I did manage to make it to my sister's for a very brief visit but it was awesome waking up and seeing the kids all get their Christmas gifts.
Of which there were many; you can read about that here and see a god awful pic of me as well. I am beginning to think that my sister is passively-aggressively taking out latent hostility towards me which is left over from my supposed torturing of her in our earlier days. Either that, or she's just not a very good picture taker. But I love her anyway ;-)
Work is still exhausting. The Rottenator asked how I could be so exhausted from just sitting and talking on the phone all day and it's kinda hard to explain how mentally draining this job is to someone who doesn't understand it. Hell, I don't understand what I'm doing half of the time...which adds to the exhaustion. The best way to explain my job is to imagine sitting for 8 hours a day doing math problems. Word math problems. When you're not good at math.
Pretty much sums it up.
So, 2013 is upon us. And I know, everyone says, "Oh, I'm not going to make resolutions; it's so stupid and predictable and everyone makes resolutions, so I'm going to be different and contrary and not make any." Well, to those people, I say "fuck off, loser, stop trying to be contrary and different because now the fad is to NOT make resolutions so you're still a poser who's just trying to be different for the sake of being different."
So I'm making them. Because I'm edgy and cool. I saw this on Facebook the other day and because I was having a particularly bad one where I doubted everything and was hating my life and questioning my existence on this planet and my purpose in life, I reposted it.
And though it may be cheesy and sentimental, I still feel that way. It's the most difficult resolution of all, however, isn't it?
So, onto other ones, some more or less difficult, some more or less realistic and serious.
In no particular order:
I'm still kinda serious about the 365 milkshakes taste-test in 365 days. Perhaps it will lead to a book deal and not the life-threatening diabetes which is probably the more realistic outcome.
Lose (not loose, grammatical idiots) 40 lbs which is in direct conflict with the resolution above. Also, eat healthier so I feel better and not sickly and tired all the time.
Doctors appointments: mammogram, physical, gynecologist, dentist, top to bottom check out. Bloodwork included.
Celebrate my birthday at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios. I have not yet celebrated my fourth decade on earth as a monumental occasion, so I may as well make this the one.
Start writing again; even if that means nothing more than updating this blog more faithfully. It gives me a creative outlet and keeps my brain from stagnating.
So far, that's the list. I'm not going to go crazy with it, because then I'll look back on it as a insurmountable, unachievable list of "things I will never accomplish so fuck it all!" and not do a damn one of them, so let's keep it simple, stupid.
So, less of a list of resolutions and more of a touchstone of goals that I need to keep focused on. That works for me.
Mood Ring(tone) of the Day:
Sidebar: I know nothing of this band, or any of their other songs; I just know that Pandora played it on my station today and I must say: great job Pandora! Usually the songs they pick for me at random are totally like, WTF, seriously?!? How do you get Michael Buble from my stating that I like Oasis and Blur, but whatever...
This one was different, though. Very catchy. Foster the People. I'm afraid to research them for fear of ruining my enjoyment of this catchy little ditty.
Update: of course, I had to read up on the band. Good news: I'm still okay with them! Better news: I found a song I like that's only a couple of years old.
Kinda funny: they played this song on the Vampire Diaries. Which explains why I had visions of myself dancing around in my bra and underwear getting drunk with Damon Salvatore. And why I looked like Buffy Summers.
Ooooh, another update: I'm suddenly 16 years old just looking at these two together.
Another resolution: get really hot, be 20 years old, and have a devastatingly handsome and dangerous vampire boyfriend. Noted.
I have a lot to say and not a lot of energy to say it.
I am exhausted. From work, which has kicked into overdrive, and from my own explicable depression during one of my (normally) favorite times of the year.
Yes, I've seen the lights...pictures to follow...if I feel up to it...
And adored them. But God bless him, though the Rottenator has tried very hard to participate in my (admittedly) insane over-enjoyment of this holiday season, it's just not in him.
He doesn't get it. He doesn't get Christmas at all. It does not excite him, enthuse him, or bring him one iota of joy. At all. And this kills me. I just...don't...get it.
I mean, I understand it to a certain extent. He does not have the happy memories of Christmas and presents and family and presents and Santa and presents and trees and lights and presents that I have. His memories are unpleasant and heart breaking, and I'm not going to get into all of that here, but I did think that this year, a year that we're doing relatively well financially, one that he participated in at least one holiday family gathering, that he might just show a little more interest in all of the spectacle and pageantry.
But no. And I don't blame him, I can't blame him, but it doesn't stop me from wanting him to be a different person this time of year. One that can share in my joy of watching the Grinch, or laugh over Christmas vacation, or cry over the Little Drummer Boy.
The Rottenator is the Grinch. The Rottenator is Frank Cross.
By the way, Scrooged pretty much tops my list of favorite holiday movies.
Followed closely by this one; it's a pretty long scene, but go ahead and fast forward to about
1:45 into it. Oh, it's the best line ever.
Sorry, where was I? Oh yes, my holiday depression over my job and the Rottenator's lack of Christmas cheer. Eh, screw it. I just cheered myself up a bit by watching the clips above so I'm going to quit moaning and bitching and just randomly list some things that are going on with me right now.
My job doesn't quite suck but it is mentally draining. And I'm angry and bitter over the fact that we're working mandatory overtime, we are not getting the free lunches that were promised (unless you count a mini-snickers and a single serving bag of Doritos lunch) and the Rottenator (the boy who hated Christmas) is getting two weeks off from his job. Life isn't fucking fair.
The Nooge systematically destroyed all of my Christmas decorations and the Rottenator wouldn't help me hang lights so I ripped down everything, threw the crumpled fake tree into our spare bedroom and dramatically proclaimed this domicile as the "House that Santa Forgot!"
I picked out my own Christmas present today. I bought myself a lovely 10 piece set of Better Homes and Gardens pots and pans. I was very generous with myself, and really, I am the best gift giver ever.
I discovered that using a brush to apply foundation is AMAZING and I am both angry and amazed I have never tried this before.
I bought myself new makeup brushes and foundation for Christmas. Do go on, Kathleen, you are far too generous and kind for words.
I am wrapping everyone's gifts in left-over birthday wrapping paper. They shall look crappy and not at all festive. Hell, even if they were wrapped in swaddling clothes like baby Jebus they would still look craptacular. I am not a good present wrapper. It's the thought and the gift inside of the box that counts.
I have an amazing idea for a new book, as well as a New Year's Resolution I will surely keep. The title is tentatively called "365 Milkshakes in 365 Days". I will begin on 01/01/13 and will do a taste test of a different flavor of a milkshake from various establishments and review them all. This will also set me up for my 2014 New Year's Resolution tentatively called "My Milkshake No Longer Brings All the Boys to the Yard or How I lost 365 pounds in 365 days".
Well, I'd like to take a minute to bitch about the religious agenda. More specifically, the Southern Baptist political agenda of a certain church that exists right down the street from me.
Yes, Breezy Hill Southern Baptist Church, I'm looking at you.
It seemed innocent enough. For weeks they have been creating this grand spectacle of lights. SO grand, in fact, that I made the Rottenator stop by one night before they'd even opened so we could get a closer look. We were hurried out, politely but firmly, and told to return the following Wednesday when they officially opened . The Rottenator had to work that night, so I waited...patiently...every night, passing by this on the way home, taunting me with the wondrous spectacle I would soon be able to explore.
Fast forward to Friday. It started off well enough. This is the archway you walk through to (supposedly) get to the wondrous display.
And then, to further tease us...
But then...a problem...you can kinda see it in the second picture up there...
Oh yeah. You were not gonna get out of this without hearing the word of the Lord, heathen. It was then that I began to realize that there was no Santa in sight in this cacophony of lights.
The second not so subtle hint came when we were corralled like cattle into a building that was eerily reminiscent of Jonestown.
Yes. Sit and listen to our message and then maybe we will allow you to be thrown onto the back of a tractor and hurdled through a maze of lights at breakneck speed where you will be treated to refreshments at the end of it.
The Rottenator was not having it, and I for once, was with him. Bear in mind, he was only there out of protest because of me and my love of all things sparkly and bright, so he was ready to snap anyway.
Besides, we had a barbeque buffet to get to that he had been fantasizing about all day and god dammit, we were not going to miss it.
So after we walked the walk of the Damned back to the parking lot in the opposite flow of traffic, I had a few minutes to indulge my disappointment...and then I got pissed.
But even as I wrote that previous sentence, I'm now thinking...WHY exactly? Why am I pissed that this church decided to put on a light (free, mind you) display in order to recruit welcome visitors to their place of worship and perhaps gain a few members?
I shouldn't be, I guess. There were no false pretenses. I mean, there were no signs saying you would have to sit and listen to a few Christmas songs before enjoying the lights, but hey, it is a church, a Southern Baptist one at that, and I should have known that there is always a catch or a hidden agenda when it comes to those people.
And if it seems that I'm bitter towards Southern Baptists in particular, you're god damn right I am. I've known more than a few Southern Baptists in my time and have always found them to be the most judgemental self-righteous people on the planet who are more than eager to tell you that you are going straight to hell if you don't believe in their doctrine completely.
But it's not just them; it's organized religion in general that I have an extreme distrust and dislike of. Because much like political beliefs, there is no actual logic behind them. It has always been my policy to avoid discussing religion and politics with anyone I don't know very well because there is no rational thought process involved when it comes to beliefs and you are not going to change anyone's mind, and someone is gonna get pissed off, so why bother?
Especially as I am usually the one who ends up pissed off, and no longer respecting or liking someone I once considered a friend or relative.
So it's safer to leave those two topics off the table.
Bottom line, the first attempt at Christmas light viewing was a bust. Except for the occasional view of a tackily decorated house in my neighborhood, because lemme tell you, no one decorates like a low-income person. I mean that it the best possible way. Why is it that the more money you have the more boring your Christmas decorations become? I have no time for white lights or Martha-Stewart-esque natural wreaths. Bring on the multi-colored seizure inducing explosion of color, that's what I'm talking about!
So, we're going to try again tomorrow. To a more secular celebration of the Holiday Season.
So, Thanksgiving has come and gone, and I have to say...it went better than expected.
Not that the Rottenator wasn't horrible. Lemme tell you, that one was trying to get out of going to my fam's house until the very second we were in the driveway and he was pouting: "You don't care, you don't care, I don't want to do this and you just don't care!"
Well, it's too late now, buddy, get out of the fucking car.
And though he would never admit it, he actually had (dare I say it) a good time. At least a good time for him.
But the weeks leading up to it, his impending doom, were god awful. He was like a petulant child, a loud bully, and a grumpy old man all balled into one.
I really wasn't sure if our relationship was going to handle it. He did not understand how important him meeting my family was to me, and I had no idea of the sheer panic and terror coursing through his veins at the very thought of spending the day with a "bunch of strangers".
He honestly almost had a heart attack. I have been known to suffer from a bit of social anxiety myself, but never had I witnessed someone about to have a full blown panic attack over the thought of, in my eyes, hanging out with people who are basically going to be a part of our lives for a long, long time.
Sickly green, clammy, sweaty, riding in silence, I was beginning to wonder if it was really worth it. But I also knew that once he got there, it would be fine. It would be good for him, and it was completely necessary if we were going to be together.
Melodramatic on both of our parts, I know.
But it was such a good time. My sister and brother in law were the perfect hosts, and by the time the day was ending, there was smack talk about upcoming football games (thank God everyone's teams won), and the Rottenator was helping himself to food and walking around, and my niece, the 6 year old flirt, was flinging stuffed animals in his direction.
All signs of a successful gathering. And the best part? I didn't have to suffer any consequences! In fact, I was told that even though it certainly wasn't going to be an every weekend kind of a thing, the Rottenator wouldn't be completely opposed to attending such an event again! And no, I do not have any photographic evidence to prove that this momentous event actually happened, because I didn't want to push my luck, so you'll have to just take my word for it.
Needless to say, I am thrilled. I can't promise a Christmas reunion this year, but the possibilities are endless.
Speaking of Christmas, what the fuck is this?
Sacrilegious, that's what it is.
Also speaking of Christmas, because of this:
We will not be having a tree this year. Bummer. I love a Christmas tree, but I also don't want to spend every second of every day keeping a certain someone from knocking it over or climbing up it. So, plans are in the works to have a tree outside on our side porch.
In the meantime, I've got this on our front door:
And I've decorated every inch of our house with lights. I took most of these pics in the dark, because the lights are so much glowier that way (except the first one, obvs...)
And now...to the worst part of the holiday season.
We ventured forth to the 9th circle of hell (aka Walmart) to witness the spectacle of Black Friday because the Rottenator had never witnessed it before. As he watched with open-mouthed shock at the dregs of humanity that knocked each other over for $5 video games, I stood out of harms way and took horrified pictures.
This is the exact opposite of what I think the holiday season should be about.
See, I love Christmas. The Rottenator does not understand this because he does not have happy memories of Christmas. To me, Christmas is not just about giving gifts, or getting great bargains, or Santa, or Jesus, or the lack thereof.
I still hold onto the belief that Christmas is the time that we, as people, (in general), treat each other as we should treat each other every other day of the year. Yes, I have worked retail during the holidays, and, yes I have been yelled at or cursed out because we didn't have the newest or hottest toy in stock at rock bottom prices for parents consumed with the obsession of fulfilling their little spoiled brat's every superficial dream.
But still I manage to hold onto the feeling that at Christmas: everything is beautiful and sparkly, and magical, and if it makes just one more person treat another a little better than they normally would on an average day, then it's worth it to celebrate. No matter what religion you follow...or don't follow.
Cheesy? Probably. Sappy and sentimental, absolutely. And I don't care.
I mean, seriously, watch this video and tell me you don't feel a little bit happier today.
Two more days of work this week and then I'm off for a lovely Thanksgiving holiday. I'm really looking forward to it this year, possibly more so than Christmas even. This probably has something to do with the fact that since my change of career, I won't get much time off for Christmas this year. And by much, I mean barely any other than Christmas day.
However, I was lucky enough to score the Friday after Turkey Day off so not only am I looking forward to an extended weekend off, this year marks the first time that this guy...
will meet these people...
Needless to say, I am uber excited. The Rottenator is less enthused. I believe his comment was, and I quote, "I'd rather poke my eyes out with a dull butterknife."
He is not a social person. Sociopath, maybe. Sociable, no. But it's high time he meet the fam. I mean, it's pretty obvious he's not going anywhere any time soon and I am very close to my family, so he just needs to suck it up.
Besides, he's gonna be watching a day of college football with a fellow SEC enthusiast who has testicles, so that's gotta be fun, right? Even though their two teams may just be playing each other for the championship game, but thank God, that's not until December, so that definitely lessens the possibility of smack talk that gets deadly serious. And luckily we don't own guns. And the alcohol supply will be limited.
And there will be food. Oh, yes, there will be.
Turkey
Ham
Mac and cheese
Mashed potatoes
Green bean casserole
Stuffing (or dressing, as the rednecks like to call it)
Cranberry Sauce
Cheesecake
Artichoke Dip
Little smokies in bbq sauce
And though the turkey may not be stuffed, I sure as hell will be.
I just hope it doesn't turn out like this.
But if it turned out like this, that would be pretty awesome.
My Mood Ring(tone) of the Day...
PS: the only version I could find of this was in Italian but if you've seen this movie as many times as I have, you'll know the English by heart.
So...I'm sure this was accidental, but I can't help but notice that while you were playing with my favorite toy, Mr. Broom, you may have inadvertently locked me in the laundry room.
I see that you were cleaning, so I decided to do my part.
What? I'm helping!
I mean, seriously, I was just doing my part. Perhaps you misunderstood me. Must you lock me behind these bars? Madam, I demand my release post haste!
Please?
Honestly, I was just trying to help. Now, I shall retire to my throne. This unjust imprisonment has exhausted me.
So, this morning, I couldn't find my cell phone (because I often have to store it in awkward, forgettable places in order to keep it from the Nooge's destructive grasp while getting ready for work, natch) and I grabbed the Rottenator's phone in order to call my own.
As one is wont to do...
And as I searched through his contact list to find my own #, I found that this was the picture he was using in place of the little Android bug to indicate it was me, his perfect precious princess, (as he often refers to me...in my imagination) calling:
*sigh* I guess I'll keep him.
Now, I just need to find a reason to keep the feral barn cat that masquerades as my catten.
And incidentally, I need to post another pic of my hair. I got it cut and thanks to a hairdresser with curly hair and a knack for talking people into purchasing products, I've gotten SOOO many compliments on it.
I just have to wait until I have the energy to dye it so my gray roots aren't showing so much.
Work is still exhausting. If you knew me, you'd be stunned, terrified, dare I say, to know that I just may be controlling your paycheck. Muahahhaha! (insert diabolical laugh here).
Because, this pretty much sums up my numerical skills:
All for now; here's to a weekend of bbq, the Barnyard, and bleeding like a stuck pig.
TMI? Okay, sorry, should have left out the bbq part.
My Mood Ring(tone) of the Day:
But before I get to that, open letter to Pandora:
Seriously? I create a station where the "root" groups are Suede, Blur, Pulp, Oasis, Radiohead, Coldplay, Mumford and Sons, and the Sex Pistols, and suddenly you're throwing Train, Nirvana and Daughtry at me? What the what?!??! There needs to be a little more pattern to your randomness, please.
Don't get me wrong, I do love the Rottenator, but at times...a lot of times, actually, that mofo gets on my fucking nerves more than any other creature in existence on the planet.
Other than the Nooge.
This may or may not occur predictably at a certain time on a monthly basis (how dare you even insinuate this may be hormonal), but I'm just saying there are times when I can put up with his shit, there are other times when I want to suffocate him in his sleep.
And not just to stop his snoring.
So today, I'm making a list of Things that the Rottenator May Do or Say that Continually Threaten His Existence on this Planet.
In no particular order.
Sneezes loudly, and randomly, without covering his mouth or nose and thereby simultaneously frightening me, pissing me off, and disgusting me when I unexpectedly encounter the remnants of his nasal explosions on bed covers, blankets, bathroom mirrors, and car windows.
Rarely or barely tips. Hair stylists, waiters, waitresses, taxi drivers, delivery people, charity workers, no one is immune to his cheapness.
Commandeers the television and watches nothing but ESPN, old football games on YouTube, prison reality shows, or Xbox.
Refuses to accept the fact that WE NEED TWO WORKING VEHICLES to transport ourselves to and from OUR JOBS.
Will blow $40 on one meal, yet has a conniption fit when $100 is spent at the grocery store on 7 days (i.e., 21 separate meals) worth of food.
Instigates fights because he's bored.
Expects a parade when he (gasp, shock) washes a single glass, or reassembles bedsheets after he has qwopped them up.
Grows irritable and tired of a project after 5 minutes and slaps together an entertainment center backwards without taking the time to read the directions then yells when it isn't praised as the most beautiful thing in the world.
Can't bring himself to spend $400 on a new tv, then manages to make it my fault that we don't have one.
Manages to be more sensitive than any 16 year old girl I've ever met then accuses others of being the "overly sensitive one".
Refuses to do even the most menial traditionally "male" jobs around the house, forcing me to be the one to take the trashcan to the curb, change the lightbulbs, or pick up pinecones from the yard.
Uses the excuse "I'm just not good at that kind of stuff" when being "forced" to buy me a birthday present while not exactly appreciating the thought and care it took into buying him a commemorative 1982 Bear Bryant coca-cola bottle or an authentic Trent Richardson Nike Alabama collegiate jersey.
Considers buying necessities for the house such as toilet paper, cleaning products, or cat food, me spending money on myself.
Acting like the world, including myself, "owes" him something, when he hasn't done a damn thing to earn any of it.
And the list could go on...and on...but I'm tired tonight, because I worked all day. Yes, I work a full time job, 5 days a week, yet still manage to cook, and clean and run errands instead of laying around on my ass all day bitching and moaning about how hard my job is and I shouldn't have to do anything on my day off.
Really?!?!?! Really.
Suffice to say, I'm a little tired of the whole fucking thing. Perhaps I'll feel differently tomorrow.
And no, for once, I am not talking about my monthly "troubles", I'm talking about my jinx...which I guess could also be considered my monthlies, but I digress.
I am not a sports player, nor necessarily an all-around sports fan. In fact, I didn't really learn to appreciate college football until about three years ago, when the Rottenator barged into my life.
However, I have been known to follow a sports figure or team now or again. Jim Courier comes prominently to mind. Have you ever heard of him? He's a tennis player, he won a few Opens, probably could have won a grand slam, all four Opens in the same year, but he never did. Know why? Because I became a fan. He retired soon after. A loser.
The list is long of the teams, actors, actresses, athletes, bands, all who have ended up losing that cherished trophy or broken up because I suddenly developed an interest in them.
I'm pretty sure I single-handedly brought down the entire genre of Brit Pop. You're either welcome, or I'm sorry. Whichever fits.
So this brings me to this weekend. Normally, I am an Alabama fan. Luckily, they seem immune to my curse so far but I think that's mostly due to the Rottenator and his undying life-long love for them. His powers far outreach my own when it comes to things like that. He is the Yoda to my Obi-Wan. Thank God. Because they are looking unstoppable so far this year...knock on wood. For the love of God.
The Gamecocks...not so much.
I attended my first college football game yesterday, at my sister's alma mater, the University of South Carolina. The Gamecocks. They have been having a really good season this year, with the exception of the past two weeks where they lost a nail-biter to LSU, and a smackdown by Florida. But, this weekend, they were playing at home, against the Tennessee Volunteers, and it was pretty much a given that they were going to win.
Which they did...barely...but not without a great deal of damage.
This is Marcus Lattimore.
He is an amazingly talented running back for Carolina. He practically wins most of their games for them by himself.
This is Marcus Lattimore yesterday, during the game that I attended.
Yeah...so...sorry? I'm not saying that I'm bad luck or anything but I'm freakin' bad luck! Well, I can at least take solace in the fact that I'm not the WORST luck, because if that were the case, then I would have taken out Jadaveon Clowney too and the entire season would have been a wash, but as it is, Tennessee has far worse luck than even I can conflict on a team, so they ended up fumbling in the last few minutes of the game, and Carolina ended up winning.
Though I do have a fondness for Tennessee's coach, Derek Dooley. And losing that game yesterday probably cost him his job.
Oh God.
That being said, the Rottenator and I had a really good time. And here are the pics to prove it! And no, it didn't rain. Yet as cloudy as it was, I ended up with a sunburn. Yes, I am the palest girl on the planet. However, now, I am a bonafide redneck.
The Rottenator...and a handsome young man in an Atari shirt
Whoever said "Money can't buy happiness" was obviously an obnoxiously rich depressed fuck or some hairy arm-pitted hippy, because, lemme tell you, having a little bit of scratch does make the world better.
No, the Rottenator and I are not rolling in it yet, but our financial situation is more stable than it has ever been in the entire time we've been together, and although we still have our quibbles and squabbles, our relationship is better too.
Because you know what? Money can buy a reliable car, dinners at mid-scales buffets, a little peace of mind, and lots of cat treats and e-cig accessories.
Which leads to less stress. And less stress = less violently angry Rottenator which makes the world a more enjoyable place.
The way to a man's heart truly is through his stomach...and his love of football.
Which why this jersey:
And tickets to this game this weekend:
are probably the best purchases of my life.
Other than this:
In other me related news, I had a great time at my sister's house this weekend, babysitting her chirren:
who are just the most hilarious and beautiful children in the word. It was my sister's birthday, so I purchased these for her (she's a Gamecock and Bill Murray fan, obvs):
In fact, I don't believe I would be exaggerating if I were to say that Bill Murray needs to hire extra security.
Just sayin'.
So anyhoo, things are still going well. New trainer at work, hurrah! Which makes it a lot better. Speaking of that, I think that the US of A needs to rethink it's work schedule. Or at least my company does, because 4 days on/3 days off leaves me much more motivated. In fact, even after a weekend away from home, I still managed to do laundry, clean the house, go to the grocery store, and post some mail. Having a free day during the normal "work week" should be a routine...for me, of course, not for everyone else, because then I wouldn't be able to get my shit done, which would defeat the purpose.
To recap:
New car...
New washer and dryer...
New accessories for the car...
Life is pretty darn okay right now. Only two things would make it complete...
I'll feel up to writing a real post but until then, brief update:
Things are going well; very well. New car, new cell phone, new washer and dryer, work is okay, new license, got my nails did, the Nooge is still driving me crazy, the Rottenator is as well, and I'm okay with being 41. In fact, I'd forgotten about turning 41...until now. Dammit.
I went to Carowinds with my sis and her fam last weekend for my niece's birthday. It was SOOO much fun, and I'm stealing a photo from her site to show just how much fun I had:
Me and Vic
I need to see the dentist
Could I be any toothier?
Incidentally, I rode EVERY rollercoaster, something I never would have done 100 lbs ago and I found out that I LOVE it. It's addicting...and with me having an addictive personality...well, let's just say there are worse things to be addicted to.
I did manage to convince my sister onto one rollercoaster and it was all fun and games til we saw the pictures. You know the ones that they snap of you at certain points of the ride? Well, let's just say that while my sister and I felt like this as we were riding the coasters:
The reality was much more like this:
And this:
Needless to say...we passed on purchasing the pics.
