I'm excited. Is that a bad thing?
The Redhead and I sign the lease tomorrow for a new place. It's a cute little one bedroom, and my favorite thing about it... it's right smack dab in the middle of town. Four houses down from the building Redhead lived in when I met him, no less.
This is a Very Good Thing. We be poor. We've gotten used to this. So we have to walk everywhere (which, might I add, sucks hardcore when there's six inches of snow on the ground and I have REALLY crappy balance. I bust my ass so often it ain't even funny). But when we lived with Roomie and Princess... it made walking anywhere difficult. The closest gas station was a mile and a half away, and it's close to four miles to the middle of town where everything is. Like Redhead's work. And any place that might even remotely consider hiring me. So, I can finally get back on the job hunt and get something done, for once.
Job hunting was difficult to do when Roomie takes his truck to class... then immediately goes to work... leaving me with no way to at least get into town. If I can get into town, I can hoof it around town easily. Not so much on the actual GETTING INTO TOWN.
Anyway. The apartment. Middle of town. Close to everything. Small enough to be cheap ($350 a month... I love living in a small town because rent is so damned cheap), but big enough that we can live comfortably (Redhead was living in a one-room studio apartment when I met him... The bedroom at the apartment we're leaving is bigger than this place was. Yeah. Fucking tiny.). I am, shall we say, IN LOVE with this place.
I'm also excited because... this is the first place where the lease is going in my name. The utilities are in my name. It's MY place. The landlord is cool as hell, and real down to earth, willing to work with us on everything. He met me before reading my application, and when I actually turned in an app, he glanced at it, nodded, and said, "Okay. You can have that place. You seem like a good girl, just looking for a small place to start your life out. I think we can work together on this."
Easy as that. OMIGAWD!
I'm also (extremely) delighted to not have a room mate anymore. Roommates are... annoying as piss. You can start out being friends, but by the time your combined confinement is over with, they are the last person on the face of the planet you ever want to see again. I've had several room mates in the two years since I moved to this town, and god DAMN I will be glad to not have to deal with them any longer.
No roommates. In the middle of town. My first real place that's MINE.
I'm a happy camper.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Shit!
Well. The laptop is trying to die. And me, being the soulless bitch that I am, won't let it.
Granted, the thing is fucking HUGE (17" widescreen monitor), it's about four years old, and I'm the third owner. The original owner was a coach at the high school I went to, then it went to my father, and was passed on to me.
In all honesty, it's about time it DID die. I understand this.
I also know that if I have no way to play the music on my external hard drive, I will go absolutely bat-shit crazy. If I have no way to type up the stories that cross my mind, I will climb the walls.
Yes, I know. I'm pathetic in the fact that I can't survive without technology. I needs my music and my writing. It's very cleansing for me. I'm not the only one.
Eeeesh.
Granted, the thing is fucking HUGE (17" widescreen monitor), it's about four years old, and I'm the third owner. The original owner was a coach at the high school I went to, then it went to my father, and was passed on to me.
In all honesty, it's about time it DID die. I understand this.
I also know that if I have no way to play the music on my external hard drive, I will go absolutely bat-shit crazy. If I have no way to type up the stories that cross my mind, I will climb the walls.
Yes, I know. I'm pathetic in the fact that I can't survive without technology. I needs my music and my writing. It's very cleansing for me. I'm not the only one.
Eeeesh.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Stupid with Money
The economy is in the shitter. This is no big surprise to anyone. And if it is, what rock have you been hiding under and is there enough room for me?
Well, I don't know if life works this way for everybody, but for a lot of the folks in my immediate circle, it's like this: If it doesn't directly effect me, it really... doesn't exist. Like a horse with blinders on. Not the smartest thing, I know, but a lot of people are like that. It's just an abstract concept, it's not real.
Friday, it became a whole lot of real for us at the House of Snark.
I got up at 6 AM and took the Redhead to work. Didn't take my phone with me, got home to a text message from him saying "Hey, I left my time card in my wallet, would you bring it to me?" Of course, I didn't discover this until I was back at home, out of my clothes and curled back up in bed. Ugh. Up, get dressed, out into the cold again... I'm so inconvenienced. How can people do this to me?!
(That's sarcasm, if you didn't notice it)
Take it to him, go BACK home, curl back up in bed, try to get a couple more hours of sleep. Blessed, blessed sleep. I'm so tired all the time. I hear that's part of the *joy* of pregnancy, so oh well. Not much I can do about it now, huh?
Around 9:30... the door bell rings. I wake up, but none of my friends ring the door bell, so I don't move. My friends also text me and let me know they're coming over, and I tell them to just come on in. I know it's not for me, so I don't worry about it. Close my eyes, try to go back to sleep. It rings again. Apparently, Princess isn't awake. Oh wait. The door's opening. She must be.
I can hear the door bell to our neighbor's place ring, and a few moments later, Neighbor Guy's Mustang starts up and squeals tires out of the lot. Roomie appears shortly thereafter, then him and the Princess take off. I'm awake by now, with the feeling that something Isn't Right. Text Roomie to ask what's wrong. "I'll tell you in a bit."
Definitely Not Right. But oh well, it's just about time for me to wake up anyway. I have to take a bath to shave, then a shower to wash my hair. I can't do it all together because the water heater doesn't offer enough hot water for me to shave AND wash. I got stuff to worry about.
I grab a bite to eat and start some music up, and set about getting myself fully woken up. Just as I start running some hot water for a bath, Roomie and Princess come home. Time to find out what's up.
"That dude you told me about last week? He wasn't jerking your chain. We have thirty days to move out. The building has been foreclosed on and we are being evicted."
....Shit.
Apparently, the man that owns the building we live in lives out in California. Where the economy is a lot more difficult to live with, considering the higher cost to simply survive. And we all know how foreclosure works. It's pretty self-explanatory, I think.
Thankfully, the management company cut us a check immediately for the security deposit, since they were being forced to terminate our lease. Half of it's ours, half belongs to Roomie and Princess. The check is sitting in Roomie's account, waiting to clear at the moment. Gives us a little bit of a start on saving, for the new place. First month's rent plus security deposit adds up fast, and in thirty days time? That's REALLY pushing the line.
So here I am, worrying about how to make it all work with the cash, in addition to the fact that neither me nor the Redhead have a rental history, nor do we have good credit to speak of. That tends to make finding an apartment to rent... a little difficult.
ACK!!!
Thankfully, Redhead's tax return came in. So now we're sitting on a grand of extra cash that we weren't expecting to have, and it helps as far as the whole "pressed-for-time-to-save-and-move" issue.
Still gonna have difficulty actually QUALIFYING for a place, though.
So, yeah. Economic problems have come home to roost.
Well, I don't know if life works this way for everybody, but for a lot of the folks in my immediate circle, it's like this: If it doesn't directly effect me, it really... doesn't exist. Like a horse with blinders on. Not the smartest thing, I know, but a lot of people are like that. It's just an abstract concept, it's not real.
Friday, it became a whole lot of real for us at the House of Snark.
I got up at 6 AM and took the Redhead to work. Didn't take my phone with me, got home to a text message from him saying "Hey, I left my time card in my wallet, would you bring it to me?" Of course, I didn't discover this until I was back at home, out of my clothes and curled back up in bed. Ugh. Up, get dressed, out into the cold again... I'm so inconvenienced. How can people do this to me?!
(That's sarcasm, if you didn't notice it)
Take it to him, go BACK home, curl back up in bed, try to get a couple more hours of sleep. Blessed, blessed sleep. I'm so tired all the time. I hear that's part of the *joy* of pregnancy, so oh well. Not much I can do about it now, huh?
Around 9:30... the door bell rings. I wake up, but none of my friends ring the door bell, so I don't move. My friends also text me and let me know they're coming over, and I tell them to just come on in. I know it's not for me, so I don't worry about it. Close my eyes, try to go back to sleep. It rings again. Apparently, Princess isn't awake. Oh wait. The door's opening. She must be.
I can hear the door bell to our neighbor's place ring, and a few moments later, Neighbor Guy's Mustang starts up and squeals tires out of the lot. Roomie appears shortly thereafter, then him and the Princess take off. I'm awake by now, with the feeling that something Isn't Right. Text Roomie to ask what's wrong. "I'll tell you in a bit."
Definitely Not Right. But oh well, it's just about time for me to wake up anyway. I have to take a bath to shave, then a shower to wash my hair. I can't do it all together because the water heater doesn't offer enough hot water for me to shave AND wash. I got stuff to worry about.
I grab a bite to eat and start some music up, and set about getting myself fully woken up. Just as I start running some hot water for a bath, Roomie and Princess come home. Time to find out what's up.
"That dude you told me about last week? He wasn't jerking your chain. We have thirty days to move out. The building has been foreclosed on and we are being evicted."
....Shit.
Apparently, the man that owns the building we live in lives out in California. Where the economy is a lot more difficult to live with, considering the higher cost to simply survive. And we all know how foreclosure works. It's pretty self-explanatory, I think.
Thankfully, the management company cut us a check immediately for the security deposit, since they were being forced to terminate our lease. Half of it's ours, half belongs to Roomie and Princess. The check is sitting in Roomie's account, waiting to clear at the moment. Gives us a little bit of a start on saving, for the new place. First month's rent plus security deposit adds up fast, and in thirty days time? That's REALLY pushing the line.
So here I am, worrying about how to make it all work with the cash, in addition to the fact that neither me nor the Redhead have a rental history, nor do we have good credit to speak of. That tends to make finding an apartment to rent... a little difficult.
ACK!!!
Thankfully, Redhead's tax return came in. So now we're sitting on a grand of extra cash that we weren't expecting to have, and it helps as far as the whole "pressed-for-time-to-save-and-move" issue.
Still gonna have difficulty actually QUALIFYING for a place, though.
So, yeah. Economic problems have come home to roost.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Musings
Picked this one up from Breda, who I am currently digging through the archives to soak up as much as I can, in my usual "Zomg a new blog for me to read!" fashion. She is teh amazing, and I thoroughly enjoy reading her.
As we have come to realize, I hang out at Country Kitchen. A lot. There's nothing to do at home, there's no internet, I'm not a big fan of watching TV, and I've even gotten so bored that I've zipped through the collection of my room mate's cheesy romance novels. How sad is THAT? I know!. So every chance I get, I haul myself and my big ol' honkin-ass laptop to Country Kitchen to stuff myself full of soda (because coffee upsets my stomach when I drink too much of it on an empty stomach, and I'm actually affected by it now and it scares the Redhead to watch me tweak out on coffee, lolz), and surf the internet for hours on end. Which usually results in me finding at least ONE new blogger to read every few days, which tons and tons of archives to go through. Breda is the most recent, and I am diligently perusing her archives. Have faith!
I have had a very mild interest in guns and shooty goodness for a few months now. Nothing serious, of course, just... it had piqued my interest.
Then I stumbled upon Breda. Oh boy.
In the past 24 hours, my interest has seriously jacked up. And now, the Redhead fears for his life. I'm getting serious about that gun thing, and good unholy God, I may actually BUY one! O noez!! And a concealed carry permit? Oh good Jesus, you'd think I just sprouted a second head when I told him I was considering it.
The problem with the intense interest in shooty goodness in the handguns department is... I don't know anything about them! And yes, I am ashamed. But all was not lost!
I emailed Breda and explained my dilemma. I'm waiting to hear back from her, to see if she might be able to give me a few hints or point me in the right direction.
When my good friend Kerry showed up and sat with me for a while, we chatted about random bullshnit that went on around us, gossiped about people we secretly loathe, how boys are just about the craziest things in the world, and funny shit on the internet. And the gun topic came up, just as one of her best friend's ex-boyfriend showed up.
He got interested in the conversation. Apparently, there aren't many women-folk around here that are into guns. At all.
I told him I wanted to see if anybody in my circle of friends had any handguns that I could try out, just so I could find what would suit me. I'd like to have an idea before I spend a few hundred dollars on this particular piece of equipment, you know? It's just like before I buy a game system, computer, or car. I want to get a feel for what I'm spending loads of cash on. It's a reasonable request.
He had me hold my hand out, palm against his, and compared the sizes. My palm was about the same size as his, fingers just as long, but slightly narrower (is that even a word?). He nodded, released my hand, and commented that with my hands being their size, I might be able to work a .45. If I could deal with the recoil.
"My brother's got one. I could see if he'll let me borrow it, let you try it out. You'd have to buy some ammo, of course."
My eyes lit up like a little kid's on Christmas morning.
About an hour later, he gave me the name of a website that had specs on a small handful of pistols, sold in stores throughout the area. I read through it and compared prices, and now I'm even more excited.
Squeeeeeee!!!
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Situation Awareness
So, Friday morning. Got up at 6 AM, got dressed, took the Redhead to work. It's the only time I ever get to drive any more, so I tend to slow down, obey the speed limit, and enjoy the drive. Roomie keeps six CDs in the multi-disc changer now, because he's a delivery guy, so he spends most of his work days in the car. Good reason for me rarely getting to drive anymore. Also explains why I am usually trapped in the apartment all day, and desperate to get out and do something as meaningless as sit at Country Kitchen for hours on end and surf the internet. Let my brain leak out of my ears for a few hours, it's okay.
No, I don't have internet at home, either. So if I wants 'Net access, it's off to Country Kitchen to stuff myself full of either coffee or soda for hours on end and socialize with everybody that walks by. Swear to god, Country Kitchen is the best place in town to talk to people. Screw Pine Street (where ALL of the bars are). Forget the university campus. Country Kitchen, all the way, baby! There's a cult following, I swear.
Anyway, where was I going with this? ... Oh yeah. I'm gonna sound random and off-the-wall for a few more minutes before actually making a point with this post.
If you haven't noticed, I read blogs to entertain myself most often. When I find a new one that catches my interest, I go AAAAAAALL the way back through the archives to the very first post. I did this with the very first blog I became addicted to (Ambulance Driver), and have since then been linked to LawDog and Matt G, to name a couple. Of course, there are a handful more in my sidebar over there, but those two are the first that come to mind. I'm currently working my way through the archives of the ever-lovely Cranky Professor, and she has a LOT for me to read.
The reason I mention Matt and LawDog in particular is because they are police officers. Don't get me wrong, I don't prefer cops over all others, nobody takes second place to them in the heirarchy of folks whose words enrapture me, none of that (AD, you know you're still my favorite anyway!). No, their being officers of the law enforcement variety means... Just like in the nurse blogs and the AmboDriver's blog... they blog about what they know, and what they encounter.
They also offer advice and whatnot to the people that read them. They've made posts about women who carry concealed, CCW in general, all sorts of things. If you have a question for them, leave it in the comments, and if it's of a good topic that deserves to have some light shed on it, they'll answer.
They've also posted about situational awareness. Matter of fact, in the past week or so while availing myself to Matt's archives to catch up on him, I came across a post explaining it and warning people (women especially, because apparently in the eyes of critters everywhere, the fairer sex is still easy prey, and I can understand that, with today's society in America. "Just give them what they want." No. Fuck you. I refuse to be victimized.)
Take note of your surroundings, people. It could save your friggin' LIFE. And after yesterday morning, after dropping the Redhead off at work, this subject really hit home with me. Nothing bad happened, thank god, but after I came into my apartrment (and took care to lock and bolt the door behind me, for once), the alarm bells were still going off in my brain something fierce. It kept me from getting back to sleep, kept me from getting even remotely comfortable, and it kept me edgy for most of the day.
Now. I live on a dead end street. There's a round little cul-de-sac on each end, and the only way to get onto the street is to follow the winding, bendy-ass road that T's into it, after navigating your way through one of the higher-end neighborhoods in this dinky little town. Don't ask me how I managed to land in this apartment, but after being used to living lower-middle class slums most of my life, being surrounded by nice houses and fancy cars makes me a little... nervous, for some reason.
ANYWAY.
Each building holds four apartments, with a small parking lot for each. I live in the second building from the end closest to the street out. Okay. So I stop at the stop sign and as I start to turn, I see headlights coming towards me. Slowly. I start to pay a little more attention, coming out of the trance I feel when I can drive and relax. I turn onto my street, flip on my blinker to let Other Dood know which parking lot I'm pulling into... and he pulls into it ahead of me. Parks next to my neighbor's Mustang and kills the engine. Parks right next to the only... open... spot. Shit.
Cue the alarm bells starting to sound. I was officially nervous and none too happy about it.
In Houston, where I hail from, this is the way that Bad Things happen. It was a quarter til seven in the morning and it wasn't even light out. The horizon was just starting to brighten in anticipation of the coming day. And there is some strange dood whose car I had never seen before, parked next to me. Had I been one of my weaker-willed relatives or friends, I may have had a panic attack at that moment.
But, nonetheless, I was sitting in my roommate's truck, fifteen feet from the front door of my apartment. Hell, I'm five feet from my own bedroom window. With some weird guy I don't know in the next car. And I'm cursing my roomie's Mazda, because there is no way to turn off the interior lights when you open the door. I have tried. The windows aren't tinted at all, so Stranger Man would be able to see when I got out of the car. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I was getting myself really worked up over this, can you tell?
I ended up getting out of the car, keys in my fist. I loves me some stabbing implements. Yay. And I hear the guy get out of his car. My mind is going absolutely nucking futs by this time, let me tell you. The guy comes around the back of the Mazda, and meets me when I'm halfway to my door.
Stranger Guy: "You live here?"
Snarky: "Yeah."
SG: "Which one?"
S: "This building right behind me."
SG: "Oh. Well. The bank is foreclosing on this building today, and..."
At this point, he steps even closer to me. Granted, when he first started talking to me, he was a good three feet away. All I could see was the receding hairline, glasses, and dark-colored polo he was wearing. Still wasn't light enough. But he stepped forward, and I stepped back.
Snarky: "Please, stay where you are."
SG: "What? I'm not gonna hurt you, lady."
Snarky: "I don't know that. Stay where you are."
He stayed. Thankfully. He went on to say that he was looking for information about the buildings, like how many bedrooms in the apartments, what appliances they came with, what rent ran us each month. Told me that if an investor bought the building, we might not have to move. If the bank kept it, then we'd have sixty to ninety days to relocate. He gestured to the rest of the buildings on the street, telling me "There's obviously plenty of places to move."
The realtor we rent from owns all the buildings on the street. If the bank was foreclosing on one, wouldn't they close on ALL of them? Or at least more than ONE building? Not to mention, not once did this guy identify himself, who he was with, or anything.
He said he was looking for information on the buildings, but didn't want to go knocking on doors. No shit, sherlock. Get the fuck out of my parking lot and away from my home, lest I start screaming and call the cops.
If I see him or his car around here again, I'm definitely calling his plates in.
No, I don't have internet at home, either. So if I wants 'Net access, it's off to Country Kitchen to stuff myself full of either coffee or soda for hours on end and socialize with everybody that walks by. Swear to god, Country Kitchen is the best place in town to talk to people. Screw Pine Street (where ALL of the bars are). Forget the university campus. Country Kitchen, all the way, baby! There's a cult following, I swear.
Anyway, where was I going with this? ... Oh yeah. I'm gonna sound random and off-the-wall for a few more minutes before actually making a point with this post.
If you haven't noticed, I read blogs to entertain myself most often. When I find a new one that catches my interest, I go AAAAAAALL the way back through the archives to the very first post. I did this with the very first blog I became addicted to (Ambulance Driver), and have since then been linked to LawDog and Matt G, to name a couple. Of course, there are a handful more in my sidebar over there, but those two are the first that come to mind. I'm currently working my way through the archives of the ever-lovely Cranky Professor, and she has a LOT for me to read.
The reason I mention Matt and LawDog in particular is because they are police officers. Don't get me wrong, I don't prefer cops over all others, nobody takes second place to them in the heirarchy of folks whose words enrapture me, none of that (AD, you know you're still my favorite anyway!). No, their being officers of the law enforcement variety means... Just like in the nurse blogs and the AmboDriver's blog... they blog about what they know, and what they encounter.
They also offer advice and whatnot to the people that read them. They've made posts about women who carry concealed, CCW in general, all sorts of things. If you have a question for them, leave it in the comments, and if it's of a good topic that deserves to have some light shed on it, they'll answer.
They've also posted about situational awareness. Matter of fact, in the past week or so while availing myself to Matt's archives to catch up on him, I came across a post explaining it and warning people (women especially, because apparently in the eyes of critters everywhere, the fairer sex is still easy prey, and I can understand that, with today's society in America. "Just give them what they want." No. Fuck you. I refuse to be victimized.)
Take note of your surroundings, people. It could save your friggin' LIFE. And after yesterday morning, after dropping the Redhead off at work, this subject really hit home with me. Nothing bad happened, thank god, but after I came into my apartrment (and took care to lock and bolt the door behind me, for once), the alarm bells were still going off in my brain something fierce. It kept me from getting back to sleep, kept me from getting even remotely comfortable, and it kept me edgy for most of the day.
Now. I live on a dead end street. There's a round little cul-de-sac on each end, and the only way to get onto the street is to follow the winding, bendy-ass road that T's into it, after navigating your way through one of the higher-end neighborhoods in this dinky little town. Don't ask me how I managed to land in this apartment, but after being used to living lower-middle class slums most of my life, being surrounded by nice houses and fancy cars makes me a little... nervous, for some reason.
ANYWAY.
Each building holds four apartments, with a small parking lot for each. I live in the second building from the end closest to the street out. Okay. So I stop at the stop sign and as I start to turn, I see headlights coming towards me. Slowly. I start to pay a little more attention, coming out of the trance I feel when I can drive and relax. I turn onto my street, flip on my blinker to let Other Dood know which parking lot I'm pulling into... and he pulls into it ahead of me. Parks next to my neighbor's Mustang and kills the engine. Parks right next to the only... open... spot. Shit.
Cue the alarm bells starting to sound. I was officially nervous and none too happy about it.
In Houston, where I hail from, this is the way that Bad Things happen. It was a quarter til seven in the morning and it wasn't even light out. The horizon was just starting to brighten in anticipation of the coming day. And there is some strange dood whose car I had never seen before, parked next to me. Had I been one of my weaker-willed relatives or friends, I may have had a panic attack at that moment.
But, nonetheless, I was sitting in my roommate's truck, fifteen feet from the front door of my apartment. Hell, I'm five feet from my own bedroom window. With some weird guy I don't know in the next car. And I'm cursing my roomie's Mazda, because there is no way to turn off the interior lights when you open the door. I have tried. The windows aren't tinted at all, so Stranger Man would be able to see when I got out of the car. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I was getting myself really worked up over this, can you tell?
I ended up getting out of the car, keys in my fist. I loves me some stabbing implements. Yay. And I hear the guy get out of his car. My mind is going absolutely nucking futs by this time, let me tell you. The guy comes around the back of the Mazda, and meets me when I'm halfway to my door.
Stranger Guy: "You live here?"
Snarky: "Yeah."
SG: "Which one?"
S: "This building right behind me."
SG: "Oh. Well. The bank is foreclosing on this building today, and..."
At this point, he steps even closer to me. Granted, when he first started talking to me, he was a good three feet away. All I could see was the receding hairline, glasses, and dark-colored polo he was wearing. Still wasn't light enough. But he stepped forward, and I stepped back.
Snarky: "Please, stay where you are."
SG: "What? I'm not gonna hurt you, lady."
Snarky: "I don't know that. Stay where you are."
He stayed. Thankfully. He went on to say that he was looking for information about the buildings, like how many bedrooms in the apartments, what appliances they came with, what rent ran us each month. Told me that if an investor bought the building, we might not have to move. If the bank kept it, then we'd have sixty to ninety days to relocate. He gestured to the rest of the buildings on the street, telling me "There's obviously plenty of places to move."
The realtor we rent from owns all the buildings on the street. If the bank was foreclosing on one, wouldn't they close on ALL of them? Or at least more than ONE building? Not to mention, not once did this guy identify himself, who he was with, or anything.
He said he was looking for information on the buildings, but didn't want to go knocking on doors. No shit, sherlock. Get the fuck out of my parking lot and away from my home, lest I start screaming and call the cops.
If I see him or his car around here again, I'm definitely calling his plates in.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Random Crap With A Lot Of Pics
Okay, so this is gonna be an off the wall post, just to give you fair warning. We'll be covering stupidity, friends, baby crap, aaaand... I haven't quite figured it all out yet. I tend to play my posts by ear most of the time, so if I have ANY READERS WHATSOEVER, you should be used to it by now.
Yeah, I know. Nobody reads this but me. But I can hope, right? Right. Moving along...
First off, though. BABY STUFF!
I'm finally starting to get excited about being pregnant. I'm finally starting to get used to the idea of the now-undeniable fact that in a few months, I am going to go through a whole HELLUVALOTTAPAIN, and have a life to mold and hope I can meet the challenge (to paraphrase a friend's thoughts on the subject, because now I can't find the conversation archive it was said in). The maternal instincts are kicking in, and I've already started snapping at Redhead about certain behaviors that will come to a full stop once the baby gets here.
But that's not what I'm talking about. What I'm talking about is how Redhead and I have been worried how we are going to pay for all the things we'll need for baby Daniel, and suddenly, most of the bigger, more costly items have been provided for me. My mother and Mamaw have been going crazy in Texas, buying stuff for me. A lot of stuff. We've already come to the realization that she's going to need a Uhaul trailer to get all of it to me. It won't all fit in her little Mazda, no way in hell.
A crib, a little bouncy seat thing, TWO strollers, a little ducky costume (because my mother's nickname is Ducky and she couldn't resist getting a VERY early Halloween costume), a battery-powered swing (because winding the old swings up was way irritating), one of about two dozen outfits they've bought, and the quilt from a bedding set that originally cost $180 dollars that my mother bought from a friend. Said friend was expecting a boy, and at the last minute discovered that her daughter was having a girl. Sheets, quilt, mobile, all kinds of crap.
My family has gone nuts buying stuff for the first grandchild in the entire family. They're very excited, obviously. Lots of stuff.
In other news, my friends are being dorks. This is my buddy, Ninja, for instance.
Somebody gave him a really big stick, and for some reason, thought he looked like a Muslim or something. And there was a whole room full of people debating this fact. So, one of the geniuses took a picture with his cell phone and sent it out to everybody, asking if they all agreed. My answer was the best, and earned a personal text "thank you" from Ninja himself, and laughter from the rest of the idiots:
"No, it just looks like you made a big mistake and gave Ninja a really big stick. Wow, you're a dumbass."
Yeah, these are the people I hang out with on a daily basis. It sounds a lot less amusing here than it really was, I swear.
And we're an easily amused, bunch. Somebody found a website (I am yet to find it) where you can make your own highway sign, welcoming traffic into a town. This one was created and sent around. The most amusing part is... this is generally the attitude taken by the townies around here. And in this town, you're either a Townie or a College Student. If you're not a student, but you've moved into town and become a regular face, you are an adopted townie. Much like me, the Redhead, the Roomie... the works. But the sign amused me to no end.
That's all I got right now. You'll have to suffer for a while more until I can come up with a REAL quality blog post. Enjoy.
Yeah, I know. Nobody reads this but me. But I can hope, right? Right. Moving along...
First off, though. BABY STUFF!
I'm finally starting to get excited about being pregnant. I'm finally starting to get used to the idea of the now-undeniable fact that in a few months, I am going to go through a whole HELLUVALOTTAPAIN, and have a life to mold and hope I can meet the challenge (to paraphrase a friend's thoughts on the subject, because now I can't find the conversation archive it was said in). The maternal instincts are kicking in, and I've already started snapping at Redhead about certain behaviors that will come to a full stop once the baby gets here.
But that's not what I'm talking about. What I'm talking about is how Redhead and I have been worried how we are going to pay for all the things we'll need for baby Daniel, and suddenly, most of the bigger, more costly items have been provided for me. My mother and Mamaw have been going crazy in Texas, buying stuff for me. A lot of stuff. We've already come to the realization that she's going to need a Uhaul trailer to get all of it to me. It won't all fit in her little Mazda, no way in hell.
A crib, a little bouncy seat thing, TWO strollers, a little ducky costume (because my mother's nickname is Ducky and she couldn't resist getting a VERY early Halloween costume), a battery-powered swing (because winding the old swings up was way irritating), one of about two dozen outfits they've bought, and the quilt from a bedding set that originally cost $180 dollars that my mother bought from a friend. Said friend was expecting a boy, and at the last minute discovered that her daughter was having a girl. Sheets, quilt, mobile, all kinds of crap.
My family has gone nuts buying stuff for the first grandchild in the entire family. They're very excited, obviously. Lots of stuff.
In other news, my friends are being dorks. This is my buddy, Ninja, for instance.
Somebody gave him a really big stick, and for some reason, thought he looked like a Muslim or something. And there was a whole room full of people debating this fact. So, one of the geniuses took a picture with his cell phone and sent it out to everybody, asking if they all agreed. My answer was the best, and earned a personal text "thank you" from Ninja himself, and laughter from the rest of the idiots:
"No, it just looks like you made a big mistake and gave Ninja a really big stick. Wow, you're a dumbass."
Yeah, these are the people I hang out with on a daily basis. It sounds a lot less amusing here than it really was, I swear.
And we're an easily amused, bunch. Somebody found a website (I am yet to find it) where you can make your own highway sign, welcoming traffic into a town. This one was created and sent around. The most amusing part is... this is generally the attitude taken by the townies around here. And in this town, you're either a Townie or a College Student. If you're not a student, but you've moved into town and become a regular face, you are an adopted townie. Much like me, the Redhead, the Roomie... the works. But the sign amused me to no end.
That's all I got right now. You'll have to suffer for a while more until I can come up with a REAL quality blog post. Enjoy.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Memery Serves Me
Okay so I hijacked this meme from Facebook, and I'm posting it here and gonna tag a couple people myself.
The rules are simple, but a wee bit taxing for somebody who's a wee bit ADD-minded like myself. Post 25 (yes, that's a LOT, 25, holy crap!) random facts, goals, thoughts, whatever about yourself. When you're done (eventually), tag some people yourself. Now this is where things go a little rodeo.
I don't know 25 bloggers. I don't even read 25 different blogs, screw that. So I'm just gonna say tag FIVE people. Just five. That should make that part a little bit easier.
1. I'm pregnant. If you didn't know this, then you are A HORRIBLE FRIEND AND SHOULD GO DIE. D: Not really, though. I have few enough friends as it is, I kinda need to hang onto the ones I've got.
2. I'm horribly addicted to caffeine. I didn't realize this until I didn't have any coffee or soda or anything remotely caffeinated for upwards of a month. Then I drank a bottle of pepsi and just about creamed in mah jeans.
3. My favorite alcoholic beverage in the world is Wild Turkey's American Honey. That stuff is the bomb, and on my 21st birthday, even though I won't be allowed to drink (see number 1 above), I am going to go buy a big ol' bottle of it, and then stash it away in my freezer until the kid pops out. And then I'm going on a bender like nobody's business.
4. Most of you know this, but I have a very short fuse and a very wild temper. Now, the part that nobody seems to REALIZE here as of late is how well I've been holding onto said wild temper. I'm still accused of having an attitude problem, until I tell them... I haven't gotten into a single fist fight since I've moved to Missouri. I was notorious for decking a motherfucker in Texas. So the next time I'm ranting and raving about somebody being a dumb fuck, remember... I can yell about it, or I can HIT SOMEONE. And everybody prefers that I don't hit anyone.
5. I cannot go an entire day without sitting down and listening to music for at least an hour straight. I need music in my life. And playing the radio in the background does not count. I have to barricade myself in my bedroom, plug the headphones into the laptop, and just melt away. Of course, I have to compete with ze boyfriend thingeh for music, because he wants to watch MASH at obscene volumes... and when I can't hear my music, I get cranky.
6. I still listen to country music. It drives boyfriend thingeh crazy, but I still listen to country music. I grew up on it, and I won't deny my roots no matter how pissed off you get. If you don't like it, tough titty.
7. My biggest pet peeve, since moving to Missouri, anyway, is when I get made fun of for being a redneck from Texas. Yes, I'm from Texas. I grew up south of Houston, though. I'm a city girl. I'm not a redneck, I'm not a hillbilly, I'm not a cousin-fucker. And the next person to say, "Ignore her, she's from Texas, they're kinda dumb down there," WILL be getting their teeth knocked out.
8. I love animals. All animals. I grew up in a house full of cats, dogs, and birds, but the love doesn't end there. I've owned turtles, lizards, and for my entire life, I've wanted a horse. I like to go outside of city limits into the wild and just watch the animals there. Last year I saw a wild owl for the first time, up close, in the middle of the night out west of town, and it was the coolest thing in the world.
9. I love the public service brotherhood. My adopted uncle is a cop in Texas. Most of the people at my father's funeral last year were firemen and police. For upwards of a year, every day, I would go to a little taqueria and eat breakfast with some of the volunteer firefighters and just shoot the breeze. One of my closest friends on the wonder that is the internet is a 40-year-old paramedic in Louisiana. And once the baby is born, I plan on enrolling in school to become a paramedic myself.
10. I am a cuddle whore and a half. This pisses my boyfriend off to no end. If he's not around, but some other friend is, at the very least, I will lean on them. I crave human contact of some sort or another. I have difficulty sleeping by myself because I want to curl up against a warm body and just snuggle the night away. My cat has picked up on this and lays right next to me, with his paws wrapped around my arm through the night. Such a good kitty.
11. I intensely enjoy writing. In case you couldn't tell. I can't just write one sentence on a subject. People get annoyed with me because I have a tendency to get really long-winded. I will beat a subject to DEATH if it strikes my fancy.
12. My weapon of choice against annoying people is a lit cigarette. It keeps the health nuts away from me, and in shady neighborhoods where a woman alone is easy prey, it's a quick deterrent for dumb boys. I will not hesitate to put that burning cherry out in your eye if you threaten me.
13. My rules for dating people are simple. No one younger than me, and no one shorter than me. Since I stand at roughly 5'9" tall, that second one can cause problems. But I broke that rule myself with the boyfriend thingeh. He's like four inches shorter than me.
14. Mexican food. I wants it. This town's lack of decent Mexican food has been a major source of frustration for me. I can't get a good plate of tacos to save my life. It makes me sad in the pants.
15. I am known now as the Dickless Guy Friend. I don't wear make up, I don't get dressed up, I don't do my nails. I'd rather go play video games and get drunk than have a girl's night out watching chick flicks or whatever it is the girls do. One guy friend actually coined the term "manuterus" for my Dickless Guy Friend status.
16. I do not call chicken nuggets or chicken poppers by their real names. They are forever to be known as "human flavored chicken bites." Boyfriend thingeh muttered that in his sleep one night and it stuck with me FOREVER.
17. My favoritest past time in the entire universe is driving. I feel like I become part of the car, and I can easily waste a tank of gas just driving, lost in the sensation of commanding that much machinery. It's my weakness.
18. I collect zippos. Only need one, but if I have the extra cash in my pocket, and I see one I like, I won't hesitate to buy it. I'm still looking to replace my ace of spades zippo that went into the ground with my father, but I haven't found the appropriate one yet.
19. Not having internet in my apartment is driving me FUCKING BATSHIT CRAZY. I like to be connected to my friends across the country, and I like to read the handful of blogs that catch my interest. I get bored easily, so the internet is a useful tool, and not having it at home where I spend most of my time... I'm at my wit's end. And driving my boyfriend and two room mates crazy, to boot.
20. I prefer to dress in baggy clothes, but if I can't (like now, with the growing pregnant belly), I'll drape a big jacket across my shoulders. It's not a comfort issue, it's an insecurity issue.
21. My hair currently comes down to just above my ass. And it's just gonna keep growing, because I'm not cutting it off again. I'll trim it, but never again will I hack off two feet of glorious locks. It's insanely thick, and when it's clean and dry, it feels like silk against your skin. People lust after my hair. It's the only part of my body I take any pride in.
22. I suck at making lists like these. I am just having the most impossible time coming up with 25 random little factoids or whatever about myself. It got really hard after about number 12 or so. Aaaagh. Almost there, though.
23. I HATE the Kansas City Chiefs. I'm not a major football fan, but god DAMN those guys suck. Ugh. Disgusting.
24. I'm a techno-fiend. I would go crazy if I didn't have my laptop, or a computer of some sort, and I lose my mind if I leave the house and forget my phone. I'm always texting or IMing someone. I like having a big shiny stereo, too. It's nice. I won't hesitate to shell out the cash for technology.
25. The crazier and off-the-wall you are, the more taken to you I will be. And if you're sarcastic and witty? Oh yeah. We'll be best friends. I surround myself with good people that can make me laugh without thinking about it. And these are the people I will turn to when life gets to be too much for me to handle. Even though they are jokesters and most people would swear they can't take life seriously... They are there when I need them most.
HOLY CRAP!! I finished it! Whoo!!
Okay, for my bit, I'm tagging Ambulance Driver, LawDog, Crystal of Boobs, Injuries, and Dr. Pepper, Nurse K of Crass-Pollination, and FarmGirl of Tractor Tracks.
You guys don't have to do it, of course, but it'd be interesting to see a little bit into your minds. I love reading you for a reason!
The rules are simple, but a wee bit taxing for somebody who's a wee bit ADD-minded like myself. Post 25 (yes, that's a LOT, 25, holy crap!) random facts, goals, thoughts, whatever about yourself. When you're done (eventually), tag some people yourself. Now this is where things go a little rodeo.
I don't know 25 bloggers. I don't even read 25 different blogs, screw that. So I'm just gonna say tag FIVE people. Just five. That should make that part a little bit easier.
1. I'm pregnant. If you didn't know this, then you are A HORRIBLE FRIEND AND SHOULD GO DIE. D: Not really, though. I have few enough friends as it is, I kinda need to hang onto the ones I've got.
2. I'm horribly addicted to caffeine. I didn't realize this until I didn't have any coffee or soda or anything remotely caffeinated for upwards of a month. Then I drank a bottle of pepsi and just about creamed in mah jeans.
3. My favorite alcoholic beverage in the world is Wild Turkey's American Honey. That stuff is the bomb, and on my 21st birthday, even though I won't be allowed to drink (see number 1 above), I am going to go buy a big ol' bottle of it, and then stash it away in my freezer until the kid pops out. And then I'm going on a bender like nobody's business.
4. Most of you know this, but I have a very short fuse and a very wild temper. Now, the part that nobody seems to REALIZE here as of late is how well I've been holding onto said wild temper. I'm still accused of having an attitude problem, until I tell them... I haven't gotten into a single fist fight since I've moved to Missouri. I was notorious for decking a motherfucker in Texas. So the next time I'm ranting and raving about somebody being a dumb fuck, remember... I can yell about it, or I can HIT SOMEONE. And everybody prefers that I don't hit anyone.
5. I cannot go an entire day without sitting down and listening to music for at least an hour straight. I need music in my life. And playing the radio in the background does not count. I have to barricade myself in my bedroom, plug the headphones into the laptop, and just melt away. Of course, I have to compete with ze boyfriend thingeh for music, because he wants to watch MASH at obscene volumes... and when I can't hear my music, I get cranky.
6. I still listen to country music. It drives boyfriend thingeh crazy, but I still listen to country music. I grew up on it, and I won't deny my roots no matter how pissed off you get. If you don't like it, tough titty.
7. My biggest pet peeve, since moving to Missouri, anyway, is when I get made fun of for being a redneck from Texas. Yes, I'm from Texas. I grew up south of Houston, though. I'm a city girl. I'm not a redneck, I'm not a hillbilly, I'm not a cousin-fucker. And the next person to say, "Ignore her, she's from Texas, they're kinda dumb down there," WILL be getting their teeth knocked out.
8. I love animals. All animals. I grew up in a house full of cats, dogs, and birds, but the love doesn't end there. I've owned turtles, lizards, and for my entire life, I've wanted a horse. I like to go outside of city limits into the wild and just watch the animals there. Last year I saw a wild owl for the first time, up close, in the middle of the night out west of town, and it was the coolest thing in the world.
9. I love the public service brotherhood. My adopted uncle is a cop in Texas. Most of the people at my father's funeral last year were firemen and police. For upwards of a year, every day, I would go to a little taqueria and eat breakfast with some of the volunteer firefighters and just shoot the breeze. One of my closest friends on the wonder that is the internet is a 40-year-old paramedic in Louisiana. And once the baby is born, I plan on enrolling in school to become a paramedic myself.
10. I am a cuddle whore and a half. This pisses my boyfriend off to no end. If he's not around, but some other friend is, at the very least, I will lean on them. I crave human contact of some sort or another. I have difficulty sleeping by myself because I want to curl up against a warm body and just snuggle the night away. My cat has picked up on this and lays right next to me, with his paws wrapped around my arm through the night. Such a good kitty.
11. I intensely enjoy writing. In case you couldn't tell. I can't just write one sentence on a subject. People get annoyed with me because I have a tendency to get really long-winded. I will beat a subject to DEATH if it strikes my fancy.
12. My weapon of choice against annoying people is a lit cigarette. It keeps the health nuts away from me, and in shady neighborhoods where a woman alone is easy prey, it's a quick deterrent for dumb boys. I will not hesitate to put that burning cherry out in your eye if you threaten me.
13. My rules for dating people are simple. No one younger than me, and no one shorter than me. Since I stand at roughly 5'9" tall, that second one can cause problems. But I broke that rule myself with the boyfriend thingeh. He's like four inches shorter than me.
14. Mexican food. I wants it. This town's lack of decent Mexican food has been a major source of frustration for me. I can't get a good plate of tacos to save my life. It makes me sad in the pants.
15. I am known now as the Dickless Guy Friend. I don't wear make up, I don't get dressed up, I don't do my nails. I'd rather go play video games and get drunk than have a girl's night out watching chick flicks or whatever it is the girls do. One guy friend actually coined the term "manuterus" for my Dickless Guy Friend status.
16. I do not call chicken nuggets or chicken poppers by their real names. They are forever to be known as "human flavored chicken bites." Boyfriend thingeh muttered that in his sleep one night and it stuck with me FOREVER.
17. My favoritest past time in the entire universe is driving. I feel like I become part of the car, and I can easily waste a tank of gas just driving, lost in the sensation of commanding that much machinery. It's my weakness.
18. I collect zippos. Only need one, but if I have the extra cash in my pocket, and I see one I like, I won't hesitate to buy it. I'm still looking to replace my ace of spades zippo that went into the ground with my father, but I haven't found the appropriate one yet.
19. Not having internet in my apartment is driving me FUCKING BATSHIT CRAZY. I like to be connected to my friends across the country, and I like to read the handful of blogs that catch my interest. I get bored easily, so the internet is a useful tool, and not having it at home where I spend most of my time... I'm at my wit's end. And driving my boyfriend and two room mates crazy, to boot.
20. I prefer to dress in baggy clothes, but if I can't (like now, with the growing pregnant belly), I'll drape a big jacket across my shoulders. It's not a comfort issue, it's an insecurity issue.
21. My hair currently comes down to just above my ass. And it's just gonna keep growing, because I'm not cutting it off again. I'll trim it, but never again will I hack off two feet of glorious locks. It's insanely thick, and when it's clean and dry, it feels like silk against your skin. People lust after my hair. It's the only part of my body I take any pride in.
22. I suck at making lists like these. I am just having the most impossible time coming up with 25 random little factoids or whatever about myself. It got really hard after about number 12 or so. Aaaagh. Almost there, though.
23. I HATE the Kansas City Chiefs. I'm not a major football fan, but god DAMN those guys suck. Ugh. Disgusting.
24. I'm a techno-fiend. I would go crazy if I didn't have my laptop, or a computer of some sort, and I lose my mind if I leave the house and forget my phone. I'm always texting or IMing someone. I like having a big shiny stereo, too. It's nice. I won't hesitate to shell out the cash for technology.
25. The crazier and off-the-wall you are, the more taken to you I will be. And if you're sarcastic and witty? Oh yeah. We'll be best friends. I surround myself with good people that can make me laugh without thinking about it. And these are the people I will turn to when life gets to be too much for me to handle. Even though they are jokesters and most people would swear they can't take life seriously... They are there when I need them most.
HOLY CRAP!! I finished it! Whoo!!
Okay, for my bit, I'm tagging Ambulance Driver, LawDog, Crystal of Boobs, Injuries, and Dr. Pepper, Nurse K of Crass-Pollination, and FarmGirl of Tractor Tracks.
You guys don't have to do it, of course, but it'd be interesting to see a little bit into your minds. I love reading you for a reason!
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