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1.22.2009

It's cute how you think I'm listening.

It's late, and once again I'm working into the wee hours. I can't think for the life of me what to blog about.

Not true. I have several topics, but all of which require extensive brain usage, none of which I currently have. I could list them for you, but that would be boring. And really it would only serve as a reminder for me to try and write about tomorrow.

Wellll, since you talked me into it...

1. People who talk to me like they are my boss, but are most definitely not.
2. Fun with Sprint
3. SPAZMATICS TOMORROW NIGHT (wow, that one took a lot of energy. you didn't catch that from the all caps?)
4. The poo contest the cat and the kid are having (how would you measure that? an odormometer? is that a word? its at least close to a word...right?)
5. That feeling when I feel like the creepy crawlies on my neck are trying to rip my spine through my pores.

Ok, very sleepy now. Eyes closing, fingers fumbling on the keyboard, and I can actually hear myself snoring..........zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

1.21.2009

I like you uglies, but don't talk to me.

It's late.  And I'm exhausted.  Watching two episodes of American Idol in a row will do that to you.  Especially when your trachea (pronounced Tray She Ah) gets irricatated by your rectums.  And no, I haven't lost it.  Those were actual words used by a contestant on yesterday's San Francisco AI, which I just watched tonight.  And no, I'm not providing a link.  I can't find it.  But it was hilarious.


I can't decide if I want to take a shower tonight or in the morning.  Oh, the pressure of it all.

Do you ever feel like the dirty dishes breed?  I mean, I did dishes today around 3:30pm, and now I've got a sink full of dirty ones.  What the hell.

I think I'm gonna take that shower.  I'm cold, and it'll help warm me up before I jump into bed.  Or not, I dunno.  Did I mention I'm exhausted?

This HAS to be the dumbest post EVER.

1.20.2009

I've been naughty. So what?

Ok. So I just realized that the inauguration this morning was at 11 am. Oh no, I watched it, I'm not having this realization because I missed it. I'm having the realization that it was at 11 am. Which is what time the Young and the Restless comes on. And I'm betting that CBS covered it, because why wouldn't they be like the rest of the sheep in this country who was glued into the coverage (and yes, I totally was too. But only because I thought my shows would be safely recording at home on the DVR. Don't ask me to explain my logic to you. It will only leave both of us confused, me angry, and you with a bruise on your head from where the stapler I threw hit it). Why wouldn't they dare to be different, to REALIZE CHANGE? Ugh. Now I have to wait until tomorrow to find out what happens to Amber and Katherine and all my other friends.

I know. I'm sad.

YES I watched the inauguration today. I kind of led a revolt at work in order to watch it. Let me es'plain.... no, there is too much, let me sum up. I got to work this morning, and tuned the ole interweb to msnbc to watch the live coverage (and before you make some sort of conservative watching liberal media comment, let me just tell you I TRIED watching it on fox.com, but the feed wouldn't come through because our IT guy sucks). And me and msnbc were trucking along just fine. Until others realized what I was listening/watching, and then THEY wanted to listen/watch. Well, with all the peeps trying to watch and the WORLDS CRAPPIEST INTERNET BECAUSE OF THE WORLDS CRAPPIEST IT GUY (actually, it's not his fault, but he's throwing a temper tantrum at me right now, so I'm throwing one right back. hehe, rookie), every one's feed kept locking up. So I made the receptionist announce that if they wanted to watch it, NOT to watch it on their computers, but to go to this other guys desk who has a big ole monitor, and the room for all six of us to cram in to watch it (and yes, there are only about six of us in the office this week. which means pants are optional. there's no memo or anything, but it's totally implied). What was I talking about? Oh, right. Pants. No. Inauguration. Yeah, that's it. So we were watching it in there, but then it started sucking again, so we crammed into another office to watch it on a tiny little black and white. And it was anti-climatic. I enjoyed the performance of Yo-Yo Ma and Co. more so than the speech. I'm not saying it was bad or anything, I'm just waiting for more than lip service, you know?

Anyway, before the bleeding heart liberals start to get all crazy on me (and oh, one kinda did today during the swearing in...she totally got all Manson over the fact that the word execute was used in the oath, like it's never happened before. seriously) let's change the subject. Like to the fact that there are only 10 minutes left in the work day.

Oh! I almost forgot! So remember LAST week when ass hole rat bastard the ex was all, oh, I haven't seen The Smoodge in forever so I'm going to steal her and bring her back when I damn well feel like it (I'm paraphrasing here)? Remember? Well TODAY, he has visitation, all day, until 5pm, and he sends me a text message at 2pm, A TEXT MESSAGE, telling me that he has dropped her off at the daycare. W. T. F. Seriously?

Okay, that's a lot of topics, and only 4 minutes left, so I have done my bloggingly duties for the day, and am now gonna pack up and leave and call my sister to find out why her due date has been bumped up by a week and she didn't tell me and I found out because my other sister (the one who can't keep secrets) posted it on Facebook. FACEBOOK knew before I did. That's fucked up.

1.19.2009

Your ugliness cheers me up.

The week before I took off from Christmas (I remember specifically, it was that Monday), I went to lunch with a co-worker.  We went to this place that's fairly new, and when we got there, questioned whether or not it was open.  I noticed a waiter type standing by the bar, peeked in, and asked if the joint was available.  He indicated it was, and said we could sit wherever.  Duh.  The place was empty.  I saw tumbleweeds.  So we picked out a table, and Mr. Waiter came over to introduce himself and get our drink orders.  He was good looking, and said his name was Brent.  I work with a Brent, and being the friendly type I am, I said as such, and instigated a conversation.  There was brief flirting.  Lunch moved forward, we ordered, whatever.  I can't remember a lot of the specific details because I have slept since then, but at some point he came and sat down next to us and chatted for a bit.  As we got our receipts back, I made some joke about leaving my number on the back for him.  My coworker basically dared me (she had a good point.  just do it, and if he doesn't call, I don't ever have to go back there, and if he does, score), so I left a little note with the digits.  We giggled our way out of there and booked it back to work.


Day continues, boring blah, and I pick up The Smoodge and head home.  Around 6 that evening, the phone rings, and it's not a number I recognize.  It's Brent.  I'm freaking shocked.  Normally dudes do that whole wait a couple of days before calling.  Well, I guess it's not fair to say dudes, because girls do it too, but you get what I mean.  Anyway, we chat for a bit, the normally boring getting to know you small talk blah, and he invites me out for that Thursday.  I told him I'd have to check my schedule and I'd get back with him the next day.

Let me break into this story now and say that I never told him about The Smoodge.  He doesn't know I have a kid, and I didn't feel that first couple minutes chatting was the time to do it.  I figured it would behoove me to get to know him a bit first.  See if he's even worth mentioning I have a child to.

He's not.  But we'll get there in a minute.

So a friend of a friend, which I guess is a friend of mine too, except I'm not really familiar with the whole chain of friendship thing, which is also why I suck at doing the send this to seven people email thingies, but anyway, this girl I know volunteered to baby sit The Smoodge for me as a birthday present (since my birthday was the next day).  So I got all dolled up, which for me is basically putting on deodorant (what do you expect?  I have a freaking TWO YEAR OLD), and headed out to meet up with Brent.

We met up at a bar.  Not even a nice bar.  A dive.  A dive I had never been to, but he apparently had his name on a plaque on the wall for who could accumulate the most DWI's on the way out of there.  I get there, he's already gotten started on the liquor.  I gave him a pass on that since we were meeting up late anyway.  So we go in, we sit down, start with the formalities, and some random dude walks up and apparently hasn't seen Brent in 8 or something stupid years and while I'm sitting there with my thumb in my ass thinking, I left The Smoodge at home for THIS?  During the time I'm having an internal debate about whether or not I should take a shot, walk out, and go catch a flick, my DATE apparently decided that our time would be best spent hanging out with this old friend of his.  Playing darts.  Awesome.

I actually had a decent time playing darts.  I don't normally like games I haven't played before because I suck, and I don't like sucking, especially not in front of someone who I'm still in the 'need to impress' stage (although, for a date, he was getting me out of that stage in record times), but apparently I was having beginner's luck because I was rocking the dart board.  Plus, the more you drink, the easier it becomes to hang out with...well...anyone.  Unless you're a mean drunk.  In which case, I know this guy you can go get drunk with...

I should break in right here and also say that not once, even a little bit, during any part of the flirting at the restaurant or the time at the bar did I ever have the thought that this guy was going to be anything more than a friend.  I have a two year old.  I don't need more children.  And let's face it, that's all men are.

I told Brent as much.  He asked me at some point what I was looking for.  And I was perfectly straight with him.  I told him I'm looking for someone to hang out with.  And I absolutely was NOT looking for a relationship.  Under no circumstances.  Not even a little.  Nuh-uh.  No.  Way.  And he seemed cool with it.  So we had fun playing darts, he asked when we could hang out again, I told him I was going out of town for the next two weeks, but we'd figure something out once I got back into town.  He seemed cool with it, and I went home.

He called every.  Single.  Day.  while I was in Missouri.  Which was....mmmm...what's the word?  Annoying at best?  I talked to him occasionally, but I was busy.  I mean, come on!  I'm with family I haven't seen in ages, it's the freaking holidays, and I've only DATED YOU ONCE.  ON A FAKE DATE.  Seriously?  Sometimes I would answer, sometimes I wouldn't.  Didn't matter.  Every.  Single.  Day.

So now I'm back.  And he knows I'm back.  And I keep making excuses as to why I can't just drop everything and hang out with him.  He still doesn't know I have a kid.  He thinks I've been out of town off and on for business.  Which is funny because I don't travel for business.  Ok, maybe once, but I needed the money, and hell, I'll try anything once.

I talked to him a few nights ago, and he was all kinds of pissy with me.  I was half tempted to ask him if he was pre or post menstrual, but decided against it.  Besides, the pissier he got, the more fun I had with the conversation.  He asked me if I wanted to go to a movie with him this last weekend, and then started in on some diatribe about chick flicks and how there are some out there he'd totally go see with me, and I was like, um.  Have you met me?  I don't do chick flicks, but instead I gave him some bull-oney excuse about Houston, and shows, and whatever, and he asked me if my phone worked where I was going.  I said, oh yeah.  So HE says, get this...lol...SO YOU CAN CALL THEN.  All pissy like he had the right!!!  I KNOW!

So that whole time to start dating post I had a few weeks ago?  Yeah.  That post can suck it.    

1.18.2009

You're icky and that's sad.

I don't normally do any sort of political posting.  I simply don't have time to brush up on stuff like I used to pre-toddler.  Point is, if you read past this paragraph, and you get pissed off, don't say you weren't warned. 

This coming Tuesday is going to be a big day in the history of this great country.  And regardless of how you voted, you can't help but admit that it's exciting times.  For once, in our life times, we get to be a part of a huge moment that didn't involve the death of millions of people.  Or of Brad and Angelina adopting another shade of kid.

That being said, Barack Obama is just a man.  Regardless of the color of his skin, he is not going to cure the economy, he is not going to stop the fighting, he is not going to banish unemployment, and he is not going to house the homeless.  Sure, he may take steps towards that, but realistically, until he is in office for more than just one term, those steps won't even begin to matter.  The economy ebbs and flows, the wars will continue, the unemployment will fluctuate, as will the homeless numbers.

I mention all of this because of the outpouring of...well, complete and utter bullshit his presidency is starting off with.  I'm sorry, but travelling the same path Abraham Lincoln took the capitol via train for four days?  Seriously?  Not to mention the number of inaugural things and parties and blah blah blah that will go on on the 20th.  Exactly how much money is being dumped into this?  And out of curiosity, how is it AWFUL for a financial institution to take it's leaders on a retreat costing several hundreds of thousands of dollars, but perfectly acceptable for the same man who abhorred that specific kind of action to spend hundreds of MILLIONS of dollars on winning of a popularity contest?  Has it crossed the mind of the man who is going to take the reigns of the United States of America that his kick-off festivities are currently projected at running TWICE that of the bail-out?  

Look, I won't deny it.  I voted for McCain.  And sure, that is probably going to make me just a tad more cynical of the actions our new president takes once in office (and apparently in the days before).  That being said, despite the fact that I didn't vote for him, I hope he succeeds as president.  Regardless of who is driving, I'm still in the car, and I'm not going to wish for his failure simply because I didn't vote for him.  

But so far?  So far it's not looking good. 

1.17.2009

Shave and a Haircut...Twoooooo Biiiiiiiits

Except no shave.


I took The Smoodge to Sharkey's today for a hair cut.  She's been sticking her hair in her mouth and chewing on it, then ripping it out of her mouth while still clamped between her teeth.  Which makes this hair ripping sound that is not too far from nails on a chalkboard.  Which in turn makes me want to jab a paperclip through my retina.  It also means that at the end of the day the sides of her hair resemble the texture of the hair in this picture.  

I'm entirely too scared to cut her hair myself.  When I was little, my mom took me to a place to get my hair cut, and instead they cut into the bottom of my right ear lobe.  I still have the scar.  And am still severely traumatized.  So when I think about cutting The Smoodge's hair, I have all these horrible visions of her coughing and jamming the sharp end of the scissors up her nose, or through her temple.  Try explaining THAT one to CPS.  I have cut her bangs a couple of times, but that's usually something I have to drink talk myself into.

So to save The Smoodge from an impaled noggin and myself from having to buy more booze, I took her to Sharkey's.  It's this cute little place that specializes in kids haircuts.  The 'chair' that The Smoodge got to sit in was a Barbie Jeep (which, on a side note, I know now not to buy her, because her short little feet don't reach the pedals), and watch Elmo (Mell-Mo!) while some other woman got to worry about stabbing the baby.  I took pictures, she got her haircut, and nobody had to explain anything to the authorities.  And now, for your viewing pleasure, and without further ado, except for this sentence, and possibly...oh never mind, here's the pics:

Pulling the gum out of her mouth.  Just after this, she handed it to me.  Babies are gross.


The expression on her face is freaking priceless.  Except it's not what it looks like.  She's trying to look around the stylists hands to watch Elmo (Mell-Mo!).  But still.  Funny.

See that hair dryer?  I WANT THAT.

Ta-Da!

Pretty hair, Mommy?

1.14.2009

Good or Bad?

I'm not sure which of those categories this day falls into.  Or this week really.  It's just been one of those...?


Monday was the day the (son of a bitch) ex took The Smoodge and didn't bring her back like he was supposed to.  That was bad.  I filed a report with SAPD.  That was eh.  I was told by SAPD to have New Braunfels PD escort me to his residence to pick her up.  That was hopeful.  NBPD says they don't do that...for anyone.  Seriously, like they needed to clarify.  Which tells me that they DO do it, just not when it involves a member of their own.  That was bad.  Then the officer, Frank Moreno (oh yeah, I'm gonna call you out), tells me that while NBPD doesn't do that (for anyone), the Constable does, and would I mind waiting a few minutes for one to call me?  That was promising.  The constable calls, and they don't do that without a judges order.  Which is confusing, because I thought that's what the divorce decree was.  Apparently not.  Even though it's signed by a judge.  So that decree I've been walking on pins and needles to abide by?  Not enforceable.  At least according to the SAPD, the NBPD, and the CCC.  Highlight?  The ex's job has it on record that he doesn't follow court orders.

Tuesday was fairly uninteresting, with a three hour car ride to Houston with the boss.  He's a funny dude, so it wasn't too bad.  The meeting went okay, actually went really well for us, and then lunch at the Katy Mills mall before hitting the 3 hour drive back home.  Very neutral.

Today?  Wellll....  Today I went and checked out a new daycare that I would love to get The Smoodge into.  They seemed awesome.  Except.  They want just shy of 10 billion dollars to get her enrolled.  They also want all of the daycare costs for the month up front, whereas now I pay weekly.  That's sort of a problem.  I am hoping they will work with me on it, but won't know for sure until I call and talk to them tomorrow.  *fingers crossed!!!  Once back at work, I've finally been able to pin down what my title there should be.  Crutch.  At some point during the day, every single department came to me at some point for help.  For things I don't do.  Which means for the things I do do (hehe, do do), they don't get done.  Or I'm left doing them into the wee hours of the night.  Which I don't have the energy to do while the Mountain Cedar is attempting to kill me.  Once that was over, I went to go pick up The Smoodge at the daycare, am backing out of my parking space, and some woman tries to jam herself into the empty space next to me while I'm backing out.  Nice.  Now the front driver side of my car is all scratched to crap.  I seriously don't see how that could have been my fault.  She KNEW I was leaving.  Ugh.  But I'll have to wait for the adjuster and liability hoo-ha to come out and assess fault.  I'm hoping it's hers.  *fingers crossed!!!

Then there's the phone call from the current stalker.  I'm gonna have to come back to that later, because I just don't know where I'm going to pull the energy from to rant about THAT GUY.  I'm just too exhausted from the lack of definition.  Or something.

*side bar- in rereading this post, I realize I've used the phrase 'do do' twice.  Not sure what that means, but now I have go to the bathroom.  Coincidence?  Or more like my intestines are sending me subliminal messages?

1.13.2009

Houston

I'm tired.  I was going to be in bed an hour ago, but I have this awesome allergy trick where I feel like I'm trying to swallow a rock.  Not that I've ever tried to swallow a rock, but if I did, I can imagine this is what it would feel like.  Anyone caring to try that rock swallowing thing, let me know, we'll compare notes.  Anyway, the rock swallowing thing is keeping me from sleeping.


I went to Houston today.  That's, like, 3 hours away.  Drove there, went to a meeting, had lunch, drove back.  At least it was with a good looking Brit.  Who is funny.  So that helps.

The end.

1.12.2009

You can talk to me, but where will we put the barf?

Second time using my little calendar for a title, and I have to say this one is my favorite thus far :)

Just found out that I'm going to Houston tomorrow. Whoo. Freakin'. Hoo. Leaving SA at 8:15am, to drive to an 11am meeting with the stinkin' union, then turn back around and be home by 5pm. How much fun is THAT going to be? Seriously. At least I'm not doing it alone, I'm actually riding down there with the VP of the company, and he's a pretty entertaining dude. And he's British, so even just talking to him is interesting. Yeah. That won't get old at all after 6 hours in a car. Nope. Not even a little bit.

The ex took The Smoodge this morning and is insisting he's keeping her tonight. He knows about her therapy. I'm really not sure what I'll do if he doesn't bring her back. I have several options, the most fun being the fact that he's pissed me off and left me without any responsibilities. I'm thinking yard forking. Or maybe using that stuff that kills grass to spell dirty words on the lawn. Or maybe just a can of spraypaint'll do it. Ahhh, the possibilities are endless.....

Seriously though, chances are PRETTY good I'm just going to drink myself to sleep. What? I'm not doing the driving tomorrow. Don't judge me. Because lets face it. The system isn't set up to do jack shit when he fucks with my world. I pretty much get to bend over and take it. The only thing I can really do is set aside the correspondence in case we ever go back to court. Specifically to use it against him if he tries to get more visitation or keep me under a residency restriction longer. Until then? It's just me, a six pack, and my blanket. Good times.

1.11.2009

Options

Me: You wanna eat?

The Smoodge: No.

Me: You wanna go get me a diaper?
TS: No.

Me: Wanna go potty?
TS: No.

Me: Wanna go jump off a tall tower?
TS: Tower?

*sigh

Bored

Sunday afternoon, and I'm waiting for The Smoodge to wake up from her nap.  In the meantime, I've changed the look of my blog about six times.  Not sure how I feel about this one, but I guess I'll roll with it for a bit.  At least until I find something I like better.


Those stinkin' allergies are attacking me again.  I never used to have any issues with allergies.  I mean, randomly I'd have weird issues with things like grass.  Or stuffed animal hair.  I know, that one freaks me out too.  But other than that, all the cedar and pollen and blah blah blah never bothered me.  Until.  I had The Smoodge.  I am pretty sure it's really HER that I'm allergic too, and the other stuff is just what triggers the external reactions.  I mean, who WOULDN'T be allergic to this:


I'm pretty sure everyone is allergic to ninja babies.

1.10.2009

A Day in the Life of Someone Who Deals with a Moron Baby Daddy

Ok, I realize this may be cheating just a bit, because it's not a real blog entry, it's just cutting and pasting an email conversation between myself and my AWESOME (said with only a hint of sarcasm) ex-husband.  But.  It IS actually the kind of crap I deal with from him on a regular basis, and since I have to deal with it, I thought it only fair that you should share in the bull shit.

For the back story, The Smoodge and I went on a two week vacation over the holidays.  I let him know in accordance with the damn divorce decree, and he agreed.  We got back this last weekend, and he started this email conversation with me on Thursday.  He's in red (because that's what color evil is) and I'm in blue.  The ONLY thing I've changed is her name to The Smoodge (because that would be weird if that's how we referred to her in real life.  that's just for you crazies).

Mandy,
Since you were out of town during my weekend visitation with her, I will keep her overnight on Mon. Jan. 12th and will drop her off on Tue Jan. 13th.

James,
Unfortunately that is not going to be possible.  Perhaps if you had given more notice something could have been negotiated.
On October 26, 2008, I asked that you give at least a 15 day notice of when you wanted your overnight visit to be.  On October 28, 2008, you agreed to this request.  You were made aware of the dates she would be gone on October 26th, and had ample opportunity to schedule an alternate overnight, and you failed to do so. 
If you are voiding our agreement to give a 15 day notice, or to have your overnight with The Smoodge on your weekend with her, please state that as such.  If this is the route you would prefer to take, you will need to let me know what dates for an overnight you would like to have from now until November so that I can schedule it accordingly.  
Thank you.

Mandy,
Unfortunately for you, you don't get to make up the rules for my overnights with The Smoodge. There is not a notification process stated in the divorce decree. I suppose it would be inconsiderate to let you know a day before or the day of, but seeing how she's only 2 yrs of age and not in school or part of Girl Scouts or a professional gymnastics team there really isn't much to discuss and it's only Thursday.
I did email you in regards to overnights stating I would take her overnights on the weekends I'm to have her. It's not my problem that you decided to take her out of town during my overnight weekend this month (Jan.). I will exercise my overnight with her, it is my right as her father and I have not seen The Smoodge in over 3 wks.
You should be concerned about her having a good relationship with BOTH PARENTS and ensuring she spend time with her father as well, but as always you let your own issues get in the way of your parenting.
You don't get to make up rules when you feel like it, We know you have difficulties following court orders, but a no show on Monday is in violation of the court order and a report will be filed if you fail to let me see her.

James,
I am not attempting to 'make up the rules for your overnights with The Smoodge.'  I am simply abiding by the written agreement that you and I had in regards to when the overnights would occur.  You were notified, and did agree to, The Smoodge and I being out of town for the dates that we were.  You were aware that this included your weekend with her.  I am confused as to why you are implying it is my problem that you failed to make plans accordingly.
I do realize the importance of The Smoodge spending time with her father.  I have no problem with her spending time with you overnight on a weekend as we agreed to.  What I would ask is that you value and respect the schedule that The Smoodge has during the week days, and the importance, even at the age of two, of sticking to that schedule.
That being said, I believe you are off this weekend.  If you would like to have your overnight with her on Saturday night, perhaps beginning on Saturday at noon and continuing for a 24 hour period, that would be appropriate, and I am more than willing to agree to that.
Thank you.

I will pick her up on Monday.

This has got to be one of the most moronic things he could ever put into print.  He just put into writing that he doesn't give a damn what goes on in The Smoodge's life, and that spending time with him should only be done when convenient for him.  He's not interested in co-parenting, or the best interest of his daughter.  And if you know me at all, the responses I had were NOT my first draft.  Those were rewritten numerous time to cut out the 'rat bastard son of a bitch's' and 'whore mongering douche bag's'.  Aren't you proud?  I think I should get a gold star.

I don't want to move away from San Antonio.  It's warm here.  Kansas City did not put it's best foot forward when we were there for the holidays.  It was cold.  Ridiculously cold.  Like, I'm surprised people are able to live there cold.  I would take a shower, and linger just a few more minutes under the warm water, all the while thinking to myself, this is the last time I'm ever going to be warm again.  Yes, the family is there, but there are up and downsides to that.  If they could all move here, that would be great.  Mostly it's the weather.  Oh, and the job.  I love my job.  It works for the life I am currently living, and is willing to work around my life if I went back to school.  I know that I could not find something up there with the pay and benefits as with what I have now.  But that chain of emails?  That would be crap I wouldn't have to deal with if I were to move.  And that crap sucks so much of my will to live that it's a definite POSITIVE for getting out of here.

Oh, and the scheduling issue that doesn't make it ideal for her to stay the night with him?  Not a big deal or anything.  Just her THERAPY. 

1.09.2009

This May Be Rhetorical But...


...should I be pissed about this?
Right leg.

Left leg.

Outside of left arm.

Inside of left arm.

Right arm.

Chin.

No, these are not crime scene photos.  This is what The Smoodge looks like after a week, yes folks, that's FIVE DAYS, at her current daycare.  Three of those injuries they had reported to me.  The other three, I found on my own once I got her home.  I know they are toddlers.  I know toddlers are little ass holes.  But this?  Seriously?

I think I'm done.  This has been going on for awhile now, with the biting and what not, and I just don't know what else to do.  So.  Anyone know of a good, decently priced daycare in San Antonio near the Quarry?

Not Listening

I got myself one of those Happy Bunny daily calendar thingies. You know, the ones where each day has it's own witty commentary and picture? It's hilarious. It will also be used to title my blogs. Be prepared for the title and the subject to have nothing to do with each other. Unless I don't have anything else to write about, in which case I will derive inspiration from its sarcastic powers.

It's unbelievably hard to get back into the groove of this. To the point where it's beginning to intimidate me. I think what also intimidates me is that I am aware of who some of my audience is (hi Mom!), and it restricts some of the things I want to write about. The whole point of this was to be able to vent, to get things out of my head so it didn't cause my brain to explode through my eyeballs and splatter all over the monitor. Because most of the time I'm not blogging on my own equipment, but on someone else's, and that would be rude. Not only am I not working, but I'm also making a mess. But I digress. I'm not sure if I'll just make some posts private, and take a cue from her, or if I'll just say, you know what, you don't like it, don't read it. Or maybe I'll just disappear for awhile to avoid hurting any one's feelings. Meh.

So it's the new year right? Whoo-freaking-hoo. But seriously, everyone is all, what's your resolution, and for some reason, I keep hearing revolution, and I can't understand what everyone is all up in arms about. Then I realize, no no, reSolution, and can come out from under my desk because there won't be any musket balls headed my direction. Or bayonets. You don't see those nearly enough anymore. I think it would encourage people to be nicer to each other if everyone had their own bayonet to attach to their cell phones, or pencils, or even, in the case of The Smoodge, their chapstick. Yeah, I'll take that Nobel now. You're welcome.

What were we talking about? Oh yeah, resolutions. I don't have any. Seriously. And that makes me sad. I've become so wrapped up in my job, and The Smoodge, and not killing people, that I haven't had the mental capacity to better myself. And no, I will not make a resolution that I won't kill anyone this year. I can, however, resolve not to tell you about it if I do. Compromise, bitches.

Mostly the reason why I don't have any resolutions though is because I don't want to fail at any of them. And I know I will. I've had far too much failure caused by others in the last two years that no way am I going to set MYSELF up for them. So I guess I figure if I don't plan anything, I can't fail anything. And that has to be the dumbest fucking way to live your life. Ever. Even dumber than that time when you thought you could pick your nose in your car and no one would see you. Well, I saw you. And am judging you for it.

So I've decided to make a list of things that I want to do, and not limit myself to having completed them within the next year, but at least made REAL progression towards them this year (I have to clarify REAL because otherwise I will totally come back and say that blogging about them counted and it doesn't. But I can rationalize like a mo-fo). So, in no particular order of importance, except they were just the ones that popped into my head first, I present to you........................

My List of Crap That I Will Make REAL Progression Towards In 2009
1. Graduate from college with a degree in music.
Facebook kind of kicked me on the ass on this one. Living ignorant of those around you really helps to shield you from what you want out of life. But then I got back in touch with so many old friends and realized they are living the life that I want. Tools.
2. Lose a lot of weight.
I'm not going to tell you how much, because it's none of your damn business, nosey. But I will tell you that what spurned this on the most is going to a concert, jumping around, and coming to the realization that not all of your body is going in the same direction at the same time. Yeah.
3. Take a trip to another continent.
I know that seems random and weird and whatever, but these are my resolutions, not yours, and if I wanted your opinion, I'd give it to ya.

That's all I have for now. Those are kind of the most important. That, and I'm out of here in like 10 minutes, and I gotta wrap this bad boy up, so yeeaaaahhhh.... I think those are good for now.