I have figured it out!
Verizon is employed by a bunch of ruthless crooks. There is simply no denying it anymore. It has been staring me in the face for months but I just refused to believe it but now I can't ignore it anymore. They are a bunch of filthy dirty crooks.
So I recently had to have my Droid Incredible replaced, right. I had to have this happen when I first got it from Randy early this year. They sent me one but it was so jacked up that it wouldn't go past the HTC screen. With a hard reboot, it made it as far as the red screen with the automated alien voice saying "Droid!" but then it would reboot again. So I had to send that one back. They then sent the Droid 1 that I had already traded up from and then had to resend out another incredible. This one worked and is the one that I have been using for these last few months.
Then they did away with the unlimited data plan for $30. They were losing mucho dinero on this one because people like me use their phones as the mini computers they are meant to be and eat up data like it's being served at the last supper. They now have one that comes close to what I have for $40. But there's a loophole. As long as you have a smartphone attached to this plan they cannot take it away from you.
So I had to call about my Droid incredible because the power port was loose and it was a crapshot as to whether it would fully charge or not each night (not that it stays charged for long, the battery itself is getting old and dumb) So they sent out a new one and last night as I sit here playing with it, it started to do random reboots. I called Verizon and they said it was one of my apps and it was best to factory reset it and start from scratch.
Now I just spent about two hours or more redoing the damn thing to the way I like my phone and they want me to factory reset it and start from scratch?? I don't think so. Dette is going to wait out the temper tantrum thank you very much.
Well this afternoon, Mr. Droid Incredible (And let's face it, anything that boasts that it's incredible and clearly is not, has to be male.) decided eff you, I am going to win this round and you will factory reset me regardless of what you want. I am Mr. Incredible, hear me whine. And it rebooted itself over and over and over for two damn hours before I even got pissed anough to take the battery out. When i put it back in to try and factory reset, the result was that it said it was doing it but then farted around and did it over and over and over for another hour. Finally though I won out and it factory reset. So here I sit trying to set it up, again.
But phooey on Verizon because until this one stays on for two consecutive days, I am not sending my old one back.
See the thing about the unlimited plan is like I said, they are loosing mucho dinero on it and they figure if they send you a crap phone, you're going to trust them and send back your old one right away and then find that you are stuck with the crapper. You will soon find that you have to send that one back as well or do one of two things. One being activate an old phone you have lying around that is probably not a smart phone thereby loosing your unlimited data plan, or two stick out like the stubborn cow I am and just not have a working phone for up to three days four if it's a holiday weekend, five if the holiday falls on Monday of Friday, but still have the smartphone attached to the plan.
I am a stubborn fucking cow. You should know this about me up front. Damn them I will go without a phone for two damn days.
Just don't expect me to be completely sane by the time the new one gets here. Expect me to be sitting in a corner rocking or running around shouting statuses in people's face's screaming can you like me?? Can you like my status??
But there you go. Verizon is staffed by sheisty people, plain and simple and I am just as stubborn as they are and refuse to quit. One will emerge victorious. It will most likely be them but dammit, I'm going to give them a good freaking fight!
By the way since the last factory reset, this phone has shut off once. I like that. It means I win this round.
Now to set up my Handcent, again I really should pay for the actual service so I can back it up and don't have to do it so much.
Le Sigh!
Laters!
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
Sunday, December 04, 2011
Second Thoughts...
I'm having second thoughts about going back on behavioral medications.
See, people that I've met in the past four to five years know me as I am now. I don't know what they are going to put me on but based on my past history with behavioral drugs, that will change. It's not a suspicion, that's a fact.
When Olivia was a few months old, I had a manic breakdown. I had three children in diapers and my husband was off to sea. My neighbor noticed that I hadn't come outside in a couple of days and very nicely came over to see if I was okay because as a fellow navy wife in the springtime it's a common thing to want to have your children out in the fresh air as much as possible and she hadn't seen me outside letting my kids run. It's a bit fuzzy and by fuzzy I mean I'm trying hard to reconcile what I DO remember with the description of how they found me.
See I remember Demetria just walking in the front door and picking up the kids and taking me to her house and from there blank until I woke up in the hospital. The description of how they found me through their eyes is a little bit different. Demetria said that she hadn't seen me outside so she came to knock on the door and when I didn't answer she tried the knob. She says she found me in the kitchen in the corner curled up screaming to God what had I done to deserve this life. She then claims that she and her sister took my kids and me to her house where she gave me a drink as it was the only way to calm me down. She says that she then she called the ombudsman of my ship who came over and made the decision to call the hospital who made the decision to keep me. All of this was done while I was knocked out from whatever drink she gave me.
Like I said. Fuzzy. And I'm not altogether sure which parts are true to word and which parts are true to word and which parts are exaggerated. I mean I can see that maybe I would have a breakdown like that in front of my kids but I generally have a fail safe switch that goes off in my head that keeps me from letting that final thread snap in front of them. But at the same time even I know that one can't control when that crucial thread just ignores your best efforts and snaps anyway.
Whatever. The point is that that episode landed me in the mental ward of a military hospital for a couple of days and on behavior modification drugs for some years afterwards.
The first one I was on was Depacote. Big and orange. That one was definitely not a good fit. I was holding Olivia one night and I stood at the top of the stairs and wondered what would happen if I just stepped off. While I was holding my infant daughter. I don't know what snapped me out of the thought but I remember having the thought. I told the doctor this thought and he agreed that I needed to try a different med.
The second one was a small white pill. That one spaced me into zombie territory. According to Randy, I sat in the car one long ride home from the North and I started counting. He says he asked me what I was counting and I replied cars. Not red ones. Not blue ones. Not caddies. Not Toyotas. Just cars. I don;t know who decided that wasn't a good med I just know I was taken off it.
Skip a few years and picture me trying very hard to fit in with the mainstream and feeling like the salmon in a river full of trout. Something made me want to buck the system and swim upsteam regardless of what I should have been doing. It didn't work. I cried most nights and worked so hard at keeping my mouth shut during the day that I gave myself migraines.
Then I started drinking. A lot.
A lot of fights later and a suicide attempt, I found that you can only fool people for so long before the truth comes out.
Once again, navy doctors put me on a med. Zoloft to be exact. This one wasn't so bad, to tell the truth. I was kinda level on it.
But in true Claudette style, with the final crumble of my marriage, I decided, without the husband who in my mind equaled the stress, I didn't need the stress meds.
To be completely honest, I don't think I've done bad all these five years without the medication but like I said. You can on'y fool the crowd for so long and a big breakdown is coming. I know it. I feel it like a storm coming up.
So even though I'm having second and third thoughts about going back on behavioral medications, I'm going to do it if that's what they want me to do.
Hmmm...
Make that second, third fourth, and fifth thoughts...
See, people that I've met in the past four to five years know me as I am now. I don't know what they are going to put me on but based on my past history with behavioral drugs, that will change. It's not a suspicion, that's a fact.
When Olivia was a few months old, I had a manic breakdown. I had three children in diapers and my husband was off to sea. My neighbor noticed that I hadn't come outside in a couple of days and very nicely came over to see if I was okay because as a fellow navy wife in the springtime it's a common thing to want to have your children out in the fresh air as much as possible and she hadn't seen me outside letting my kids run. It's a bit fuzzy and by fuzzy I mean I'm trying hard to reconcile what I DO remember with the description of how they found me.
See I remember Demetria just walking in the front door and picking up the kids and taking me to her house and from there blank until I woke up in the hospital. The description of how they found me through their eyes is a little bit different. Demetria said that she hadn't seen me outside so she came to knock on the door and when I didn't answer she tried the knob. She says she found me in the kitchen in the corner curled up screaming to God what had I done to deserve this life. She then claims that she and her sister took my kids and me to her house where she gave me a drink as it was the only way to calm me down. She says that she then she called the ombudsman of my ship who came over and made the decision to call the hospital who made the decision to keep me. All of this was done while I was knocked out from whatever drink she gave me.
Like I said. Fuzzy. And I'm not altogether sure which parts are true to word and which parts are true to word and which parts are exaggerated. I mean I can see that maybe I would have a breakdown like that in front of my kids but I generally have a fail safe switch that goes off in my head that keeps me from letting that final thread snap in front of them. But at the same time even I know that one can't control when that crucial thread just ignores your best efforts and snaps anyway.
Whatever. The point is that that episode landed me in the mental ward of a military hospital for a couple of days and on behavior modification drugs for some years afterwards.
The first one I was on was Depacote. Big and orange. That one was definitely not a good fit. I was holding Olivia one night and I stood at the top of the stairs and wondered what would happen if I just stepped off. While I was holding my infant daughter. I don't know what snapped me out of the thought but I remember having the thought. I told the doctor this thought and he agreed that I needed to try a different med.
The second one was a small white pill. That one spaced me into zombie territory. According to Randy, I sat in the car one long ride home from the North and I started counting. He says he asked me what I was counting and I replied cars. Not red ones. Not blue ones. Not caddies. Not Toyotas. Just cars. I don;t know who decided that wasn't a good med I just know I was taken off it.
Skip a few years and picture me trying very hard to fit in with the mainstream and feeling like the salmon in a river full of trout. Something made me want to buck the system and swim upsteam regardless of what I should have been doing. It didn't work. I cried most nights and worked so hard at keeping my mouth shut during the day that I gave myself migraines.
Then I started drinking. A lot.
A lot of fights later and a suicide attempt, I found that you can only fool people for so long before the truth comes out.
Once again, navy doctors put me on a med. Zoloft to be exact. This one wasn't so bad, to tell the truth. I was kinda level on it.
But in true Claudette style, with the final crumble of my marriage, I decided, without the husband who in my mind equaled the stress, I didn't need the stress meds.
To be completely honest, I don't think I've done bad all these five years without the medication but like I said. You can on'y fool the crowd for so long and a big breakdown is coming. I know it. I feel it like a storm coming up.
So even though I'm having second and third thoughts about going back on behavioral medications, I'm going to do it if that's what they want me to do.
Hmmm...
Make that second, third fourth, and fifth thoughts...
Friday, December 02, 2011
Cold, cold morning
So this morning actually started off okay. No real complaints... I got the.kids off and sat and drank my iced coffee... I need to lay off those things... My back hurts a lot which means I've gained weight and I doubt the fraps are helping me in that quarter...
So after I got dressed I left the house only to find my son and his friends STILL standing out at the bus stop. Keep in mind that he has now been outside an hour. And is cold. Like frost still clinging to the ground cold. So of course I'm a little miffed. I called the bus home office...again... And they told me that she is usually on time. I didn't have to tell the woman that this wasn't true because I had her on speaker and about six kids all yelled "bullshit!" Into my window. She has.been consistantly late for three months now almost to the point that they rarely get to school on time. The lady said shed fix this and since I was already late to my appointment I had no choice but to drive on.
I get the the office and this woman... I wanna call her a drifted or hungover or still drunk but Idk... She wants to have an effing family reunion in the parking lot holding everyone up... Got past that, got in and registered and now I'm waiting to see the Dr.
I swear today is a day that the devil will not prevail. I will make this a good day.
That being said, I may need to blog later. :-D
Happy morning bloggies!!
Thursday, December 01, 2011
Grrr... Changing my phone number
I have never been one of those people that does well with change. I can take it in stride to a good point ut it's the little things that piss me off about change... like all of it.
I didn't do well moving here. When I had to go over a month with no fridge and no stove I didn't handle it well. When my kids were still sleeping on air mattresses after five months, I admit it, I had a bit of a meltdown. Okay, not a bit, more like a Mt. St. Helen's size but it's whatever. They got mattresses and they got beds so we're all good.
When I got my cell number in July2010 I expected that even though Verizon says they don't recycle number less than 90 days young I would be getting calls for the previous owner for a few weeks. Well a few weeks turned into a few months and then a few months turned into a year and that turned into sixteen months...
I weathered them all very well. I explained to some people that she'd gotten rid of this number. I explained to more people that she didn't have that number... I explained to her gynecologists office that she didn't have this number.
I even told her bank when they called because she was over drawn...
And her best friend when she texted that I was invited to her birthday block party....
And her daughter when she texted me to tell me that I was going to be a grandmother...
To their credit, most of her callers are pleasant. Even her texters are pleasant. Every now and then I would get one that would be upset or angry but only twice have I gotten told off by one of her people. Today was the final time.
The guy that called today informed me that he met Amanda (That her name) in the club this past Saturday night and this is the number she gave him. He didn't know what game she and her girl were playing but the both of us could go to hell. There were some other expletives in there that were colorful to say the least but I handled. He may or may not be shitting bricks right now because after I ripped his asshole a few inches wider, I informed him that I had his number and knew that he was in Charlotte, NC and would be hearing from the police for harassment.
I then got on the phone and called Verizon. I explained to the lady that I couldn't take anymore and as of the 5th I will have a new number.
So why is this so hard? Because I have a memory like a sieve. I'm serious. Shit goes in and drips out like five seconds later ALL THE TIME. I sent out like fifty texts announcing my number change and immediately had to redo the text because I got my own number wrong. I mean damn... On Monday I will have to call the trash people, the gas, the electric, the realtor, two kids schools, make sure my mom has it, the ex has it, the in laws have it...
Seriously guys, you know me... you know this is going to be bad for a few months...
Oh I totally forgot, there is actually a twist to this... Amanda called me a few months ago and told me outright that this was her business number and she was trying to tell everyone to stop calling and texting (This was after I got her news of impending grandmother hood before her) to stop but it might be a few days. I was nice and said it was okay. That's probably why I let this go on so long, I was under the impression that she was trying to get in contact with her people...
I can only pity the person that get my the 8470 number after I do. There are some people that I am not giving the new number to only because I don't talk to them via text or phone and then some people that have been placed in the stalker bin but I just didn't bother changing my number.
So as of the 5th, it's changed.
This is going to give me a constant headache. I know it will. I can feel it coming. It's going to take until Monday to get here but that Bastard is coming... Groan... Why can't people just do what they are supposed to do?? If you meet a guy in the club and don't want him to have your number just give him Jenny's number. You seriously cannot go wrong with 867-5309...
I didn't do well moving here. When I had to go over a month with no fridge and no stove I didn't handle it well. When my kids were still sleeping on air mattresses after five months, I admit it, I had a bit of a meltdown. Okay, not a bit, more like a Mt. St. Helen's size but it's whatever. They got mattresses and they got beds so we're all good.
When I got my cell number in July2010 I expected that even though Verizon says they don't recycle number less than 90 days young I would be getting calls for the previous owner for a few weeks. Well a few weeks turned into a few months and then a few months turned into a year and that turned into sixteen months...
I weathered them all very well. I explained to some people that she'd gotten rid of this number. I explained to more people that she didn't have that number... I explained to her gynecologists office that she didn't have this number.
I even told her bank when they called because she was over drawn...
And her best friend when she texted that I was invited to her birthday block party....
And her daughter when she texted me to tell me that I was going to be a grandmother...
To their credit, most of her callers are pleasant. Even her texters are pleasant. Every now and then I would get one that would be upset or angry but only twice have I gotten told off by one of her people. Today was the final time.
The guy that called today informed me that he met Amanda (That her name) in the club this past Saturday night and this is the number she gave him. He didn't know what game she and her girl were playing but the both of us could go to hell. There were some other expletives in there that were colorful to say the least but I handled. He may or may not be shitting bricks right now because after I ripped his asshole a few inches wider, I informed him that I had his number and knew that he was in Charlotte, NC and would be hearing from the police for harassment.
I then got on the phone and called Verizon. I explained to the lady that I couldn't take anymore and as of the 5th I will have a new number.
So why is this so hard? Because I have a memory like a sieve. I'm serious. Shit goes in and drips out like five seconds later ALL THE TIME. I sent out like fifty texts announcing my number change and immediately had to redo the text because I got my own number wrong. I mean damn... On Monday I will have to call the trash people, the gas, the electric, the realtor, two kids schools, make sure my mom has it, the ex has it, the in laws have it...
Seriously guys, you know me... you know this is going to be bad for a few months...
Oh I totally forgot, there is actually a twist to this... Amanda called me a few months ago and told me outright that this was her business number and she was trying to tell everyone to stop calling and texting (This was after I got her news of impending grandmother hood before her) to stop but it might be a few days. I was nice and said it was okay. That's probably why I let this go on so long, I was under the impression that she was trying to get in contact with her people...
I can only pity the person that get my the 8470 number after I do. There are some people that I am not giving the new number to only because I don't talk to them via text or phone and then some people that have been placed in the stalker bin but I just didn't bother changing my number.
So as of the 5th, it's changed.
This is going to give me a constant headache. I know it will. I can feel it coming. It's going to take until Monday to get here but that Bastard is coming... Groan... Why can't people just do what they are supposed to do?? If you meet a guy in the club and don't want him to have your number just give him Jenny's number. You seriously cannot go wrong with 867-5309...
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Parents killing their kids...
I can say this probably because I'm done having children so I might be looking at this from a kinda warped point of view, but I really think the government should get involved with reproduction.
We've all seen it in the sci fi movies and movies about what the future would/could be like...
Reproduction is handled by the government. They give you the permission and they give you the means and so on.
I'm not sure how they would take away our God given right to reproduce but I really feel it should be done.
Why??
Because way too many unstable people are out there hving kids.
Everyday, you read about someone who left her kids in the bathtub to drown, or today i read about a woman that threw one child out of a window and was shot by police because she wouldn't stop stabbing her five year old. What the fuck is going on with parents these days.
Don't get me wrong, I so fully understand SOME of the motivation it takes to want to do very bad things to kids sometimes. Like when my kids eat ALL the food in the house without regard to maybe I'd like to eat to. I want to rant and scream and throw things. When my kids use the walls as poster and chalkboards I want to paint them into the wall. But I never, repeat NEVER want to end their lives. Not even the night that Jovaughn and Kayla went over the walls in Jovaughn's room with black sharpie and black crayon the night before my Navy move out inspection did I want to kill them. Not when JOvaughn cut Kayla's hair so short the child looked like a little boy with a small fro for over a year did I want to kill him. Do very bad things like spank until my hand bled, yes, wrap my hands around their throats until their lives subsided, HELL NO!
I honestly believe that if the government had some kind of control over breeding and reproduction things would be a lot different. The screening process to be allowed to have a child would be worse than one to adopt a child today. This being said, very few people would pass and I am going to include myself post marriage. Pre marriage I probably still wouldn't have passed because it was all kind of idyllic to me but post marriage I wouldn't pass because I have some serious mental issues.
This has got to stop. Parents have to stop having mental breakdowns and hurting innocent children. Okay so sometimes they act like the spawn of satan. That doesn't mean you go build an alter of fire out back and give the kid back to the flames of hell. It means you take a step back and breathe, and come at the kid from a different mental angle or if you can't. You honestly can't, you need to at least try to hold on to the mental capacity big enough to go away.
What can I say? There's no right way to parent no matter how many women strap on a cardigan and a string of pearls and go on television and give you tips. There's no right way to be a mom or dad, but there are a million wrong ways and there are people out there that are willing to help save your children from one of those wrong ways. Take your kids to a neighbor!
If someone were to pull into my driveway and knock on my door and say "My kids are the spawn of Satan and I need you to take them away from me right now, I would ask for names, give you a crazy look while I'm dialing 911, get your kids situated and make sure that no one was in a position to get hurt. Why? Because I understand what it feels like to snap.
Sigh... I've got nothing left. I was probably going to go on for a while but the I went on Facebook and someone made me laugh and it was forgotten.
Sigh...
We've all seen it in the sci fi movies and movies about what the future would/could be like...
Reproduction is handled by the government. They give you the permission and they give you the means and so on.
I'm not sure how they would take away our God given right to reproduce but I really feel it should be done.
Why??
Because way too many unstable people are out there hving kids.
Everyday, you read about someone who left her kids in the bathtub to drown, or today i read about a woman that threw one child out of a window and was shot by police because she wouldn't stop stabbing her five year old. What the fuck is going on with parents these days.
Don't get me wrong, I so fully understand SOME of the motivation it takes to want to do very bad things to kids sometimes. Like when my kids eat ALL the food in the house without regard to maybe I'd like to eat to. I want to rant and scream and throw things. When my kids use the walls as poster and chalkboards I want to paint them into the wall. But I never, repeat NEVER want to end their lives. Not even the night that Jovaughn and Kayla went over the walls in Jovaughn's room with black sharpie and black crayon the night before my Navy move out inspection did I want to kill them. Not when JOvaughn cut Kayla's hair so short the child looked like a little boy with a small fro for over a year did I want to kill him. Do very bad things like spank until my hand bled, yes, wrap my hands around their throats until their lives subsided, HELL NO!
I honestly believe that if the government had some kind of control over breeding and reproduction things would be a lot different. The screening process to be allowed to have a child would be worse than one to adopt a child today. This being said, very few people would pass and I am going to include myself post marriage. Pre marriage I probably still wouldn't have passed because it was all kind of idyllic to me but post marriage I wouldn't pass because I have some serious mental issues.
This has got to stop. Parents have to stop having mental breakdowns and hurting innocent children. Okay so sometimes they act like the spawn of satan. That doesn't mean you go build an alter of fire out back and give the kid back to the flames of hell. It means you take a step back and breathe, and come at the kid from a different mental angle or if you can't. You honestly can't, you need to at least try to hold on to the mental capacity big enough to go away.
What can I say? There's no right way to parent no matter how many women strap on a cardigan and a string of pearls and go on television and give you tips. There's no right way to be a mom or dad, but there are a million wrong ways and there are people out there that are willing to help save your children from one of those wrong ways. Take your kids to a neighbor!
If someone were to pull into my driveway and knock on my door and say "My kids are the spawn of Satan and I need you to take them away from me right now, I would ask for names, give you a crazy look while I'm dialing 911, get your kids situated and make sure that no one was in a position to get hurt. Why? Because I understand what it feels like to snap.
Sigh... I've got nothing left. I was probably going to go on for a while but the I went on Facebook and someone made me laugh and it was forgotten.
Sigh...
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Family of teen struck by car on Lone Mountain Road speaks out - www.ktnv.com
Family of teen struck by car on Lone Mountain Road speaks out - www.ktnv.com
This is one of my best friend's daughter. Please pray for her. She needs every scrap of prayer that anyone can give. They also need donations, but Prayer is free. If you can't sent monetary help please please please send prayer!!!
This is one of my best friend's daughter. Please pray for her. She needs every scrap of prayer that anyone can give. They also need donations, but Prayer is free. If you can't sent monetary help please please please send prayer!!!
Monday, November 28, 2011
So Hmmm...
I think I may be going through one of those manic moments where the need to put the thoughts out of my head may just have reached a crucial point. I think I have a panic switch in my head and when the thoughts pile up enough to reach that level, a hatch just opens and they come pouring out.
Yes, I had a bad night last night but I have those periodically. And yes last nights bad episode was triggered by the ex deliberately trying to hurt my big girl by means of scaring her ass off. Like I said. It may have just lost me a television, but the fact that my daughter can still cuddle up in her protection of Mommy fighting the monsters for a little longer made it well worth it.
So I've been watching my news feed very closely and I see all the posts that people think are slipping by without anyone noticing. At least four people on my newsfeed in the past month have changed their status back to single or in a relationship. One of them made it a point for me to know he was back to single.
Which I honestly don't understand. If you know I am attracted to you and want to be with you, why make it a point to tell me that you're single just so that you can go back to ignoring me? Do you know how much that hurts?
I'm tired of being relegated to the friend role. I don't want to be your friend. I want to be your girlfriend. I feel like putting on a tight leather outfit and doing a rendition of Ashlee Simpson's Girlfriend.
Just once, I think I'd like a man to have the balls to tell me to my face what is it about me that gets me tossed so summarily into the friend category every time. But no, they make dates with you and don't show up. Or all they want is sex. Or all they want is for you to do something for them. Not that all of this is bad. I would just like some reciprocation.
I want to issue a challenge. I want a guy out there who is not too wrapped up in himself pay me attention. I want a guy to put himself to the side for just one stinking moment and at least try to see what a nice dateable person I am.
Oh who am i kidding? It will never happen. Le Sigh...
Yes, I had a bad night last night but I have those periodically. And yes last nights bad episode was triggered by the ex deliberately trying to hurt my big girl by means of scaring her ass off. Like I said. It may have just lost me a television, but the fact that my daughter can still cuddle up in her protection of Mommy fighting the monsters for a little longer made it well worth it.
So I've been watching my news feed very closely and I see all the posts that people think are slipping by without anyone noticing. At least four people on my newsfeed in the past month have changed their status back to single or in a relationship. One of them made it a point for me to know he was back to single.
Which I honestly don't understand. If you know I am attracted to you and want to be with you, why make it a point to tell me that you're single just so that you can go back to ignoring me? Do you know how much that hurts?
I'm tired of being relegated to the friend role. I don't want to be your friend. I want to be your girlfriend. I feel like putting on a tight leather outfit and doing a rendition of Ashlee Simpson's Girlfriend.
Just once, I think I'd like a man to have the balls to tell me to my face what is it about me that gets me tossed so summarily into the friend category every time. But no, they make dates with you and don't show up. Or all they want is sex. Or all they want is for you to do something for them. Not that all of this is bad. I would just like some reciprocation.
I want to issue a challenge. I want a guy out there who is not too wrapped up in himself pay me attention. I want a guy to put himself to the side for just one stinking moment and at least try to see what a nice dateable person I am.
Oh who am i kidding? It will never happen. Le Sigh...
So I may have pinpointed what triggered my bad mood...
Okay, who wants to take a guess?? Come on!! Don't be skured, take a wild guess!
You there! In the corner! You with your hand up! Yes you! What's your guess?
That's right!! Totally correct is the nice man with the millions of cats!! It was the infamous ex!!
So suffice to say I think I totally fucked my chances of weasling a new television out him last night but it was so totally worth it that I would do it again on any damn day of the week.
So I think I may or may not have blogged that my oldest girl needs surgery to fix her eye muscles. She has one lazy eye that goes side to side and one lazy eye that goes up and down. Yeah I know, This is bad eyesight inbreeding at it's best right here. The girl who needed an upped eye glass prescription for most of her life married Mr. Frog eyes and this is the result. Hehe sorry, having a bad day, the alliterations are not going to be nice. They will be colorful but not nice.
Anyway the short of it is, I love my child more than life and air and water, but her eyes are fucked up and surgery will put her on the right path to getting non fucked up eyes. I am totally fine with this so long as they don't blind my child. Her father however is not fine with this because he, and I quote, has "lived his entire life in glasses and done just fine."
Do not even get me started. You know how when you come out of a bad relationship and you look back and wonder if you were drunk the entire time? Yeah that's me. He had the potential to be a nice guy... sometimes... and he was an okay father... sometimes... but physically speaking I think he must have exuded this roofie aura cause the only way I can explain being physically attracted to him was if I was seriously strung out for the entire time I was with him.
Anyway, so last night he was speaking to the kids and he asked Kayla where her glasses were and she flat out admitted that she lost them. He then had the audacity to tell her that if she didn't start wearing the glasses they were going to cut into her face.
Yes you read that so right... cut into her face...
I mean what the fuck?? Who the hell says that to a child??? I don't think she heard what he was saying because I was smart enough to know where he was going when the sentence started off with "Do you know what's going to happen if you don 't wear your glasses?"
Man bloggers, I lit into his ass. Normally I say our children or your child or some version of possessiveness but last night the main line I kept screaming at him was that he was not going to do that to my daughter. He was not going to scare my daughter. I totally pulled the whoile mther lion whose cubs just got fucked with routine and you know what, I think I may have gotten through to him.
How can I tell? Simple. He was stuttering. He only stutters when I have so totally blacked out on him that shit spewed out of my mouth that may or may not have made sense but definitely hurt. This usually involves spews about his mother and so on. I can't honestly tell you all the things that I said but I know that I screamed at him for over ten minutes and felt physically lighter when I was done.
I also had a great sense of loss for the flat screen television that I was trying to make him get for us...
Damn mouth... but it needed to be said. Whatever I said.
So yeah, I think I have pinpointed why I want to run around screaming at everyone that makes eye contact with me... Hmmm... That was easy... Everyone should have a blog. It makes life a lot clearer.
You can come out now. The sotrm is about over... I promise not to hurt the innocent ones anymore.
For the next few minutes anyway...
Insert really scary maniacal grin here...
You there! In the corner! You with your hand up! Yes you! What's your guess?
That's right!! Totally correct is the nice man with the millions of cats!! It was the infamous ex!!
So suffice to say I think I totally fucked my chances of weasling a new television out him last night but it was so totally worth it that I would do it again on any damn day of the week.
So I think I may or may not have blogged that my oldest girl needs surgery to fix her eye muscles. She has one lazy eye that goes side to side and one lazy eye that goes up and down. Yeah I know, This is bad eyesight inbreeding at it's best right here. The girl who needed an upped eye glass prescription for most of her life married Mr. Frog eyes and this is the result. Hehe sorry, having a bad day, the alliterations are not going to be nice. They will be colorful but not nice.
Anyway the short of it is, I love my child more than life and air and water, but her eyes are fucked up and surgery will put her on the right path to getting non fucked up eyes. I am totally fine with this so long as they don't blind my child. Her father however is not fine with this because he, and I quote, has "lived his entire life in glasses and done just fine."
Do not even get me started. You know how when you come out of a bad relationship and you look back and wonder if you were drunk the entire time? Yeah that's me. He had the potential to be a nice guy... sometimes... and he was an okay father... sometimes... but physically speaking I think he must have exuded this roofie aura cause the only way I can explain being physically attracted to him was if I was seriously strung out for the entire time I was with him.
Anyway, so last night he was speaking to the kids and he asked Kayla where her glasses were and she flat out admitted that she lost them. He then had the audacity to tell her that if she didn't start wearing the glasses they were going to cut into her face.
Yes you read that so right... cut into her face...
I mean what the fuck?? Who the hell says that to a child??? I don't think she heard what he was saying because I was smart enough to know where he was going when the sentence started off with "Do you know what's going to happen if you don 't wear your glasses?"
Man bloggers, I lit into his ass. Normally I say our children or your child or some version of possessiveness but last night the main line I kept screaming at him was that he was not going to do that to my daughter. He was not going to scare my daughter. I totally pulled the whoile mther lion whose cubs just got fucked with routine and you know what, I think I may have gotten through to him.
How can I tell? Simple. He was stuttering. He only stutters when I have so totally blacked out on him that shit spewed out of my mouth that may or may not have made sense but definitely hurt. This usually involves spews about his mother and so on. I can't honestly tell you all the things that I said but I know that I screamed at him for over ten minutes and felt physically lighter when I was done.
I also had a great sense of loss for the flat screen television that I was trying to make him get for us...
Damn mouth... but it needed to be said. Whatever I said.
So yeah, I think I have pinpointed why I want to run around screaming at everyone that makes eye contact with me... Hmmm... That was easy... Everyone should have a blog. It makes life a lot clearer.
You can come out now. The sotrm is about over... I promise not to hurt the innocent ones anymore.
For the next few minutes anyway...
Insert really scary maniacal grin here...
Excuse me I need to have a mental breakdown day...
This is your disclaimer. This is one of those foul mouth blogs that it would be better for you not to read if you have a sensitive stomach. This is your first and last warning!
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* Seriously, this is it folks. I have opened up a can of foul mouth monkey and there is no turning back after this. Walk away. Walk away now!
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I'm sorry, but this is going to be one of those days where I just am no good to anyone. None at all. I just want to run around and scream "Fuck you!" at anyone unfortunate enough to make eye contact with me.
I think everyone has those days, they're just too pussy to admit it. Well, I'm admitting it. I'm having one of those days and if you don't want to get your feelings hurt, DON'T READ!
I am so damn tired of people acting like I'm not allowed to have a life because I have kids.
I will not sit around my house wasting away and waiting for shit to hit DVD because I couldn't get to the movies anymore. I will not sit at home waiting for you to see if maybe I want to tag along. Man fuck you! I am not the third wheel on your fucked up ass tricycle!
My kids are not your responsibility. AT ALL! Did you carry them for nine months? Did you lay down with me and help create them? Were you there in the delivery room when I had them? Where were you when I was up all fucking night changing diapers and doing feedings?? Huh? You were living your merry little life not knowing or caring that I was even alive. Not caring or knowing that they were alive so why the fuck do you want to look at me now that they're here and I feel like after twelve years I wanna go do something while they enjoy a little TV time at the house?
You know what? I am a much better mother than some of these tricks out there. I honestly know some tramps and skeezes that leave their children at like six and five at home with sesame street for a goddamn babysitter while they go have lives. My kids are 13, 11, and 10. They are old enough to watch themselves for a couple of hours, old enough not to burn down my fucking house and old enough to know how to dial a fucking phone should something go wrong. They are much older than I was when I was a latch key kid.
I was a latch key kid at 8... In New fucking Jersey! My kids are pre teen in West middle of Bumblefuck, North Carolina! I came home to an empty house and let myself in and called my moms job and let them know I was home and I was fine. My kids can come home and do the same damn thing.
Why am I so mad? Fuck if I know. I'm just tired of sitting home while everyone else has a life and don't fucking say, that's my fault cause that is just one fo the many things that it is not safe for you to say right now.
Like I said, this is one of those days that I just want to act like I'm on world's biggest rag. I want to walk around like I;m fucking Atlas with the ever growing world on my shoulders and screaming one big Ghetto like "What the fuck you lookin; at, bitch?" to everyone that makes eye contact.
And I can do that. Why can I do that? Because I want to.
I told you it was a bad day. And it is a bad day.
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
* Seriously, this is it folks. I have opened up a can of foul mouth monkey and there is no turning back after this. Walk away. Walk away now!
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
I'm sorry, but this is going to be one of those days where I just am no good to anyone. None at all. I just want to run around and scream "Fuck you!" at anyone unfortunate enough to make eye contact with me.
I think everyone has those days, they're just too pussy to admit it. Well, I'm admitting it. I'm having one of those days and if you don't want to get your feelings hurt, DON'T READ!
I am so damn tired of people acting like I'm not allowed to have a life because I have kids.
I will not sit around my house wasting away and waiting for shit to hit DVD because I couldn't get to the movies anymore. I will not sit at home waiting for you to see if maybe I want to tag along. Man fuck you! I am not the third wheel on your fucked up ass tricycle!
My kids are not your responsibility. AT ALL! Did you carry them for nine months? Did you lay down with me and help create them? Were you there in the delivery room when I had them? Where were you when I was up all fucking night changing diapers and doing feedings?? Huh? You were living your merry little life not knowing or caring that I was even alive. Not caring or knowing that they were alive so why the fuck do you want to look at me now that they're here and I feel like after twelve years I wanna go do something while they enjoy a little TV time at the house?
You know what? I am a much better mother than some of these tricks out there. I honestly know some tramps and skeezes that leave their children at like six and five at home with sesame street for a goddamn babysitter while they go have lives. My kids are 13, 11, and 10. They are old enough to watch themselves for a couple of hours, old enough not to burn down my fucking house and old enough to know how to dial a fucking phone should something go wrong. They are much older than I was when I was a latch key kid.
I was a latch key kid at 8... In New fucking Jersey! My kids are pre teen in West middle of Bumblefuck, North Carolina! I came home to an empty house and let myself in and called my moms job and let them know I was home and I was fine. My kids can come home and do the same damn thing.
Why am I so mad? Fuck if I know. I'm just tired of sitting home while everyone else has a life and don't fucking say, that's my fault cause that is just one fo the many things that it is not safe for you to say right now.
Like I said, this is one of those days that I just want to act like I'm on world's biggest rag. I want to walk around like I;m fucking Atlas with the ever growing world on my shoulders and screaming one big Ghetto like "What the fuck you lookin; at, bitch?" to everyone that makes eye contact.
And I can do that. Why can I do that? Because I want to.
I told you it was a bad day. And it is a bad day.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Recap!!
So the last I blogged, I think I was feeling like a speed bump in a truck parking lot... Well Thanksgiving went okay. We didn't go to the parade because well, forty degree weather with a woman that seriously sounded like she was trying to pull her lungs out of her mouth, a.k.a. me. It was just a bad thought all around and the very night before when I was on the phone with Mommy I had one hell of a coughing fit and she relented. So no parade. I promised her that next year I would not be sick so we would go.
So I took the turkey, the kabobs, and whatever else I needed to bring over to Mommy's place and we had a good time. We ate, we talked, the kids got to watch television, it was all good. I also made one of those promises to my mother that I really shouldn't have to make but I'm way glad I did... I promised her that Friday morning, I was going to get up and go to the ER.
Well if Thanksgiving night didn't prove to me how much I needed to go, nothing would. I was up ALL NIGHT hacking and wheezing and when I finally got an hours sleep, I woke up suffocating because of my post nasal drip. (They need to find a better description for that... that just sounds yucky) So Friday morning, around nine I just couldn't take it anymore and I hopped in the car and went to the ER. Well first I went to Presbyterian but they have finished the ER entrance and I was directed to it but on the way a little voice inside my head said "Fool you have medicaid and they keep telling you to go to CMC, why not listen to the for once?" So I went to CMC.
The waiting room was deserted and I got in quickly. Now getting to see the DR. That was an hour or so wait. The ER had filled up by the time I got in there but it was no big deal they had QR codes everywhere and I had fun using my phone to try and read them, which BTW, while this is a great way to amuse yourself, their QR codes can only be read by their QR scanners. So then I played cut the rope on my phone and when the battery started to die, I plugged it up and began to read. Oh yes I come prepared with ish to do in the ER. When you have been here as many times as I have, you learn to occpy yourself.
Aside note, on my way to the hospital I passed by my friendly local Occupy Charlotte camp and OMG. Suffice to say I would have given up and gone home long LONG time ago. A more unsanitary place I have yet to see. It looked like the one camp ground on my old Girl Scout campground that we didn't use because it was just grody. They have NO showers, NO toilets, and nowhere to dump the waste they have to get rid of when the local businesses deny them their bathrooms which they have already done. The government buildings it seems can't deny them access to their bathrooms when they are open so they go there but on weekends and holidays the occupiers have to depend on the local business and they have decided an basic unanimous eff you and have ALL put up signs stating no business, no bathroom. They said some of the campers do have money so they are okay but most do not The camp just look disgusting. I couldn't do it.
Okay back to me. So the Dr. finally comes in and she listens to me and looks at me and I tell her how I've been feeling and what I've been doing and she says I have bronchitis. She prescribes me Prednisone (My head and heart dropped any asthmatic HATES being on this for any stretch of time), Claritin, Albuterol, a Z pack, and a cough medicine that makes me sleepy. They gave me my first dose of everything right there in the ER which I didn't notice until much later, I felt better already. Despite the fact that I had taken prednisone. She also gave me a list of Dr.'s that take medicaid. So I'm feeling good, I have a lead on a Dr. and my mom is happy. It's like the freaking trifecta and I'm loving it.
The only thing that could possibly make anything better right now is if I didn't have to be alone on Christmas. I've sat here and thought about it and not one year, can I remember Randy being there at Christmas for the kids. I mean he was certainly never there for me any day but you know, just once I think I would like to curl up with someone in front of the tree and see where it goes. Maybe draw a hot steamy bath in my mega huge tub and play a little. Hmmm....
I'm kinda at a conundrum because I really want a laptop for Christmas as well and I usually only harp on one thing to Santa... I think the man might just have to wait until next year because I really want the laptop that I know I'm not going to get. I really really really want a laptop. You have no idea how much... Like five times more than I want a man, and that's saying something really major right there...
Eh, whatever... Well, happy Thanksgiving. I hope it was happy for everyone. Love you!
So I took the turkey, the kabobs, and whatever else I needed to bring over to Mommy's place and we had a good time. We ate, we talked, the kids got to watch television, it was all good. I also made one of those promises to my mother that I really shouldn't have to make but I'm way glad I did... I promised her that Friday morning, I was going to get up and go to the ER.
Well if Thanksgiving night didn't prove to me how much I needed to go, nothing would. I was up ALL NIGHT hacking and wheezing and when I finally got an hours sleep, I woke up suffocating because of my post nasal drip. (They need to find a better description for that... that just sounds yucky) So Friday morning, around nine I just couldn't take it anymore and I hopped in the car and went to the ER. Well first I went to Presbyterian but they have finished the ER entrance and I was directed to it but on the way a little voice inside my head said "Fool you have medicaid and they keep telling you to go to CMC, why not listen to the for once?" So I went to CMC.
The waiting room was deserted and I got in quickly. Now getting to see the DR. That was an hour or so wait. The ER had filled up by the time I got in there but it was no big deal they had QR codes everywhere and I had fun using my phone to try and read them, which BTW, while this is a great way to amuse yourself, their QR codes can only be read by their QR scanners. So then I played cut the rope on my phone and when the battery started to die, I plugged it up and began to read. Oh yes I come prepared with ish to do in the ER. When you have been here as many times as I have, you learn to occpy yourself.
Aside note, on my way to the hospital I passed by my friendly local Occupy Charlotte camp and OMG. Suffice to say I would have given up and gone home long LONG time ago. A more unsanitary place I have yet to see. It looked like the one camp ground on my old Girl Scout campground that we didn't use because it was just grody. They have NO showers, NO toilets, and nowhere to dump the waste they have to get rid of when the local businesses deny them their bathrooms which they have already done. The government buildings it seems can't deny them access to their bathrooms when they are open so they go there but on weekends and holidays the occupiers have to depend on the local business and they have decided an basic unanimous eff you and have ALL put up signs stating no business, no bathroom. They said some of the campers do have money so they are okay but most do not The camp just look disgusting. I couldn't do it.
Okay back to me. So the Dr. finally comes in and she listens to me and looks at me and I tell her how I've been feeling and what I've been doing and she says I have bronchitis. She prescribes me Prednisone (My head and heart dropped any asthmatic HATES being on this for any stretch of time), Claritin, Albuterol, a Z pack, and a cough medicine that makes me sleepy. They gave me my first dose of everything right there in the ER which I didn't notice until much later, I felt better already. Despite the fact that I had taken prednisone. She also gave me a list of Dr.'s that take medicaid. So I'm feeling good, I have a lead on a Dr. and my mom is happy. It's like the freaking trifecta and I'm loving it.
The only thing that could possibly make anything better right now is if I didn't have to be alone on Christmas. I've sat here and thought about it and not one year, can I remember Randy being there at Christmas for the kids. I mean he was certainly never there for me any day but you know, just once I think I would like to curl up with someone in front of the tree and see where it goes. Maybe draw a hot steamy bath in my mega huge tub and play a little. Hmmm....
I'm kinda at a conundrum because I really want a laptop for Christmas as well and I usually only harp on one thing to Santa... I think the man might just have to wait until next year because I really want the laptop that I know I'm not going to get. I really really really want a laptop. You have no idea how much... Like five times more than I want a man, and that's saying something really major right there...
Eh, whatever... Well, happy Thanksgiving. I hope it was happy for everyone. Love you!
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