Friday, February 29, 2008

The Karma Chameleon is Green

Does anyone remember how miffed I got a few blogs back at the scumbag woman who collected on the old lady dropping money at Walmart?

Well, I guess this is a Karma story that ties into that. I brought raviolis for lunch today but come lunch time I wasn't feeling rav. So I had $3 on me and decided to walk down to Jack in the Box and get a set of tacos. While on foot down there, I noticed what looked to be a dollar crumpled up with a recipt in the street by the curb as if trash. I looked closer and realized, yes, it was in fact money. I picked it up and de-crumpled this dollar which would allow me to to now get a drink.

It wasn't a dollar.

It was a $50!!!! And the person got it back as change from a sale from Play It Again Sports hehe. I didn't keep the receipt.

So I spend my $50 by going to Subway instead (I'd rather have a sammich now that I can afford something better!) I also decide to treat myself to a shirt I liked at the chunt store. So I got that, then I got Lori a pair of shoes I have she liked and got me some new fancy pants flip flops. Wooh.

Pretty exciting. Yay Karma!

End to a beautiful day

Today was really beautiful. At lunch I couldn't help but want to stay out all day but alas, I had to get back to work. When Jesse got me from work, it was still light outside. The weather was still very pleasant. I thought, instead of taking Lulu downstairs to potty, I'll take her for a walk. So Jesse went back to work, I got the leash and got her all set up to go. We went on a little walk. There was really only 30 minutes of daylight left for us. I took her out and walked around the neighborhood for those 30 minutes. I saw this beautiful tree that looked like it had shed its bark to reveal a pale green trunk. That combined with the dream-like lighting outside only made the moment seem completely picturesque. Anyway, it was nice walking out for half an hour with the pug dog with nothing more than the poncho sweater as a source of warmth and not feeling the slightest bit chilly. Especially since the last few weeks have been spent slowly fading out of heavy winter coats and into lighter sweaters. Eventually it'll come down to just wearing t-shirts and skirts. I eagerly await those days to come... For now, off to dinner...

Thursday, February 28, 2008

What gives?!

It just occurred to me, now that the baby is no longer nameless, why not update the info on the registry and put his name on there? So I go online to our registries and much to my dismay I notice a bunch of things I had picked are no longer in stock in stores or online! What the hell!? I guess the thing that bothered me most was the stroller/car seat I liked is totally gone. So I have a new one picked out but I'm not sure about the colors. Like online they look like they're a tan and green but I'm concerned the tan might look pinkish? I dunno. I'm sure whoever gets the stroller/car seat travel system will use their best discretion and pick something with shades of greens and browns that doesn't look faggy.

On a side note, last night when I was shopping, I was looking around at stuff in Big Lots and I saw their strollers and car seats and I just had this weird moment of panic/fear/I don't know what to call it. It's like the last few months, aside from my tummy growing and moving, seeing a fully assembled stroller in the store made this seem more real to me I guess, that I'm pregnant and in fact having a child in less than 3 months. I know a lot of parents who already started buying things for their unborn children before they had them, and I haven't done this. I can't help but wonder if this is normal or not? I mean, last night I bought myself a new purse and a sweater. Should I be getting things for the baby instead? Am I going to be a bad mom? What's with my obsession with fruit lately? Where can I find a gun related shirt for a newborn to wear in the hospital lol?


You know how there's those people in the world who have those total piece of shit cars and they invest so much money into getting them to keep working? Well, I'm pretty much the same with my computer. I've had this thing since 2001. Yeah, the poor thing is 7 years old, and still runs. Go figure. It seems like roughly every two years or so, I find myself needing to completely reinstall my system. I have no idea why. Possibly because of my lack of virus software? Or the number of guests I have allowed to use my computer who have downloaded contaminated files on several occasions? Ridiculously large amounts of spyware that gets on my computer on a daily basis even though I repetitively do scans/removals of it? Whatever the case may be, I always tend to have crap with this thing. There's been a few occasions in the past where I did have money to buy a new system but the only thing preventing me from doing so was the fact I didn't want to have to reinstall software or back up files. I have at least 4G of music files, God knows how many of photos, and everything in between. I know that doesn't seem astronomically huge to some people, but for me, it is. Especially since I need to back it up on some FTP space as a temporary solution seeing as I don't a DVD drive or any other better means of saving stuff. At this point, I'm really wishing I had an external drive or something so that this wouldn't be such an issue, or better yet, should I want to change computers it'd be just as easy. I keep telling myself when I get the money I want to get a Mac. For the longest time I convinced myself I would never do so because owning a Mac is such an art fag thing, but at this point, I've learned to get over my prejudices and realize that they are superior machines for my purposes... plus no one ever writes viruses for Macs. One fine day, I suppose, I'll invest in a little space saving iMac or something... one fine day... $1200 down the line... I'd get a new computer before I get a new car, that's where my mind is at. So yeah, I'm guessing all my files won't finish backing up till tomorrow, if I'm lucky. Sounds like system reinstall is on the agenda for tomorrow night then. And then back to re-saving the files to the hard drive. Ugh.

Styles For Less...and other odd characters...

Back home, Lori and I used to delight in what we called "chunt stores". Places like Fashion Q and Fashion Time or any other little small boutique with Fashion somewhere in the name usually awkwardly placed in the middle of a strip mall somewhere. I was slightly disappointed with Reno in the sense they didn't have places like this. Till I started my job. I learned right around the block from where I work is a little chunt store, Styles For Less. Now the one thing this place has over the places back home is that you can buy a yearly discount card. It's $25 but you get 10% off each purchase (including sale items) and 20% off any purchase the week of your birthday. Weird, right? Well, I had mine since October and I know I've saved well over that $25 "membership fee" since then. Personally, I like the selection of things they have in there. And they have really crazy awesome sales. On multiple occasions I've walked out of there spending like $6 and getting two shirts, or the infamous $2 mustard yellow dress. But the best part of Styles is the staff there. Whenever I go there at lunch time, there's this really flaming gay guy who works there. He's super queenie and acts all put out when you go to pay like it's getting in the way of him standing around behind the register listening to bad emo-pop. But last night was the first time I've been there after work hours and apparently he's not the only weirdo that works there. Last night I saw this trannie chola. Yea, that's right. A trannie chola. It was a dude who looked like he either took hormones or stuffed a bra. He was wearing a purple camisole with black lace and a little black sweater and jeans. He had acrylic nails that were white with a baby blue glittery French tip. He had the chola make up of the white eye shadow with black liner and mascara, and the dark lip liner with light lip stick thing. It was just weird. Him and this other girl working there were eating the whole time behind the counter. I know when I worked retail that was seriously frowned upon. Anyway it was just weird. But yea, that's part of why I love this place so much. It's just so weird. Apparently there's one in So. Cal in Rancho Cucamonga so, maybe you valley people can check it out one day. They have really cute luggage too.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Sunday Random

1. I can't find a normal pheasant recipe. Everything is gourmet and weird sounding. I just want to know how to make a damn bird!

2. Jesse works late. I have 2.5 hours of absolutely nothing and the house to myself. Granted, I'd be a lot happier to have him home and making noise and doing whatever it is he does. Or at least be able to be doing laundry.

3. There's nothing on tv. NASCAR is on Fox. This will interrupt my Sunday programming for sure.

4. The bathtub. It's clean. The bathroom is clean. I really want to take a nice warm bath and stew in the water for a while but much to my dismay, I'm all out of sleepy time salt. Dammit! What's the point of taking a bath if I don't have my bath salt!?

5. Lulu is being cute. She's sitting on the "ottoman" in a little ball. (The ottoman is a milk crate turned upside down with a quilt on top. Genius.)

6. Everyone appears to be too busy right now. Every person I've called seems to be doing something and doesn't have time to talk to me. This sucks. I feel so unloved.

7. My fuzzy reds are still wet. I took the trash out earlier and all the snow and meltage got on them and they were freezing cold and wet. They're sitting in front of the heater attempting to dry.

Don't stress me, bro!

I spent some 30 minutes arguing with my mom who insists she be in the hospital when I have the baby. Ok, for starters, she plans on DRIVING up. I don't know about her driving, but I know it took me about 10 hours, hauling ass, leaving before 4 am and stopping to get gas to get up here. And I was doing 100 for a good stretch of drive up the 5 before sun-up. She plans on leaving once she finds out I go into labor, of course she will probably be at work or at home or something and will need to change, get some things together, come up bla bla bla. Long story short, she wants to be able to see the baby in the nursery. Well, the kid will only be there for 3 hours after birth and after that I'm having him roomed-in with me. Hospital procedure only keeps me 24 hours then I get to go home. I want to recover without any intrusions. Honestly I really only want my husband with me at the hospital. She's making me feel like I'm committing a crime by not wanting her there when I give birth. I'm sorry but whatever cultural upbringings she grew up with, that my grandparents ran a red light to see me born, or being at the hospitals to see new born babies, that is not me. This isn't about her, it's about me and what I want. I just feel like this is one of her little control things where she needs to be the first to see, the first to know, the first period. I can already foresee issues of if there are multiple grandparents up here, she'll be pulling some sort of bullshit about how it's her first grandchild and her daughter popped the kid out, or something. I just don't want any stress. And I don't want people other than doctors telling me what I should do, that this was good and this wasn't. I fucking HATE unwarranted advice and I'm sure I'll REALLY hate it when my boobs are engorged and sore and aching and people are telling me to do things a certain way. It's bad enough I feel like I'm already being pressured to do things certain ways as if I won't be a good mom if I don't but I just don't need this unnecessary stress. I just don't see what's so bad about waiting a week or so after the baby is born to come up. I mean, I haven't heard Jesse's mom bitching to him about wanting to be here RIGHT AWAY. She's going to be a grandma again too and she's not turning this into something about her. She's just going on with her life and checks up to see how we're doing every now and then. Personally, I prefer the non-intrusive approach a lot better. Although from someone who has 3 kids and 4 grandkids, I'm sure she's learned what works and what doesn't in situations. This is new to my mom and so she's clueless and the fact Jesse and I are having a child has nothing to do with us being new parents, no, it's about my mom becoming a grandma. I just don't like the pressure I feel like I'm getting from her. One of the most annoying factors is that my dad retires April 1st. She keeps bitching about how they're not going to have any money cos his pay is going to be half what he makes now and she has no idea how they're going to afford to pay bills, etc. and how she's going to need to get a second job. She's already playing the pity trip thing. I have my own stress and anxiety to deal with, I don't need additions of her calling and complaining about how she can't stand my dad's growing old, financial situations, her job, anything and everything. I think it is stupid for her to drive up here to see the baby the day it's born when she's going to be coming up some 4 weeks later and staying with us for 2 weeks till the baby is old enough to go to daycare. I mean, you're going to spend at least $160 to drive up here. Plus money for food, lodging, etc. Then 4 weeks later you're going to do the same? And then when you get back home, you'll call me and bitch about financial problems and I just don't want to deal with it! Seriously, I just feel like give me a week at least till after I have the baby to come up here. Everyone. If I have the kid Tuesday and you want to come up Saturday, that's fine, even. I just can't handle adjusting to having a new child, trying to recover from it, trying to keep Lulu happy and not stressed, as well as keep Jesse happy and fed and taken care of. I think a week is long enough for me to adapt to everything. Everyone who will want to see us lives 500 miles away. It's not going to be a little thing to where they can just swing by and say hi and if I feel stressed tell them to leave and not feel bad about it. I mean, if someone's driving 500 miles up here to see us, if I don't want anyone around and I tell you to go, I'm gonna feel like shit because I know it's not a simple ordeal, and at the same time, if you stay and I feel stressed, I'll still feel like shit cos I won't know what to do. I don't want people turning this into something about them. This is about me and Jesse and Lulu and our new baby. Everyone else comes second. Sorry to be an asshole but that's just the way it is. Make arrangements with us before you just show up. Don't surprise us. I hate surprises in situations where health and well being are concerned. It's not a case of like a birthday or something where I get home and there's a nice dinner waiting for me. This is like, I'm going to spend a day in agonizing pain, have stitches in my vagina, and aching boobs and body and a kid crying all the time and you're going to be like "Hi, I drove up here to see you! You should be happy to see me!" No, that's not how it's going to be. I just need a break. This is the part of me that gets depression speaking, but seriously, I don't want to see anyone except for my husband, pugdog, and child, for the first week after birth. Yes, the depression part. It likes me to be isolated and quite frankly, I enjoy the isolation sometimes and I know I will thank it for this later. Besides, I know her. I know she'll come up and sit in the hospital with me if she does get here and she'll stay there the whole time. And if I tell her I'm in labor, she'll come up and find out what room I'm in and visit me anyway because she is so fucking nosy and needs to find out everything and will practically stalk me to my hospital room to "visit". And if I tell her to leave she'll be like "Ok, in 5 minutes" or say some bullshit about how she drove up all this way and how I should at least let her stay there and it'll get to the point to where I'll need to threaten to have her leave or I'll have hospital security kick her out and then she'll call me and complain about how awful I am to her and how she's been a good mother bla bla bla bullshit. I just don't feel like dealing with any of that. Period.

Last Sunday of February

2:47 PM

Just finished cleaning the bathroom. Completely overhaul cleaning. Scrubbed the shit out of the bathtub and got rid of the shit ring in the toilet. Cleaned the floor to get hidden pug and people hair as well as sand (?) out of nooks and crannies. You could probably eat off the floor in there if you really want to but I wouldn't advise that. My back aches from hunching over the tub scrubbing. It's not super perfect but it's clean enough.

Probably going to take a quick lunch break and then move onto the bedroom. That's probably the easiest room in the house to take care of because it's the lowest maintenance. Just fix the bed and dust. I'm debating doing laundry today since Jesse works till 8:30. It's a super small, maybe 2 loads. But that would require me to scrounge up some laundry money and I don't know if there's any quarters or dollars lying around the house?

Despite Jesse's months of saving coke bottles for targets, I'm throwing them away. I can't stand looking at them anymore piling up by the door. Literally, if I could find a recycling center somewhere I could probably get enough money right there to do our laundry. Hahah.

I'm totally doing that "nesting" thing. I want the place to be spotless clean. I'm already visualizing ways to maximize our space, partially by creating a junk chest, for lack of better words, which would have a padded lid on top so when it's shut it looks like a bench you could sit on. This would not only hid crap and potentially keep dangerous things out of baby finger's reach, but also provide extra sitting space for company. Much like many great ideas I have, I doubt this will ever pan out. Oh well.

3:21 PM
Bedroom is cleaned. Not much to do in there as stated earlier. It's raining lightly on and off. Snow is still present outside but a lot of it melted this morning thank god. Rush is on right now and my ligaments are starting to hurt so I'm not really in a good mood. I need to find a recipe for the pheasant we have in the fridge. One of Jesse's coworkers shot a bunch of pheasant and gave him one. I'm thinking just doing it like a turkey. But we'll see.

At this point I'm debating starting a little lunch or just waiting till after I get another pert of the house cleaned. There really isn't as much to do in the living room as I thought. I probably would prefer to have lunch in a clean house and not have to worry about doing work later on but I dunno.

I wish I had one of those little grocery carts the old Asian ladies have. I'd totally strap my laundry basket to it and go do laundry or something.

3:52 PM
Hunger pains overpower desires to clean. Broke down and had some PB & J and a glass of water and watched Project Runway.

I'm pretty tired right now but I know if I stop to take a break or nap or whatever, I'll never get things done. So at this point I think the best game plan is to pee and get back to work. Ugh.

5:42 PM
Cleaning is done. Well, done enough. All that's left is to put up the dishes that are drying but that's not really an issue. Things are nice and clean now. All I need is to find a pheasant recipe that screams at me. I haven't found anything online yet that looks good. Everything is a little too fancy pants gourmet. I was hoping for more like a turkey type recipe. I dunno. We'll see what happens.

But yea, all is said and done. It bothers me that even though I cleaned, the place still looks like shit. We need to work on storage space for things or something so I don't feel like I'm living in a garage but in an apartment. Thank god the rain and snow are done with.

Sunday, February 24, 2008


1. Woke up this morning to a surprise of no ligament pain. Just magically over night it went from sever to obsolete. Go figure.

2. Didn't do shit today. Woke up around 10 and laid in bed with the pug dog and Jesse for an hour or so. Made pancakes and went back to bed. Slept till 2:30 or so, a rarity for me. It was nice to play make-up on lost sleep for the last two weeks.

3. Woke up from nap to find snow. Dammit. Sat around and talked about going to Walmart for two hours. Never went.

4. Took a bath. Oddly enough, the water stayed warm the whole time.

5. Made dinner and cupcakes.

6. Sitting around trying to find a good place for Reiki that isn't too expensive, even though I don't have any fun money in my budget till after August. Doesn't hurt to dream I suppose.

7. Jesse aka Randy is on the phone with Phil aka Travis. I've lost him for the night.

8. As per usual nightly rituals, the ligaments are starting to hurt again. I guess I wasn't that lucky. Boobs hurt too. Being pregnant sucks. I want to lay in bed and cuddle but Jesse is having man-phone-chat-time with Phil. Oh well.

9. I'm not gonna clean up after dinner tonight. I'm tired still even though I slept most of the day and I'll probably do the same tomorrow.

10. There's like a foot of snow outside our place. We weren't supposed to get more than 2". Stupid weather forecaster people. If I made the mistakes they made at my job, I'd get fired. But they don't because it's so unpredictable. Bull poop.

Ok, I think I'm gonna go to bed now.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Pain scare

So, about my lovely pains. I couldn't hang anymore. I called the doctors this morning and left a message to speak to a nurse. They talked to me for about 10 minutes and said "Ok, I'm going to talk to a doctor, I'll be right back." I was put on hold. They then told me to come in right away. They thought I might be going into preterm labor, which I had already ruled out because even though I'm no specialist on giving birth, I'm pretty sure labor doesn't feel like this. The other thought was that I might have a blood clot. Either way, they wanted to see me. So I left work and got in and out. Turns out it's just those nasty ligaments. Those evil bastards are ruining my life! When I'm done being pregnant I'm gonna throw them away or something. Ok maybe not that extreme, but I did find out my blood sugar results came back good and now I don't need to go in next week. Yay. But I do need to go in 2 weeks from now. And so starts the bi-monthly appointments. Ugh. That just means I'm getting closer and closer to birth. Eek. Scary!!! They told me to get some support belt thing. Great, thank you for making my fat ass feel even fatter. But I can take Tylenol PM to help with the sleeping so that's good. That's all.

The Gimp

I'll try to take this lightheartedly as it's a somewhat serious issue. Ok, I know we've all seen Pulp Fiction out here, so, think to the pawn shop scene, that cheezy horn infused 60's burlesque music. Ok, now that you've got that in your head, read on:

Since before my last doctor's appointment on Feb. 1, I've had nothing but pain. Mostly back and abdominal but there's been an onslaught of new pain coming from my legs. Originally it started at my back and was shooting down my butt and down my thighs, but this new pain is way worse.

For those of you who have ever been on a horse, I say, think to the time you first rode and that pain you had between your legs when you got off. How you walked like a gimp for an hour or so till it went away. Well, magnify that groin pain by 1,000 and instead of it going away when you walk it off, it gets worse. And it becomes more intense when you sleep. And when you get up to pee at night, you need to hold on to every piece of furniture for support so you don't fall and your torso needs to be at a 45º angle or else the pain is worse and joined with abdominal pain. (Note: I use the word pain, not cramp as I feel cramp has connotations to something uncomfortable but that goes away.) When you do something as simple as trying to roll over onto your side when sleeping, you need to grab hold of the mattress and use your arms to turn your body as using your legs hurts too much and the pain you get from moving with upper body strength is a lot less than that of lower body strength.

So what's with the gimp music you ask? I dunno. I just can't help but think of it whenever I think of my pain and trying to get around. Partially because when I walk I look like I've been forcefully f'd in the butt or something. I try to overlook my nightly pains as some sort of hilarious slapstick act or something but even then I don't know if that helps any.

Anyway, the pain is getting worse. It's starting to hang out during the day now. I'm not sure how to deal with this at work. I feel like I'm trying to carry a bowling ball between my legs and if I drop it, I dunno. I just walk like an idiot and have all sorts of discomfort on top of it all. I'm pretty cool about things. But I've tried everything. Increasing my fluids. Taking warm baths. Taking Tylenol. Moving around. Not moving around. Nothing works. So I give up. I finally broke down and had to call the doctors to speak to a nurse even though I have an appointment next Friday. I just can't take this pain anymore.

***** UPDATE: Baby Name *****

There you have it kids. Sure it took us 28 weeks to figure this out but at least now we have a name!

Thursday, February 21, 2008

That sinking feeling...

My chair at work doesn't approve of me being pregnant. I like to sit up high but I find that over the course of a few hours he slowly sinks down down down to the lowest possible position. Then I feel all weird and thrown off as if something happened and I can't control it. I hate it! I feel like I'm losing control of my life! Nothing works right anymore! Even the fucking chair hates me! Why!?!?

***** UPDATE: Jack in the Box ******

Last Thursday was the Jack in the Box incident (read back a few blogs for the details.) The Friday after I got an apology email from corporate and the said they'd send a gift certificate to make up for my experience and would handle the matter.

Today I forgot my lunch. But I remembered I had the gift certificate. I thought, fuck it, a free lunch is better than no lunch, even if I do have to deal with the same lot of idiots. I go inside and the lunch crowd is in full swing. Much to my surprise, I do not recognize any of the faces from last week. It's a new group of Hispanic employees, but they all speak English and very well I might add. They were all clean cut and friendly, much like my old staff. They were prompt, didn't mess up a single thing and it was just nice to feel like you were being taken care of again. I know it's just fast food but there's principals involved. The guy who took my order today, "Alfonso", even managed to carry out small talk conversation with me while ordering. And while he looked very Hispanic and had a Hispanic name, he didn't succumb to the Spanish-Spanish alliance with the next customers in line who were also Hispanic. He greeted them the same as he greeted me, in English. They proceeded to order in Spanish but he spoke to them in English. Hahah! Apparently La Raza is not welcomed in Northern Nevada or corporate America, despite what anyone wants to think. After today, I had this really good feeling that I still do live in America and that despite what people in metropolitan cities close to South America think, there is a vast country that doesn't agree with them and still holds true to the American beliefs. I feel like justice was served and I got a free lunch on top of it all. This made my day a little better. :)

A little depressing sometimes

Yesterday when I was rummaging the coupons from Sunday's paper at the other office, our business manager was asking about my baby situation. I told her slightly about the registry and what not how I had started it. Granted I haven't set foot inside a single store, it's all been done completely online. I'm guessing it would probably be a chore and a half to get Jesse to take me to do the registry or if he did he wouldn't want to be there all day. Shopping isn't his forte. Anyway, she was asking if I had a theme yet. A theme? For what? The living room? Because that's where the baby is going. I told her we're not moving in May. Financially we can't do it. Jesse isn't up to it. I'm not up to it. We'll just live amidst more clutter for another year. Our kid is going to be in a portable crib because there's not enough room for a full sized one. I'm guessing we'll probably need to get some tupperware storage bins to put his clothes in and put it under the crib or something if there's room. People who have asked me about "the registry" ask why I don't have more things for the baby to do like have those bouncy chairs or a swing. I don't even know where we'll put the stroller. I need to go through and reassess some of my crap and do some serious trashing. Jesse can't trash his stuff, it's all tools. I threw out a lot of stuff when we moved up. All I have left are basic necessities. I'm just really depressed whenever people ask me about things as if because I can't have this stuff, its going to somehow make me an un-fit mother. Does Jesse deal with any of this crap? He probably doesn't sit around talking about this kinda thing at his work. I don't think it's really a "guy" thing to do, discussing children. I'm just really depressed about all of this. I feel like I'm not capable of giving my child the life he deserves. That plus the fact his own father doesn't want to go to the baby shower and my body hurts and feels all out of whack and great, now I'm having dizziness while sitting in a chair! Seriously?! I don't know anymore! I need to eat soon or something. I just feel like things are falling apart and there's nothing I can do about it.

Losing "it"

Once again, another night with horrible "sleep" if you want to call it that. I suppose I would, after all it's sporadic shutting of eyes and opening them. Last night I tried so hard to sleep. If it wasn't one thing it was another. It was the back, or the legs, or a new one: the popping gas bubble in my chest. If it wasn't that, it was the baby kicking, or the radio keeping me up, or the sound of the power going out and making the radio turn to static fuzz, and the phone beeping when the power went out, the computer and printer turning off. The pug dog snoring. Jesse snoring. All those frustrations tied in with feelings of being alone on things, well, I'm pretty much to the point where I'm starting to lose it and on the verge of a break down or something. It's bad enough it's started last night but it just seems to be escalating to a point of no control. I feel as if I don't have control of elements in my life and they are drastically affecting me in every way, shape, and form. And the only advice I seem to get from anyone is to drink liquids or use pillows and that will take care of the pain. I tried that and all it does is make me pee more and the pillows make it more difficult for me to get up and out of bed. As for other issues I can't control, under normal circumstances I would be told to just get over it and move on but I'm not sure I can. They seem pretty important to me and yes, it is a big deal. I just feel like I'm the one carrying this baby around for 9 months, I'm the one who pays for the doctors and deals with the back pain and body aches and physical and emotional discomforts and when I have one simple request I'm treated like I'm asking for the impossible simply because it's not of interest or an inconvenience or something. And even still as hurt as I am I still manage to go about doing things. I made dinner. I fixed the bed. I even found time for a bath where I soaked to a spongelike state and the water got cold. I'm not asking for the world. Just some of your time.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

I'm so glad my husband isn't a doofus!!!

So apparently I'm of a lucky breed that has a husband that's not a complete moron. I constantly hear of one woman's husband who sounds like before he was married, it is a mystery as to how he survived. Last week the guy was sick and wanted something to eat and his wife was coming home from work and she told him to have soup. Well he didn't want soup because he was sick and had soup for the last two days and he wanted pizza, but he wanted her to get the pizza. As if delivery places are completely unexistent, right? Well today there were issues about the kids and stuff. She wants to get one of the kids involved in something and figures sports, the husband can do this. He can be involved instead of her always being the one to do things. So he calls her and is saying stuff about how he found something for $75 but doesn't have details as to where it's at, how often practices are, etc. After she got off the phone she sounded like she was ready to give up. She was like "What the hell!? Does he do this at his work? Get told to do something and have someone else do it!?" She had a point. She just asked the guy to do a simple thing to be involved with his kids. The guy sounds totally non-functional. Like the type of guy who's mom did everything for him and now that he's married his wife does everything for him. Part of the reason Dr. Laura is so against women marrying mama's boys. Yea. All I can say is I am so glad my husband isn't some kind of incapable idiot. Everyone tells me things like "See what you have to look forward to with bla" and I'm like "Nah, my husband is good. He doesn't do things like Valentine's Day or whatever but at least he does the dishes sometimes or cooks dinner or buys dinner if I'm not feeling up to cooking." I think a lot of women I know are jealous that I have such a good husband. Honestly, I'd be too if I weren't married to him.

I give up

I feel as though I am at my wits end. Under normal conditions lack of sleep isn't a huge factor in drastically affecting my life, but I'm not in normal conditions. For starters, I'm pregnant. On top of it all, I'm on one of my downer moods. My body hurts. My head hurts. My feelings are hurt. Nothing I can do can make anything better. Everything and anything seems to make things worse. I don't feel like eating or drinking anything. I want to lay in bed and sleep all day except I can't because I can't get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Instead I lay there uncomfortable and eventually break out crying because I am trying so hard to sleep. Sleep is a natural act. It comes to you. I am in so much pain sometimes that I just can't accomplish this. I don't know what to do anymore. And on top of it all, it's just going to get worse. I feel so hopeless and all I want is to sleep, even if it's just for one night. Sleep without the tossing and the turning and the cramping and the back aches and sciatic nerve pain or heartburn or baby kicking. Just one night, is that too much to ask for? I don't know what to do to make this better. I just hear "It's normal" and "drink more fluids". Well shit, I drink more fluids and I'm pissing all the time. And when that happens, I have the joys of ligament pains to deal with in my sluggish attempts to get out of bed. I don't know what to do. I'm frustrated and it's making me cranky and making everything in life seem like a big deal and I just can't hang. I get bent out of shape and it's like certain people seem to know the right words to rub in the frustrations and make things worse by adding new problems and kicking me when I'm down. Just one night, is that too much to ask for? Or at least a back rub or something.

Where's the magic sleep fairy when you need it???

I feel like a zombie every morning. I go to bed each night, relatively early, anywhere between 9 and 10:30. I lay my head on two pillows. I have another pillow propped between my legs. And Ray Ray usually is tucked under my tummy. This position works for 30 - 60 minutes before I need to rotate. So the task of flipping 180º comes up and I do so. A position change every 30 - 60 minutes, that's anywhere from 10 - 20 times during the night. It's not like a natural sleeping change of position where you can do it and still be asleep. See weird things happen with my body in this state of sleep. Blood doesn't circulate as well. There's a lot more of it to work with and sometimes it seems like it just hangs out in certain spots. Other times, the baby might hang out on my sciatic nerve, causing extreme pain and discomfort that shoots from my back down my butt to my leg. And there's always those darned ligament pains under my belly. God bless them for ever growing! Needless to speak, any position change needs to be very carefully executed. It can't just be a flop and turn. No, it's a long slow process that can sometimes take a minute or longer to execute. And this doesn't even bring up the issue of getting up at night to pee! Anyway, moral of story, sometimes I can get an hour or two of sleep in here and there, but for the most part, I can't sleep for shit. It's taking a toll on me. It's making me cranky, very worn out, I haven't done shit in ages. I'm slacking on cleaning and cooking. I don't like this at all. But at the same time I can't do anything to make it better. I try Tylenol. I try pillows. I try drinking more fluids. Nothing works. Jesse is frustrated too because he can't do anything to fix it. So basically I have taken a huge interest in Coast To Coast as it is the only thing that can keep my mind off the pain at night, but dammit I don't want to listen to the radio all night long, I want to sleep! And I can't listen to some of the shows cos they freak me out sometimes and I get all paranoid anytime I hear a sound. Speaking of which, any little sound I hear freaks me out. Then I get worried about Lulu and how she sleeps by our feet under the covers and how that's probably not good for her. I dunno. I wish I had a magic sleep fairy that would wave it's wand and make me sleep and not wake up till morning. Not even to pee at night. Sigh.

Bring Bri Justice...but forget about the other girls...

The scandal that has rocked Northern Nevada since January 20th was the abduction of Brianna Denison, the 19 year old college girl who was taken from the living room of her friends' house. The story was sugar coated. A sweet college girl and her friends came home, someone took her, and at first people were questioning boyfriend problems. There was faint mention by the news that the girls had been out partying that night, a key factor that resulted in 19 year old Brianna passing out on the couch with the door into the house completely open. Hence there was no sign of forced entry, which would have woken any of the girls up, not to mention maybe even convince Brianna's abductor to not even try to get in in th first place. None the less, the scene of the crime did show evidence of blood, pointing to an assault of sorts. Messed up, yes. But still, not reasonable cause to make Brianna the martyr everyone was depicting her as.

Well a month later they find her body out in South East Reno. Evidence shows the body was dumped there before the snow. People suspect the man who did this knows the area and may even be a local. DNA links the man to other rapes of UNR students. Why is Brianna the one getting all the attention? Other girls were victims of this man. They were the ones who were able to provide descriptions of him for forensics artists. Because Brianna's family has a lot of money they were able to publicize her abduction.

Yea, it's unfortunate what happened. There's some sicko out in the world raping young girls. Jesse said on Sunday after they confirmed the body was Brianna's, he never saw so many young girls trying to buy guns. They sold out of their home defense shotguns. Anyway, I believe a lot of times people are victims of circumstances. If you are getting so drunk you pass out with a door open, you allow crimes to happen. If you are out late alone in a bad neighborhood, you allow crimes to happen. Even if you are out alone in a good neighborhood you run that potential risk of something happening. You need to realize, if you plan on being out late, be armed or don't go alone. If you are going out drinking, have someone sober with you to control the group and keep an eye out for crime. There's a lot of stuff people can do to make their lives safer. Granted sometimes you can't avoid what happens, armed, sober, in groups, if there's a total nut job, they'll get you regardless. I guess it's just frustrating to hear about this happening but Brianna is the one who is getting all the attention even though she was the one who was passed out drunk with an open door, mind you she was under age as well. The other girls who were raped on or near the UNR campus were simply coming home from studying or classes. They were the innocent good girls. Not some passed out underage drunk girl. I'm not saying what happened to Brianna was right. Although I don't believe the nice innocent martyr portrayal she has been given is right. Just face it, she wasn't sweet and innocent. Maybe she was nice, but regardless, even if she were drunk, that doesn't change the fact there's some rapist/murderer on the loose. You don't need to sugar coat her story or anything to make people understand there is a very bad person doing very bad things in the world. They'll get it. And can someone please acknowledge that there are other poor girls who were raped by this man but lived to tell about it?

Tuesday, February 19, 2008


So I'm now in my third trimester. We have 12 weeks left till our still-yet-to-be-named son is born. We're trying to figure out names. Both of us seem a little lost on this one. We know we want something traditional sounding. I think I might be a little pickier about all of this than Jesse because I have slightly different standards. I want a traditional name, preferably something strong sounding. Like the kind of name when you meet and shake hands you have a really good first impression. I dunno. I know it sounds cheesy but yea. So I was browsing around some names and I found a few I like but I'm not sure a lot of them really jump out at me. We also wanted to have something gun related in the name but avoid cliches like Hunter, Gunner, Smith and/or Wesson, etc. At this point I think we're both agreeing on the gun part of the name to be Sig as a middle name. So here's some names I've found that are traditional I like. Some don't really jump out at me, but I dunno.

Adam Sig Teague - Traditional but I can't say I'm super fond of it.
Charles Sig Teague - I like this. It sounds pretty bad ass. Like he could be some sort of really hard working gunsmith or a vigilanty or something.
Daniel Sig Teague - Also like this. Has a strong hard worker sound to it.
James Sig Teague - Like as well. Seems really traditional and makes me think of Dio haha.
Josef Sig Teague - Its German. Not super fond of it but it beats a yuppie name.
Louis Sig Teague - Once again, not super fond but it beats a yuppie name. Might get confused between us calling him Lou and us calling Lulu, Lu.
Paul Sig Teague - It's ok. Not super fond but it's better than some of the other choices.
Robert Sig Teague - I like the ability of Bobby for short but I think of King of the Hill. And the idea of Rob for short makes me think of Rob Halford, which is cool, but every guy I knew who went by Rob had kinda a feminine nature to them, so I'm not 100% on this one.
Thomas Sig Teague - An ok traditional name, but it doesn't jump out at me.

Anyway, I guess if I had to narrow my choices down, I'd say I like Charles, Daniel and James. I don't have any issues with having a Charlie running around, or a Danny/Daniel-son/Dan, or a Jamie. Nicknames of any of the following names are also important in this consideration. Any other suggestions and or input on this? People keep asking about the dreaded topic of THE NAME. Help!

Monday, February 18, 2008

Out of commission for the day

So it's almost 3:00. I haven't done anything really. I fixed the bed and straightened up around the house, but I don't think I'm going to do any massive cleaning or go anywhere today. I'm liking the idea right now of just staying home, possibly concocting a lunch and a salad and sitting down in the comfy chair and watching tv for the rest of the day. I think that'll work. Ceasar salads are never a bad idea... I didn't sleep well again last night. I've been having really bad pain in my legs whilst sleeping. Pillows don't help. Moving helps get the blood flowing but I seem to have some sort of circulation issues at night. I should bring this up to the doctors next week. But yeah, I'm not feeling up to doing anything for the rest of this day. That's all...

What would Charles Bronson do???

So I got this great idea pertaining to the drug deal I witnessed and have evidence of from this morning. I was thinking, I saw what happened. They have no idea of this. There are several places in this area of people who could have seen something. I saw who the buyer was. I saw the place she went back to. What if, hypothetically speaking, a letter were composed stating that someone has evidence of their crime and will send it to the police and have them and their dealer arrested, unless they leave a bag of money at some undisclosed location. If the money is not received by a certain date, they will be reported. This does one of two things: 1. it puts money in my hands, and 2. it keeps them from dealing in front of our apartment. There's any number of people who could have seen it so they can't pinpoint who saw what. I need to keep my eye out on this situation to get a precise location of whether this girl lives in one of the apartments or one of the houses. I'm not 100%, more like 70%. I know the area she came from but it could go to a house or apartment. Whatever the case is, I like the blackmail element. It makes me think of the second Death Wish movie where the old people start to regulate against the hoodlums and I think of the guy who breaks into the building and gets whacked in the face or how Charles Bronson hammered nails to a board and put it under his window and came home to see bloody footprints leaving the building. Hehehe. I just feel like if I send the shit to the cops or call them on it, maybe they'll do something, maybe not. It'll probably just be a case of "Ok, we have this evidence. We'll put it in the file bin." But this idea I have, well that's like the type of street justice Charles Bronson would do. It's a real good idea, you gotta admit it. If nothing else maybe it'll scare people out of dealing in our neighborhood.


So I was getting dressed to take the pug out to get new keys and I hear a car in our parking lot. As we always do, I sorta peeked outside to see who was home. It was a new car. One who doesn't live here. Then I see some Hispanic girl from across the alley walking over in her pajamas. She goes over to the guy's window but then I guess he tells her to get inside because that's a little obvious. She gets out a hand full of cash. Interesting. A drug deal in OUR parking spot. I'll have none of that. Somehow I manage to get video of the whole deal, not to mention images of both suspects and a clear shot of the car and license plate. Sorry, but I'm not the type to sit and allow crime to happen on my watch. Whatever. I have very specific detailed evidence against them. We'll see what happens next...

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Wild Island!!!

I told Jesse I wanted to do something fun for my birthday. We did just that. Instead of going out last night, we went out today and it was all sorts of fun! We headed east to Sparks to go to Wild Island Fun Zone or whatever. We started the day out with a game of mini golf. We paid to play both courses and got blueberry slushies. After our first round of golf, we took a time out and rode go-karts. Apparently you're not allowed to ride if you're pregnant, but the guys working the carts as well as myself didn't seem to care. Jesse totally owned on everyone in there. I was the last person to get out on the course and he managed to surpass me in the end! So when we finished go-karts, we went out to play the other course of mini golf. I totally beat Jesse at mini golf on both games, but that's ok cos he beat me at the go-karts and bowling. Yes, we also did bowling. But first we got a quick bite to eat for lunch, THEN we bowled. We did two games and Jesse totally owned on me. I commented that he looked really gay in the neon bowling shoes they had but he got me back by pointing out the fact I was the one who was wearing a shirt that matched the shoes. Long story short, we spent the day out there and it was a lot of fun. Just proof that because you're an adult fun doesn't need to be had involving alcohol. We had more than enough fun completely sober. Also it was one of those things we know we'll be really good parents because we kept saying how we can't wait till our son could do this or that or we could take him here or there. Not things like "We won't be able to do this or that when we have our son." Quite frankly, neither of us can wait to have our son as it will simply be an excuse for us to relive the things we enjoyed about our childhoods so much. Moral of the story, just because you're an adult doesn't mean you're not allowed to do things you enjoyed as a child. We had a really fun day. And we're planning on returning again for more go-kart action. :)

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Yeah, that's not cool...

Jesse and I were doing our grocery shopping at Wally World today. Aside from our normal groceries we got some other goodies. We got a "spring/summer" bedding set up. Partially due to the fact after Lulu crapped on the sheets we realized it's probably a good idea to have back up sheets, and with that in mind plus the fact I may or may not have my water break in 3 months from now, we should invest in one of those vinyl water proof mattress covers. So we couldn't get new sheets and all that without getting a padded mattress cover so we don't feel like we're slipping around. I got green sheets and we got a cute little cream/green/blue quilt to go with it. Yay. I also got a new bra to fit my ever growing pregnant boobs. Apparently I've gone up a cup size and I don't even have any milk in the suckers yet! Don't get me wrong, I like having bigger boobs, but I fear how ginormous they might get when the milk shows up a few days after birth. Ugh. And apparently my chest has expanded too. But that's partially from stomach growth making ribs expand for room for everything. Something about being pregnant, you grow but you don't appear to look bigger aside from the obvious tummy, but the rest of your body that grows seems to be proportionate and not look ridiculous. I'm sure if my chest and boobs were the size they are now when I wasn't pregnant, I'd look like one of those alien hybrid women with big boobs little waists and vaginas who are placed on the earth for the shear purpose of sex (a theory Phil informed me of, which, yes, I have seen too many of that breed back home haha!) But yea, shopping for a preggo bra is kind of weird because you grow everywhere but then you need to take into account you're going to grow more. Most of the bras I tried on are like over the top coverage. Like I might as well be wearing a tank top with underwire or something, you know? The cutest one I could find was a nude color and it was the most comfortable and best fitting. But it's cool cos it's stretchy so it'll have room to grow. Plus it looks like something I would buy pre-pregnancy. I'm not a fan of the theory that just because your boobs are dripping shit that means you can't have a cute bra and you are cursed to something functional. Fuck that. Ok too much about bras. Anyway, when we were leaving Wally World there was this scumbag lady and her two shit kids in front of us about 20 feet or so. They had a cart full of food. Then there was this older lady coming head on. She dropped some stuff. At first I thought she littered but then the scumbag lady in front of us totally runs over to the shit she dropped, totally ignoring her kids who were in the middle of the parking lot where they easily could have been hit by a car. The old lady was in a hurry to get into the store as it was fairly cold outside. As we got closer I realized the old lady dropped 3 bills of sorts. They could have been ones, or fives or tens or twenties. Thing is, I'm guessing that was her grocery money. The way scumbag lady ran up to it, I thought she was going to "do the right thing" as Dr. Laura would advise. But no, this was her lucky day. She now has anywhere between $3 or up to $60 depending on what the value of the currency was. And somewhere in Walmart is some poor older lady who is going to do her grocery shopping and go up to the register to pay to find she does not have her money. She will be perplexed by the idea that she knew she brought it, can't quite figure out where she put it. This is probably the only money she has to spend till she gets paid again. Maybe she too has a family to feed, who will now go hungry for another week or so till they get paid again. Thing is, scumbag lady totally took that money and she saw the lady drop it. She could have said, "HEY YOU DROPPED YOUR MONEY!" But no, instead she took it. And then her and her little asshole in training kids went over to their new Denali, she put their groceries in the car, lit up a cigarette, counted the money and drove off. Normally, I don't give a shit if I find money on the floor. But that's found money in which the owner is unknown. She saw the lady drop it. She knew just as well as we did that this lady was the owner, and that was probably all the money she had. To just allow that lady to walk off without saying anything to her was fucked up. When we got close enough for me to actually make out that it was in fact money, I turned around to see if the lady was still anywhere to be found, but she must have made it inside by that time. If my eyes were better and I had seen it, I would have called her out on it, just to make sure scumbag lady didn't get to walk off so lucky. That situation really pisses me off. I hope karma bites that scumbag in the ass hard. And hopefully that old lady has some sort of financial reserve or hopefully it was only $3 she dropped and not more. $ means the cats don't get to eat and she can make some rice or something for them and share her food. But $60? That's her food and the cat's. Maybe she'll have some odd stroke of luck and find a $100 on the floor in the bathroom or something....

Happy birthday to me...

Another year down, another year closer to death. Hooray.

Well, I guess even though I'm at work I have decided to have a special birthday lunch date with myself to celebrate. It'll probably be something like take myself out to eat and buy myself something to wear at the chunty clothing store down the street since I get an additional 20% off my purchase the week of my birthday. I'll probably get some more t-shirts. They have really nice cheap stretchy shirts there that cover my pregnant as really well but are the type of layering style where I can wear them even after pregnant. Besides, half my maternity shirts have come from there at ridiculously low prices. I'm talking like clearance rack things I find for $4 that are 50% off lowest price and an additional 10% cos I have their discount card so I get them for under $2. It's out of control!

I'm waiting to hear back from Jesse if the plans I want aren't shut down for the season. I've been wanting to go mini golfing for a long time. Or bowling. One of my coworkers told me of a cool bowling spot and lo and behold they also have mini golf! How excellent would it be to do both! And it's ridiculously cheap. 2 adults can bowl 2 games and golf 3 games for around $40. Trust me, that's a good deal. I recall me, Lori and Rene going mini golfing before I moved and that cost us like $40 for the 3 of us to play like 2 games or something.

So yea, if things work out as planned there is potential for innocent childlike fun to be had by all. I'm crossing my fingers!!!

Thursday, February 14, 2008

****** UPDATE: Jack in the Box ******

I get an email today from the customer service department at Jack in the Box corporate. They have informed me they are very sorry about my experience and have addressed the matters with the store manager. Hopefully I will get my old Jack in the Box staff back? Who knows. But they're sending me a gift certificate. I guess I feel like some justice was served. I'm guessing the manager probably got chewed out for their poor judgement in hiring and probably has to terminate those employees. And on top of it all, I get a free lunch. Or breakfast. Or dinner. Point is, I hate making corporate complaints. But honestly, when it comes to me not being able to be properly served because the person helping me didn't even speak English, well, come on. I mean, I wouldn't complain if I went to Mexico and ordered in English and my order got messed up because the cashier didn't know what I was saying, but this isn't the situation. I think if you are going to work somewhere where you deal with people, you should be required to know English. This isn't me being racist this is just me making a point. If I worked in Mexico, where everyone speaks Spanish, I would learn the language before applying for a service job where I deal with people. It only makes sense. Yeah.

Leaky faucets

Last night I had a dream I was in labor but I had access to a video from the future in my hospital showing what I had gone through to help move things along. Weird, I know.

This morning I wake up. Cramped as usual. Laying on my left side, partially on my arm, partially on Lulu. I hit snooze and went to hit it again and at that, I had felt a cold sticky feeling on my arm. I looked at it and was side tracked to a big wet spot on my shirt where my left boob lives. I had a moment of "drool? dog?" I get up and see more of the spot. No, not either of those. It was the dreaded attack of the leaky boob. It wasn't the usual little spot. it was like a torrential gushing that must have occurred sometime in those 9 minutes between my alarm originally going off and hitting snooze.

Seriously, this is getting old fast. And it's only going to get worse and heavier as I get closer to my due date. And then in the two or three days after my milk comes in, geez. It'll be a full on nightmare day AND night. This blows. Every time this happens I want to cry. More so now that it's no longer a little spot or two but now big dripping stain spots. It's just so humiliating and I feel weird talking about it.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008


I am so excited about some of these paper samples I got today that I created a whole concept around it. I know, I am sounding like a total nerd right now. I had to take a break and discuss how excited I am about this. It's one of those things I feel like will revolutionize the world. I am feeling totally manic about this and it's probably wrong for me, but I think it will be a very good thing for my client. I hope they're as excited about this as I am!

(Moments like this make me love my job and what I do and when I have jobs I am this passionate about doing, shit. I sit here smiling at the possibilities! I have this mental picture that this piece may very easily top my last piece. I feel like I am on the way to a creative climax. I truly am in love with my current project. I can't convey this in words!)

A new shipment of illegals???

Today was so lovely I thought I'd spend $3 at Jack in the Box and get The Big Deal. Best thing they've come up with there. 2 tacos, a chicken sandwich and a drink for $2.69 plus tax. Genius! I waddle down there and have to pee but the bathroom is locked. Ok, I'll order first then. I order from "Mirabel" who looks at me and is like "Eh, beegh deeeehl?" She then turns around looking for her manager for some sort of Spanish translation of what that is. The manager looks equally confused and was like, "Eh, we no have no more." I have that look of you've got to be fucking kidding me. So I order a chicken sandwich, fries and a medium drink. Upon which I feel super hungry and decide why not make it 2 chicken sandwiches. The girl rings up my order and it comes out to $4.18 and she says "Eh, es four one eighteen." I look at her in disgust wondering how someone who barely can even speak English is working here but whatever. I take my number, fill up on DrPepper and sit down browsing through this week's coupons in the paper. A few minutes later another border hopper comes and brings my food to the table. I look at it confused. I see two chicken sandwiches and no fries. I look at the receipt and see that "Mirabel" did not ring me up for fries. At this point I don't care. I figure I'll order them later if I still want them, none the less she should have got it right in the first place. Anyway, I ask the girl who brought my food out if I could get some ranch. She looks like she is more familiar with the English language and smiles and says "jes" and goes off. About two minutes later, as my food is cooling down she comes back with one Sweet and Sour Sauce and shows it to me and asks "Theese?" I look at her and say, "NO. I want RANCH. RANCH DRESSING? White sauce." She then walks off and brings over two ranch sauces. "Theese?" She shows me the sauce. "Yes. Thank you." But she only gives me one of them and walks off!!! What the hell!? Why did you bring me two if you're only going to give me one!? At this point I don't even care I just want to eat. So I eat and I keep wondering "where's my usual Jack in the Box English speaking Mexicans? What shipment of illegals did they get this new batch from?" I liked my old Jack in the Box staff. They were Mexican but they all spoke English very well. They never messed up on orders. They were friendly and if you had a question they knew how to answer it. They were basically like what Mexican fast food workers should be like. You know, a model example? There was also a white chick and a black guy who worked in that lot, but they took them away from me too. Now I have these border fresh people who don't know shit. The only thing that made my day after all that frustration was that while I was eating, ranch sauce fuck up girl decides that during the lunch rush is a good time to take out the trash, which wasn't even half full. It was maybe a quarter full. She takes the whole can out and closes the trash bin. As she's walking back, one of the day's geriatric customers walks over right in front of her wheeling the trash can and looks at her and throws his trash into the empty trash bin. It all falls onto the floor in front of her and he puts his tray on top of the trash and looks at her and says, "oh, I'm sorry." and walks off. I take it he must have had an incident with ranch sauce too? Oddly enough, she doesn't pick up the trash but wheels the trash can over it all! What the hell!? I'm half tempted to write a complaint to Jack in the Box about this... i might.

But seriously, THIS one made my day!!!!

After lunch, I'm waddling in all my pregnant glory across the parking lot from Jack in the Box to get back to work. I have a cup in my hand. The weather is nice today so I have a black skirt on and black ballet flats and a grey knit hoodie. Yes, I look soooo risque! This raised Bronco that sounds meaner than god knows what comes hauling ass through the parking lot and I waddle as fast as I can out of the way to avoid getting hit by it. Then it slows down and I hear a guy go "DAAAYYYYYYMMMMNN!!!!" I turn around and he's practically hanging out the back passenger side window and I was laughing hysterically and tell him "DUDE, I'M FUCKING PREGNANT!!!" He looks all booty hurt as if that wasn't a huge factor in his hitting on me and was like "You don't hafta be all stuck up!" I laughed harder and couldn't stop laughing till I got back to the office. I was a victim of hillbilly flirting tactics!!! He straight up hit on a pregnant lady! And it wasn't like I was two or three months pregnant, I'm a good six months, I have a very noticeable belly popping out in the front (although it's not so noticeable from behind so maybe he was commenting on my butt???) I'm still laughing over this one. Hahahah.

How it's made!!!

Last night Jesse's friend Phil called. We both vented for a bit about random stuff and sooner than later it turned out to be midnight and I had no idea where the time went to. I gave the phone to Jesse, took a shower and went to bed. He told me good luck getting up this morning since I went to bed so late.

At 6:30 we were awoken by a sick pug. Lulu made a boom in the bed. Then again on the floor. Jesse attributed it to us giving her some scraps that she wasn't ready yet and still sick. I think it was because she got into the trash and probably ate something bad. Anyway, I went back to bed and woke up for work. It was really nice outside. Right now it says its 43º but I think it's warmer than that. I'm trotting around in a skirt and no tights or anything and flats and it just is so lovely I might walk out to Jack in the Box and get something for lunch.

But the best part of today being such a lovely day. I totally forgot I had a field trip lined up to go to Registered Ink and see their plant and get paper samples. So a little before 10:00, Cherie, Sayuri and I drove down there. We got to see the printer presses going, all their different printers, cutters, binders, everything. It was like I was in an episode of How It's Made! Call me cheezy, but I thought it was a lot of fun! After the plant tour, we got to take home a bunch of paper samples of completed jobs, and samples of paper styles. I love seeing stuff being made and what not and how things are done and all that good stuff in between. We got some really cool ideas for cover idea concepts and I'm so excited!

So yea, that's my exciting day. The weather is so nice. I'm happy right now. Yay!

Monday, February 11, 2008

Oh Lu, you!

Lulu and I just got back from Coldstone's. She took me out for ice cream for my birthday. You silly pug! That's why I love you! Mommy pug is gonna sit in her comfy chair and wait for Daddy to get home. You gonna sit on my lap Lu Pug????

Sunday in a nutshell

As usual, my Sunday updates...

Woke up and the pug was feeling better, I was feeling sick. Went to bed and woke up around 10 when my mom called. Talked for a bit then hung out with pug on the couch recooping. She made diarrhea in the kitchen and we spent more time relaxing.

Mid day, I decide to clean the house. Lulu seems to be in better health now. She is eating rice and happy. The house is cleaned. We go to Coldstone's for ice cream and come home.

The weather was very nice all day today. Nice enough to where I had to turn the heater off and open the window for air as it was kind of warm in the house... to the point I was starting to break a little sweat while cleaning.

Lulu's poop is still runny but she seems to be at least healthier and happier. The day started off crappy but in the end I think all is well now. Especially the weather. It's so pleasant and warm. It's 59 degrees outside and cooling but it was warmer earlier. I'm guessing in the 60's. Everything seems so nice right now!

Pug health update

Last night after the diarrhea stint by the computer chair, I told Jesse she wasn't feeling well and had her laying down on the couch in a quilt. When Jesse got home you could tell she wanted to lay with her Daddy while Mommy was making cheesecake, so I put the quilt on Jesse's lap and carefully placed the pug up there where she stayed till she had to diarrhea again. She went on the floor then again in the kitchen. Jesse took her outside and I guess she didn't go. We put her back up on her quilt on the couch while Jesse was online. Later I was sitting with her and she threw up. Apparently one of the ribs she ate earlier that looked like a big chunk of meat had a big chunk of bone in it. I made a bowl of rice and we had her eat that in hopes of calming her tummy and making her poop a little more solid. After she ate some rice, Jesse went to take a shower and I went to bed with Lulu, who was feeling so crappy she didn't even try to jump onto the bed while it was being fixed like she normally does. She waited till it was done and then just as I was about to turn around to get her, she jumps up. I get in bed and she follows, laying down along my tummy. Jesse comes in later and he repositions her to her sleeping between Mommy and Daddy position since she was too sick to do it herself.

Everything was fine.

Until 4:00 AM. I dunno what the deal was but I felt really sick around 2:00 AM and felt myself starting to barf but managed to hold it down. After that I slept really light so when 4:00 AM came and the pug was totally knocked out and I heard SPLAT!!! I touched the pug who was now awake and was freaked out. I knew what happened and I took her to the bathroom, a hard surface, to continue whatever she was doing in her sleep. She had more diarrhea. I closed her in there and moved the carpet so if she did poop it wouldn't mess that up, even though she already got some on there. I then proceeded to the kitchen to get paper towels and Nature's Miracle to clean the reserve of diarrhea build up that came onto our bed. It was a huge mess, not the kind you want to have at 4:00 AM, but by that point, when I heard her little feet scootching around in the bathroom and a whimper come out at the sound of more splat, I didn't care so much about the mess as much as I did the health of my baby pug.

However, at 4:00 AM, after cleaning up the shit mess, Jesse took her outside to see if she had more and I guess he was carrying her because she felt so sick and couldn't even make it up or down the stairs, she went on his jacket. Because she seemed to not be able to control herself, we took some stuff out of the bathroom and put her rice and water in there as well as placed a towel on the floor and were being mean pug parents making her sleep in there in case she was still sick to make clean up easier in the morning.

So of course, I have Jesse turn down the radio so I could hear her the rest of the night, if she was still pooping or if she was sleeping or what. I didn't spend the next 4 hours sleeping very well. On top of it all, I feel like whatever Lulu had, I'm getting! My stomach kept churning like I was going to start with the diarrhea. Fortunately I didn't.

I kept thinking, with how Lulu was acting, not wanting to drink water or anything, that if she kept this up, we would need to take her to the vet tomorrow to see what was wrong with her and possibly have fluids injected to her via an IV. I was hoping that if that were the case, Jesse could take whatever money he had for any birthday or valentine's day plans and pay for the vet. After all, my baby pug is more important than any of that crap. However, I woke up early and opened the bathroom door to see a little pug dog laying on the towel. The minute the door opened more than a crack she jumped to her feet, wagging her tail, excited to see her mommy. Yes, my healthy, happy spirited pug was back. Hopefully whatever was in her is all out and gone now. I really dislike seeing my baby pug sick and not being able to do anything about it. So, on that note, even though she's laying down enjoying her heater now, I'll probably go scoop her up and pet her on the couch or the comfy chair or something.


My biggest gripe at this point about being pregnant isn't the heartburn or cramping or back aches. No, it's something I know absolutely nothing about and have no idea how to stop! It's the problem of colostrum. Cramps and back pain can be controlled with Tylenol. Heartburn can go away with Tums. Colostrum leaks from my boobs at random. Sometimes its just like a little water drop size that comes out and that's that. Other times it seems like it's a few water drop sizes that result in water spot stains on my pajamas.

I asked one of my friends who had kids about this and how soon she started having this problem. She had this problem at 5 months. Thank god I didn't turn into a cow that early. But she said it only gets worse after birth and after your milk comes in. That the milk leaks whenever your baby cries, when you think it might be hungry, if you're concerned about it's health, well being, whatever.

I suppose with Lulu's sickness the last day, my mommy instincts must be working. This concern of my pug baby has been causing stupid leaking from my boobs all morning. She was sleeping on the couch and I was a little concerned maybe she wasn't feeling well and I had some slight dripping. But then, a little later in the day she made a diarrhea in the kitchen and I was worried she's still sick. I put her down by the heater and tried to comfort her. Within minutes I feel that cold wet sticky feeling and sure enough, my boob is dripping. Except this time it kept dripping. Little drops would come out over the course of the next couple of minutes. Ugh!

I don't like feeling like some sort of cow dripping moo juice from my boobs. Or shall I say boob. It seems like the right boob is the one that does all the dripping. The left one is lagging. I don't get it. I just know it makes my nipples hurt. Like they feel all tingly and sore. I want cookies.

Why yes, Lulu, that sounds like a fantastic idea!

Lu Pug, you have the most wondeful ideas sometimes. Walking down to Coldstone's and getting Mommy's free birthday ice cream sounds fantastic right about now! You and I both woke up feeling kinda crappy this morning, but after we got through the day a little more, we're feeling better and the house is all cleaned up now and it's such a lovely day, why not? Let's go!

Traumatized!!! (disturbing. graphic?)

Being pregnant holds lots of mysteries. Most of which mothers or friends won't tell you about. They tell you about things like when the baby starts to kick or how you get morning sickness or weird food cravings. They don't tell you about the weird crap. Like how you pee every hour or have unexplainable back pain or how your boobs hurt more than anything else in the world and feel like all the blood in your body is rushing to your boobs when you stand up and they tingle and hurt like when your foot falls asleep and you stand up on it. Anyway, there are many-a-mysteries of pregnancy that I have no idea what to look forward to. I ask people "what happens now?" and they smile and say things like "oh don't worry, don't stress yourself you'll be fine." I'm sorry, that does NOT suffice.

So tonight was one of those nights where I was brought on by one of those new "being pregnant" bodily changes that I'm not sure what to make of it.

Everyone knows I have an irrational fear of whipped cream and gels and other things. But another one of my irrational fears is of breast feeding. I know this is the point where women and men alike will start pointing fingers and saying "it's natural" and "it's beautiful" and "it's good for the baby's health" and "you bond" and all sorts of logical attacks that make me feel like some sort of damned idiot, because, yes, it is an irrational fear and I can't explain it. I just think the concept of it is gross. Stuff dripping from your boobs. A little thing latched onto that boob. Women who do it in public because it's natural as if the world needs to see them doing this to which I say, sex is natural too, do we need to see you fornicate in public too? And let's not forget the weird crap that happens like the cracking bloody nipples and breast infections and engorgement. Stuff books tell you a little about but don't go into details. I mean, I'm having this mental picture of like a kid breast feeding, finishing, and then mom is left with some sort of nipple that's all cut up and lacerated looking, gushing with blood, or like dripping blood or something. I mean, this is a good reason to be afraid, right? I'm not being irrational here now, am I?

So yea, that aside, I was on the computer a little while ago and my boob felt kinda itchy and tingly. I sorta put a little pressure and rub/scratched it and it felt cold. Naturally my warm finger up near that area should feel warmer? So I unzip my hoodie and see a wet spot. I lift up my shirt and see this disgusting clear dripping coming from my boobie and it freaked me out. I feel really traumatized right now. I just fear now that my boobs will be leaking all the time or something and it is a weird feeling and I'm really uncomfortable with it and I feel all disgusting or dirty and shameful for some reason. I'm having one of those moments right now where I wish I had a psychiatrist out here so I could consult with them about this to get over this feeling of disgust. It's like one of those feelings where you get your period. You know it'll happen one day but you're not sure when it'll happen or what it'll be like. Then when it finally happens you feel really gross and like you did something wrong. I dunno. I need some psychiatric help on this one.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Pug dog flavored kisses

Today was all about Lulu. This morning she got a bath and her teeth brushed and then we took her to Petco for the Valentine's Pet Party. It wasn't anything special. They took really crappy poloroids of your pet and put it in a card, then they had a make your own cookie thing, and a pet kissing contest. Well, knowing Lulu, we entered her in the kissing contest. She was super excited to see all the different doggies and must have forgotten how much she loves to kiss her Daddy. She gave him a very weak little kiss but was too preoccupied looking around at what was going on. And, of course, she took a dump on the floor. A nice runny dump Mommy had to wipe up. Anyway, she was out of the house for an hour with this ruckus. And on top of her getting a special cookie made by Mommy, Daddy bought her a new Nylabone and some stogies. So she was a happy pug. But then, when she got home, Daddy ate Mommy's leftover ribs from Oakland BBQ last night and she got to chew on the bones and get the last of the meat off. Talk about a happy pug!

Somewhere throughout the course of today, between taking the pug out, peeing eight billion times, and having all sorts of random ass cramps, I decided we're going to be a family of 4: Daddy, Mommy, Lu Pug, and the still yet to be named Tot. I don't think I can deal with more than one kid. Yea, its nice to have sets for the kid's entertainment sake but the way I see it, kids make friends and don't need siblings to occupy their time. I mean, even though Lori and I did a lot of stuff together, we still have our own individual lives. Quite frankly I don't think our child will need a sibling. He'll have his parents and Lu Pug if he needs entertainment at home. Plus there's always tv. He can watch Ninja Warrior or something hehe. But seriously, I don't think I want to be pregnant ever again after this. It's just too much discomfort. More than my fragile little body can deal with at times. I can't hang with the difficulties breathing, walking, and cramps all the time and heartburn. No more kids after this one.


So remember how I said Lulu had diarrhea in Petco? Well, about an hour ago I was on the computer and she was by my legs and I hear something that sounds like SQUISH!!! I then see her run away from me and cower on the couch. I was like "what the hell?" Normally she acts like that when she knows she did something wrong and is in trouble. Like when she goes in the bathroom trash or tears the house apart. I figure maybe she did something she shouldn't have done and I look down and see a tiny diarrhea spot by the chair. I go over to her and pet her to comfort her because obviously this isn't a case of her being a little asshole, she's not feeling good. I take her outside to see if she wants to go again and she squats and looks like she may have made more boom or was trying to anyway. Then she runs back to the door and she has her tail between her legs and looks really uncomfortable. I attribute this to a tummy ache and know she'd love some Tums. I go into the kitchen where I left them and get one for her. I give it to her and she spits it out. She is so sick she doesn't even want Tums! She then keeps looking at her butt so I look into this. Apparently her butt is slightly bloody. I attribute this to the fact she ate a rib earlier today and may have swallowed part of a bone. I know, I'm a bad pug mommy. I'm keeping an eye on her. So I clean her little bloody spot off and check up on it to see if there's any additional bleeding later on, like if it's an internal thing dripping out. But I have reason to believe it was a cut on her externally or semi externally, possibly like a hemeroid for dogs? Anyway, after I cleaned her butt off, I offered her the Tums again and she ate it. I then tried to get her to drink some water but she wasn't to hip on that. She did take a few laps, which beats none. I'm glad I didn't go shopping with Jesse because if I did, we would have come home to find her diarrhea and probably gave her a spanking for being a bad pug when in actuality she's just a little sick. So yeah, I've just been taking care of her tonight, letting her lay on the fluffy quilt by the heater and petting her to make her feel more comfortable. Poor baby pug. Hopefully she gets better tonight cos I don't know how much it will cost if she needs to see a vet or if we'll be able to afford to go to one for that matter.

Friday, February 8, 2008

FIDDY!!!! Could this be the end???

Of winter??? Today's high is supposed to reach 50º. Not 30º, not 40º. I was looking online and it looks like the weather for the rest of the month is going to be in the upper 40's and low 50's. Next month will be in the 50's. Is this the end of winter? Are we slowly creeping into the spring? Tell me so! I am so over it being winter! I want it to be summer again so we can go to the river! Jesse can't wait to take our son to the river and the pug dog too. It'll be great! I want to go to Tahoe too! Ohh summer, hurry up!!!

Thursday, February 7, 2008

More on discomfort

Being broke sucks royally sometimes. Today my supervisor had a neck pain and went out for a massage. This irks me royally. I have been in pain on and off for the last few months. The reoccurance of the pain has become worse. Now Tylenol, who was my best friend in my first trimester of discomforts, no longer wants anything to do with me. Instead, if I hurt and consult him for comfort, he shuns me and does nothing. So obviously this talk of a massage is making me jealous as all hell. I want someone to professionally rub my aching body for an hour and a half while I lay in a peaceful environment half falling asleep. Only difference, I'm broke, she's not. I found this really cool place that does massages and Reiki, and they even have a special pregnancy massage. Downside is they're ass expensive. I'd totally kill for that pregnancy massage and a Reiki session though. i've never had Reiki (or a professional massage for that matter) but I know people who have and they say it is all sorts of amazing for relaxation for those in ultimate discomfort. People who have had serious surgery said it made them relax and helped them recover quicker. I can't help but imagine for trial and curiosity's sake what a Reiki session is like, but if it helps one relax as much as I've heard it does, my restless sore unable to sleep pregnant body needs one, STAT! It just sucks knowing that this cool stuff exists in the world and could potentially take away the pain and discomfort I'm going through, and knowing damned well I'm not in a financial situation to do anything about it. Shit, i'm still trying to budget if I can afford to get a nursing bra to support my growing aching boobs! This sucks. I'm just going to keep drinking more water and hope it does something for the pain... and think about pork chops. Mmm pork chops...

I couldn't sleep last night because of this!?

When I started going to my psychiatrist back home about two years ago, he told me one of my biggest problems is that I tend to hold onto things and that in doing so it makes it hard for me to get on with my life. Well, ok, one of those moments. Perhaps I'll try to get rid of something, so to speak, by putting it in writing and getting it out of my head for good and onto the computer screen where it will eventually one day become a virtual memory in cyberspace.

Everyone has issues. I think it's female nature to be self conscious. Of course it doesn't help when you have a male, notably an older one, constantly putting you down making you feel less worthy. I'm a smart gal. Relatively book smart, more so in the sense I know oddball facts about things than I do quotable quotes or of literature (ok, I know some lit, but I'm not all into it like others) and I can't do higher math to save my life, but I know how to take all I've learned throughout my life from school and experiences to apply it towards being a more successful person. And personally, I think I did a pretty damned good job of it! However, I spent nearly 5 years with someone who was much older than me and a lot stupider book wise. Skated by in school barely graduating, but did graduate. Never went to college and for lack of a better term, lucked out into a good job. While both our jobs required a certain degree of skill, his he picked up over time, mine I went to school for. And having gone to school, it showed in my paycheck.

So yea, needless to speak after some 5 odd years, I actually started to believe I wasn't that good. Fortunately I had my knight in a granny green 1970 Mercury Monterrey rescue me from all of this, but Lord knows what would have become of me if he didn't.

Anyway, back on this whole mental scarring. The guy was a sicko. Not only in a perverted sense but literally, when I would tell my psychiatrist about him, he would say things like that he sounded like he had serious psychological issues and was a 36 year old man with the mentality of a 15 year old boy. Like he never grew up and was nothing more than a grown up child. Makes sense.

While many times people I know have discredited me for saying I have this inability to judge what is appropriate and what isn't, often times, I say things intentionally, for the purpose of messing with them. Because of this, I also know when something is totally out of line and when to not say something. He does not.

Perfect examples of this: while being a girl insecure of my body, he suggests that I would like to have a threesome. This comment appalls me. It makes me feel even more insecure. That I am not good enough to please him and that the only way I can truly do so is to fulfill his man fantasy of being with multiple women. I express my disgust and he then tries to pass it off as it was somehow my idea and tries to twist the situation to make me feel guilty. Needless to speak, I went home and was very pissed off.

Other times include his hypocrite mentality. We would be out grocery shopping and he would make some sort of off color comment about something all loud and boisterous. Then, the one time I make some sort of comment, whispering, mind you, in an area where there was hardly any people, he jumps down my throat telling me NOT to say anything like that again and how HE has clients that live out in that area and how HE can't risk losing his job because I say something inappropriate. My argument: who cares? It was me who made the comment, not him. It just made me feel like he was embarrassed of me, or that what I said was truly funny and he was jealous that he didn't think of it. I'm guessing more so the latter, but at that time, it felt more like embarrassment.

But on the 36 year old kid thing. The guy lived in a room he rented from a drunk lady. His room looked not like that of a 36 year old bachelor, but like a 16 year old boy. He had posters of naked girls and girls in bikinis taped to the walls. He had toys in boxes hanging from the walls. on one side of the room was a bed, unfixed, with clothes thrown in piles on the floor, and across from it was a tv that was just as large as the bed. There were piles and piles of trash everywhere. There was a wall of milk crates stuffed with records and dvds, half of which dvds were horror and action flicks, the other half all porn. There was a gig case with a computer sitting on top of it and a broken bar stool for his computer chair, not even a proper set up for a computer to be on.

And on this computer! Every week there was a new desktop picture of some sort of porn chick sprawled out naked, or multiple naked girls. Never anything normal like a nice scenic background, or a nice pattern, or a picture of something guy-ish like guns or cars or sports. Just always the naked girls. And he was always getting viruses and complaining about his computer being slow because of all the porn he was constantly downloading.

He was obsessed with Howard Stern. He had multiple dvds of his show and paid for Sirius so he could hear him uncensored. It was always the same crap. Some girls would come on and be topless in thongs and make out with their mom or something for a boob job. Pathetic. During his porn chat multitasking, he would sometimes have the Howard Stern show dvds playing on the tv or on his little Sirius hook up, or he'd listen to his records on full blast with those bagel sized head phones on. It didn't surprise me with how deaf he was with how loud he listened to his music. I mean, I could hear it from the headphones down the hall with his door shut. Those things were connected directly to his head.

He just lacked a mature adult attitude towards everything in life. Sure, he went to work, paid his bills, but if you knew him outside of work, he was some perverted little juvenile with no ambition to ever grow up. He was not capable of having an adult relationship. He thought all he had to do was buy stuff and that would be enough to fulfill his part of the relationship. I'll admit, when you are young and used to your parents always being the ones to do things for you, a transition into something like this is a very comfortable transition. But as you get older and require more in life and more in a relationship, buying you off becomes old fast. It makes you feel cheap and meaningless and objectified. You start to analyze the things you are being bought off with. Are you being taken to nice restaurants? Are you getting flowers, candies, jewelery? Are you getting things other women would deem appropriate or things you're actually interested in? No. You are getting things he is interested in. Things he wants you to have. Things you have no interest in what so ever but that he feels play into his sick fantasies. He would spend hundreds of dollars a month on trashy lingerie. I wouldn't care so much if he got something like once in a while that was tasteful, but I'm talking things like lace body stockings, school girl costumes, weird crap that looked like stuff you'd see in pornos. His inability to separate fantasy from reality was prevelant. For Christmas one year, he had me buy him a $500 record. He bought me $100 worth of dental floss thongs. I was insulted.

I hadn't dated anyone before him. I thought he was what all guys were like because he assured me that all men have the same mind frames. I was young, but I wasn't stupid. I started to really pay attention to things. I looked at my friends' relationships and how their boyfriends were. Why was it I was ashamed to bring him anywhere. Why was it when I met Jesse years before we even dated I couldn't stop thinking about him and spent so much time convincing myself to stop thinking about him, that it wasn't right to do so because I was in a relationship and I was some how supposed to be with dipshit and that's the way it had to be and to stop thinking about Jesse. I always felt guilty whenever I went somewhere Jesse was at and would wind up talking to him as if I was not supposed to do so. Deep down, I was very unhappy with my relationship and really wished I could be with Jesse, but because of all the work dipshit did on me, I though there's no way a guy like Jesse would ever like me because I had nothing to offer him. Sure, we could talk about a lot of stuff easily but that was all I could offer and for that I would never be anything more than a friend. Eventually towards the break up with dipshit, I had been spending so much time with Jesse. I had enjoyed every minute of it and he had showed me that not all men are like dipshit. That dipshit was in a class of his own, that class being the one of the male pig stereotype. The high school boy who never grew up and never would. The guy who is completely unable to have a healthy relationship with any woman his age, so he needs a young naieve girl, and when that girl grows to realize what he's about, will leave him just as any woman his age would. It's men like him that keep porn stars, hookers and strippers in business. While there are a lot of men in the world like him, there are even more who aren't. He was nothing more than a sex obsessed pig. And he will die just the same.

In the meantime, as stated, my knight in granny green 1970 Mercury Monterrey rescued me. And the first time we kissed, it was a memory I will always cherish in my heart. When we first had sex, it didn't feel shameful or degrading, but was amazing and wonderful and everything words can't even describe wrapped up. I wish I could have laid there in bed with him till the sun came up afterwards, instead of having to send him home. I don't know how that made him feel but part of me always thinks maybe it made him feel kind of bad. Meanwhile, another part of me felt so satisfied to finally be able to have been with the one man I ever met, whom I truly connected with and couldn't stop thinking about for two years, even though we maybe had only seen each other a small handful of times over the course of those two years.

Alas now, I have the joys of being able to spend the rest of my life with Jesse and have his children. We will have a normal life together as husband and wife, mother and father, and loving pug owners. Even though I was scarred from the past with dipshit, my wounds have been healed by the loving touch of my husband, my darling Jesse. Everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes you learn from them, sometimes you don't. I learned and for that I was rewarded greatly. Thinking about Jesse makes me smile. I love taking him places with me and introducing him proudly to everyone I know as my husband. I feel comfortable with him in every essence, whether it be the two of us having sex, farting in front of one another, sitting down on the couch, or peeing while he's brushing his teeth. He's a good man. I can't praise him enough. I'm glad things happened the way they did.

February: Worst month of the year

February is like the kid who comes in last at the Special Olympics. It's the worst month out of the year. Personally, I hate being born in February. The only good thing that comes of it is that it makes me an Aquarius, which I feel is personally one of the best astrological signs if you had to be one. Sure, it's a lame water bearer, but everything they stand for is exactly me in a nutshell minus the compassionate crap.

But yea, February. I remember it was cool as a kid. We'd get Lincoln and Washington's birthdays off. Then they lumped them together into one holiday, President's Day. Which ironically used to fall on or around my birthday so I would get my birthday off. Then, I remember before that for Valentine's day, when you're in elementary school, you do all sorts of fun stuff. You make decorations and decorate the class. You do little crafts. Then on Valentine's Day, you bring in your valentines and of course you have to get one for every kid in class. Sometimes you get those candy heart things and put them inside. If your mom was cool like mine, you'd bring in cup cakes for the class. There's something I have mixed feelings about: making cupcakes for my son. Ah, the joy of whipping up 30+ frosted decorated treats in one night and making dinner. None the less, I still see myself doing this in 6 years from now. Part of me looks forward to it, another part loathes the idea of the mess. But yes, when you're a child, February is alright.

But then you get older. And much like many joys of childhood, everything changes and sucks. You don't get President's day off, so my birthday is no longer a recognized holiday. Instead I have school that day or work. Then you don't have the valentine's parties passing out cards and crap. In jr. high they sent out candy grams. For a quarter you could buy a piece of paper, write some crap on it and send it to your friend. All you had to do was put their homeroom number on it and they'd get it. Suddenly things become more personal. So on Valentine's day you either got a candy gram from your friends or a guy or girl who liked you, or you got nothing. I got nothing. In high school they didn't do that. Basically people came in and bought their boyfriends or girlfriends flowers or stuffed crap and a balloon and you could always tell who had a boyfriend or girlfriend then. I got nothing. Of course once I was out of school I no longer had to be reminded of the fact people that weren't me were being loved on the day before my birthday, which I don't get off anymore, and because of the fact people's libidos are more important, Valentine's day always over shadows my birthday. Always.

The one year I finally do have a boyfriend and expect that we'll do something for Valentine's day, we don't. I ask him what we're doing before then and he says we'll play it by ear etc. I remind him where he lives there aren't many options and if he does plan on taking me anywhere he better make reservations. I get over to his house, dressed up, expecting to go out and I see him sitting on his computer in his pajamas. What... the.... fuck!? Well he screwed up Valentine's Day, at least he can't screw up my birthday. WRONG! I don't even get anything then. Not a present. Not a card. Not even a happy birthday! How much of a bigger ass could you be!?

Well thank God I have my friends. Of course I always have to schedule my birthday plans around their valentines day plans. So that means either I celebrate my birthday a week early or a week late, depending on who is dating that year and who isn't. I don't want to sound like an asshole or anything, but you know, whenever they have birthdays, I always go out of my way to get things for them. Even if it's something home made cos I'm broke or a card, I still go out of my way. For my birthday, I don't get that same treatment. Instead I hear the laments of how they're so broke and wish they could have got me something, but they just bought new jeans or a new outfit last week, or spend $40 in drinks if we go to a club or restaurant to celebrate. After all, I am lucky they even came out to my birthday. Seriously, when I am broke for your birthday, I don't go ordering $40 in drinks or brag about new clothes in front of you. No, instead, I get you a card and some sort of little gift and order $20 in food and drinks, or if I know I won't have money buy your gift a few weeks in advanced when I do have money. I just find things like that borderline tasteless. I mean, I don't expect you to buy me something, but if you claim to be broke, you better be broke. Otherwise it just makes me feel like shit like I'm not good enough for you to invest in a measly $0.99 card or even to make one by hand. None the less, I've learned from these situations and don't invest money in certain individuals for their birthdays anymore. They get a card and my presence and if they're lucky, I'll buy them a drink just because deep down in my heart, I am of a giving nature and like doing things for others and I feel bad if I don't.

So I really hate Valentines day and my birthday a lot as an adult. Last year sucked because everyone went to the restaurant all ass late and we were rushed out and no one wanted to go to the club afterwards. So I went home having had like two watermelon martini's, some garlic chicken, and called it a night at 10:30. Jesse, who was broke, and not broke like my friends who have no money to get me anything but have enough to spend $100 or so on themselves in the same week, at least made an effort. He called me. I know he felt bad that he couldn't do anything for me. He even said so. I told him I didn't care cos I know what it's like to go to school and have all your money go to that. Plus he didn't even have money to get supplies for his projects, that's how broke he was.

This year sucks. I know Jesse wants to do something for me but we aren't in a position financially to do so. We need to save up for moving and the baby. Due to unplanned circumstances, things are even more tight financially. I'm just cranky and somewhat depressed. Weird baby hormones don't help any...