Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Oh and they're growing! As if they weren't big enough... hellloooo dolly parton. I lifted my shirt in the kitchen last night and told big daddy to hold them. "Just hold them and see how heavy these fuckers are!" He just stood there and laughed. "It's not funny. Why are you laughing?! You asshole you did this to me - I will cut you!" Then he had to leave the room because he got a boner and I won't let him have sex with me because I don't want to risk it. Also, the mood swings. Between the mood swings and no sex rule I'm surprised BD hasn't moved out. Seriously. I would have divorced my ass by now.
I made some cookies last night and put them on a plate on the coffee table and BB shoved three in his mouth like I can't count or something, so I reached over to grab another cookie for "the baby" and BD said "why don't you move that plate away from him?" I did an exorcist head spin and said "WHY DON'T YOU MOVE THE PLATE AWAY FROM HIM?!?!" And the logical answer is because I was already touching the plate, but the crazy answer was I don't like being told what to do apparently. Poor big daddy, he just pretended like I didn't go crazy psycho bitch on him and handed me another cookie. Then baby boy goes "why do I only get three cookies when mom ate SIX?!" To which I replied "three for me, three for the BABY - preschooler who can suddenly count!" I think he bought it.
Also, I'm starving and exhausted. I lay down on the couch every day when I get home from work. Then I wake up and want to go to bed at 730. And the eating? What the hell? I'm pretty sure it's not pc to call your embryo a fat ass, but if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck... For breakfast yesterday I had a bacon, egg, and cheese mcmuffin, a sausage and cheese kolache, and two glazed donuts.
I guess I can handle all of this. Anything is better than puking all.freaking.day like I did with BB. Now I'm going home to take a nap. And possibly eat. Again.
Friday, October 23, 2009
According to the rules, I'm supposed to list 7 interesting things about myself. I'm not very interesting, but I will do my best. Oh, and also I'm supposed to tag 7 people for this award. That, I can do.
1. When I pass a cow pasture (stop laughing, I live in TX) I like to think that people only keep cows so they don't have to mow the grass. I even asked big daddy if we could get a cow. It would save us a fortune on lawn service. He said only if we could get a goat too. Getting a goat for the backyard is like the dumbest idea ever. So it looks like we will neither be getting a cow or a goat because my husband is ridiculous.
2. Man, this is harder than I thought. hmmm My left boob is like way bigger than my right one. It's like they have that twin to twin transfusion syndrome and lefty is sucking the life right out of thelma. And before you ask, lefty used to be named louise but now she's so fat she doesn't look like a louise anymore.
3. Once I was slipped a roofie in college and I drove back to my dorm because I "wasn't feeling well" and a cop pulled in behind me and asked me to get out of the car and then I tripped on the seatbelt and fell flat on my face and he's all "this is probably a dumb question, but have you been drinking?" I'm all "I had one beer I SWEAR!" Granted, it was big ass beer night, but still it was only the one. Then the craziest thing happened, he told me I could go home or he could arrest me. Like, do people actually choose the latter option? So I crawled, yes CRAWLED, up the stairs to my dorm room and puked up everything that I had eaten in the past eight years. My roommate came home, checked my pulse, and went back out. God I miss college.
4. I dropped my infant brother on his head more than once. I'm fairly certain that's where most of his issues stem from, but there is no way in hell I'm fessing up to that one. Who leaves a 6 year old in charge of an infant anyways? It's like my mom was asking for me to damage his brain. Munchausen by proxy, anyone?
5. When I was three my dad left an entire glass of wine on the table when he went to take a shower and I drank the entire thing in about 2 minutes flat. They found me passed out, half on the couch, half off, with a firm grasp on my blankie and drool puddling on my shoulder. And that folks is when my lushiness all started. Thanks DAD.
6. Right before I walked down the aisle I was like super nervous, so my gma gave me something to "calm me down". She neglected to tell me it was a xanax. So yeah, I was pretty much high (low?) when I said I do. The minister was all "I could see that you were getting misty eyed." No, actually my eyes were glazed over from the narcotic. Thanks GMA.
7. I thought it would be a super fabulous idea to get my clit hood pierced for my 24th bday. And it was awesome for a while. It was new and special because nobody else had one. After a while I forgot about it. Until the labor and delivery nurse went to check my dilation and said "um, you're gonna have to take this out." I told her I hadn't even seen my vagina in 8 weeks so that wouldn't be possible. Nothing says humility like a 45 year old nurse trying to take out your vag piercing while your in labor. Good times.
There are my 7 things. I will tag people later. I'm getting hungry.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Here are the rules for the Over The Top Award:
USE ONLY ONE WORD! It’s not as easy as you might think. Copy and change the answers to suit yourself and pass it on. It’s really hard to use only one-word answers so try your best.
Tag 6 other bloggers and let them know that you think they are 'Over the Top'!
1. Where is your cell phone? desk
2.Your hair? up
3. Your mother? nurturing
4. Your father? deceased
5. Your favorite food? southern
6. Your dream last night? scary
7. Your favorite drink? wine
8. Your dream/goal? midwife
9. What room are you in? office
10. Your hobby? cooking
11. Your fear? clowns
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? respected
13. Where were you last night? restaurant
14. Something that you aren’t? shy
15. Muffins? chocolate
16. Wish list item? laminate
17. Where did you grow up? Orange
18. Last thing you did? coffee
19. What are you wearing? slacks
20. Your TV? big
21. Your pets? old
22. Friends? cherished
23. Your life? crazy
24. Your mood? thrilled
25. Missing someone? always
26. Vehicle? SUV
27. Something you’re not wearing? shoes
28. Your favorite store? Target
29. Your favorite color? red
30. When was the last time you laughed? yesterday
31. Last time you cried? saturday
32. Your best friend? Amber
33. One place that I go to over and over? work
34. One person who emails me regularly? honey
35. Favorite place to eat? lupe's
1. Amber at Everybody's Working for the Weekend
2. Candice at Life According to Candice
3. Crystal at It's Not Me, It's You
4. SamsMama at Raising Stink
5. Erin Jeannine at You Should Learn One New Thing Every Day
Monday, October 19, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
How I long to remember what it was like when I didn't know what my husband did with his balls when he took a shadoobie. The mystery was still there. For all I knew, he tied those long fuckers in a bow and put them on the back of the toilet. But now, NOW, 6 years into marriage, I know what he does. He rests them on the toilet seat like a delicate little package. No pun intended. I long to remember what it was like before I knew he clipped his toenails over the BATH TUB. And how I never knew why we had baby powder...before we even had a baby. Now I know. Sweaty crack. I digress.
Those days are long gone now. Now his idea of foreplay is "hey you wanna bang? It helps me fall asleep."
Back to this morning... A little back story...BD like to take a shit every morning when I'm brushing my teeth. How fucking gross is that?! There are THREE bathrooms in my house and he needs to use the one that I'm in? So, this morning in our bathroom:
Me - "Oh, I guess you came in here to take a shit again, right?!" (I'm not a morning person)
BD - "Are you about to brush your teeth?"
Me - "No, I just did"
BD - "Then no"
Then he grabbed the tweezers and plucked a stray hair off my nipple! WTF has happened to us?!
Friday, September 11, 2009
There is a particular offender here at work. He sits right outside my office door. Like seriously two feet from my door. He can be eating a bagel and it sounds like a cow chewing on drywall screws. I honestly don't know how he does it. It's like he was sent here by satan himself to drive me batshit crazy. This is every fucking day. Every day I have to listen to this assface eat his breakfast, snacks and lunch outside my door. Oh, and we musn't forget his afternoon apple! We have a cafeteria ya know!!! Would it kill him to go eat amongst the rest of the humans, away from his computer?
What am I thinking. He has probably been bannned from the cafeteria for his vomit inducing table manners.
Sometimes I really feel like I'm being punk'd. He takes a bite, chews it with his mouth wide open, then takes a drink and swishes it around. Then he repeats that cycle, until my forehead vein is about to rupture. THEN he burps really loud when he's done. Like burping is perfectly normal in an office. Where people with ears work. Maybe that's acceptable in china, but not here buddy! That kind of behavior in the good ol' US of A will get a blog written about you and pretend daggars thrown at the back of your balding head!!
So...what's your pet peeve?
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
A man came in with complaints of a swollen testicle. Guy looked like he was rode hard and put up wet. He had one of those beards that had no beginning and no end and just flowed right on down to mingle in with his chest hair. His wife had on a supermarket shirt and was wearing a hat that said "I fish, therefore I lie". She just kept playing her little pocket solitaire game completely oblivious to what was going on, except at one point she yelled out "elephantitis!" ??? Yeah, they were one of those couples. Anyhow, this is how that conversation went.
Me - "Sir, can you tell me what brough you in today?"
Sir - "Well my testicle began swelling last night and it hurts somethin' awful"
Me - "Why don't you pull your pants down and let us have a look at....OHMYCHRIST! WHAT ATE YOUR DICK?? ...is what I yelled in my head, but managed to keep a completely professional demeanor.
It took me a second to gain my composure and form my next line of questioning. I can't even begin to put into words how big this dudes balls were. Let's put it this way, they were so swollen that his nut sack didn't have any wrinkles on it anymore.
Me - "So, um, sir, has this ever happened before?"
Sir - "Well I had testicular cancer and had the left one removed, but not since then"
Jeezus, that's only ONE BALL??!! And his penis had swelled up to a size that would make Jenna Jameson's vagina cry for mercy.
Me - "Let me go get the doctor, I really think he needs to see this"
Guy ended up having cellulitis of the testicle. We admitted him for some major IV antibiotics. I was for sure they were gonna have to lop that shit right off. I'm secretly falling in love with the ER now.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Well, today is my final for level III. The last thing standing between me and my last semester. To say I'm nervous about it would be an understatement.
So I'm having lunch with big daddy today, and he can tell I'm freaking out. Then he says this (with a totally straight face):
"I can't imagine the hell your sphincter is going through right now"
And that, my friends, is how I know I've found my soulmate.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
We pulled up and it smelled like sewage in the parking lot. Awesome. Actually that's not even a rare smell for these parts. Then we walk in and it smells like a urinal cake. I verbally make note of it. BFF tells me to stop fucking analyzing smells because I'm ruining her appetite. So we order and get our grease wrapped in paper with a side of love handles and sit down. It was good. Of course it was good, it was probably the equivalent of 7,000 calories. Then we hop in the car and head on back to the office which is a couple of blocks away.
I pulled out of the parking lot onto the road and see a dude waiting to cross the street close to where we were. I didn't stop because he was fucking jaywalking and I had the right of way. So he speeds up when we get closer and I literally have to stomp on my brakes to keep from hitting this jackass. I really think he wanted me to hit him. So he's standing in front of my SUV's hood and our eyes meet. I give him my best "WHATTHEFUCKASSHOLE" look and he said, while standing in front of my CAR, "Yeah, you bettah stop BITCH! I'm a pedestrian!" Frankly, I'm shocked he even knew a word that big. I promptly flipped him off and said "FUCK YOU HOMELESS MAN!!" BFF doesn't think he was homeless, but I disagree because he was carrying a bottle of Windex. Clearly if you are carrying Windex you are using it to dive on cars at red lights to wash windshields and demand money. Because you are homeless! Take that BFF! I digress.
Word to the wise, homeless people of Houston, if another one of you assholes calls me a bitch while you are standing in front of my car, be prepared for your face to meet the asphalt.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
BD - I was going to run by the store on my way home to get laundry detergent and milk. need anything else?
Me - Not that I can think of. I need some face moisturizer but you may not want to get that.
Oh wait!!! WINE...I'M OUT OF WINE!!!! Screw the moisturizer...I'll rub wine on my face.
Sometimes I even shock myself.
Oh, and btw, remember the illness that I've been complaining about non-freaking-stop for the past couple of months and how I was convince I probably had aids or cancer?? Well I went to an Ear, Nose, & Throat dr and he actually figured out what is wrong! He sent me for a CT scan and did a laryngoscopy on me. Look that up and then feel way sorry for me. More on that tomorrow. Anyhoo, the scan showed that I have massively infected maxillary and ethmoid sinuses. I had no clue. One more round of antibiotics (this will be the 6th antibiotic by the way) and if this one doesn't work, then it's sinus surgery for yours truly.
Mom - "Well, your daddy went in for his back pain and Dr. WIMLG didn't order any tests."
Me - "Well what did he do?"
Mom - "He told your daddy that he wanted to check his prostate"
Sidebar - my dad had prostate cancer several years ago and had his prostate removed.
Me - "But dad doesn't even have a prostate"
Mom - "Well he reminded Dr. WIMLG of this and do you know what he said? He put on a glove and said let's check it anyway!"
Me - "W.T.F. I agree with changing docs."
My poor dad has had his ass violated more times than an inmate.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
I was looking through profiles of old classmates yesterday and one of them caught my eye. And made me a little green with envy. She just finished residency and is a full fledged ob/gyn now. My dream job. Then I noticed she also just bought a Picasso painting. Like an actual Picasso painting. Not the knock off kind I buy at Kirklands. However, I also saw in one of her messages "that's why we don't have kids!"
That weighed on my mind the whole day. Thinking about all the things I could have done had I not gotten married so young. Had I not partied so much in college and dropped out of the pre-med program. Then this morning when I tickled baby boy's back to wake him up, he rolled over and gave me a big grin. I kissed his head and he climbed up into my lap and nuzzled his little head into my chest. He wrapped his arm around me and started patting my back in the same rythm that I was rocking him. And then I realized, that I would take this moment, and all the stuff that comes with it, even the temper tantrums and potty training, the time outs and the crayon on the wall....over a picasso any.day.of.the.week. She should be jealous of me.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Then came time for the intervention. He flipped the fuck out when he found out they wanted him to go away to get help. After they threatened to have him committed, he agreed to go to rehab. Big daddy said, "I bet you he's gonna finish treatment." We always make stupid bets with eachother. So I'm all, "There's no way, he's way too far gone for rehab to help." I've learned which way to go because most people on this show relapse, and also I'm tired of losing sexual favor bets to big daddy. I have TMJ for christ's sake!
So anyhow, the end of the show comes on and he did actually finish rehab. And then he died 3 weeks later from esophageal cancer. I'm not sure who wins at this point. I'm going with a tie.
Friday, July 10, 2009
I learned why pretty quickly when I did my first rotation in the ER. It was painfully obvious that none of them were happy that I was there in the first place. It must have been nice to have been born a registered nurse, while the rest of us have to go to school for it. Bitches. They really act like they have no recollection of what it was like to be a student. It's hard. Nursing school is hard. And when the person that is supposed to be teaching you is acting like you're a bad case of the flu, it's even harder.
I was so excited about this rotation because I was finally going to get to practice my IV skills. My IV bubble was quickly burst when I was informed I was there to observe only. The fuck? Why would I come in for 12 HOURS to watch someone else do their job? I was beyond pissed, but did what I was told like a good little nursing student and followed the staph around all shift. But then, out of the blue, one of them asked if I wanted to insert a foley. Absolutely! I jumped at the chance. At least I was getting to do something. So I gathered all of my supplies and went into the patients room.
This was the first foley I'd ever done on a male, so I was a little nervous. I began setting up my sterile field and explained the procedure. Then I pulled the covers back and realized he wasn't circumsized. Jesus. As if this wasn't hard enough. So I pulled the foreskin back with my hand. And pulled, and pulled, and pulllleeeeddd. This guy had a 7:1 ratio of foreskin to penis. I finally get to the actual peen and quickly realized why I had been asked to insert this foley on this patient. He had mother fuckin herpes. Awesome. Like I said, ER nurses are bitches.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Not to toot my own horn, but I'm a pretty awesome wife. No, I'm a badass wife that any guy would be lucky to have. (toot toot!) And that badassedness has been taken advantage of recently. You see, big daddy gets to pretty much do whatever he wants. If he wants to go play pool with his friends, or go to a bar, I let him and don't give him any grief. All I ask in return is a little peace and quiet when I need to study, and that he comes home after the bar closes. Well, Friday night he must have gotten brain damage and somehow forgotten the latter of those two rules.
He went to play pool with a friend, and I had clinicals the next day, so baby boy and I hit the sack around 9ish. I woke up to pee at 3:30 and he wasn't home. Somehow I fell back asleep, and woke up again at 4am. He still wasn't home. Panic ensues because I think to myself that surely, SURELY he would not purposely stay out this late. There must have been a horrendous accident. I'm texting every one of his friends to see if they've seen him. I texted him. I'm in full on panic mode by this point. As I'm picking up the phone to call the hospital that is near our house, I get a text saying "I'm sorry, I'm 5 minutes away". I saw red. Smoke was coming out of my ears. My hands were shaking but I managed to text back "YOU BETTER BE MOTHER FUCKER!!"
I'm waiting on the bottom of our stairs. He walks up to the door and every so quietly unlocks it. He's sneaking in like a fucking ninja, having no idea what kind of wrath was about to be unleashed on him. He looked up, saw me on the step with my hands on my hips, and froze right there. I was so mad that I couldn't even form a sentence. I was sputtering expletives at him and then I finally managed a "WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!" And this is where it gets good folks.
You see, big daddy's best friend is single and always trying to pick up ladies. Apparently he found one he liked at the bar. She also happened to be with two other friends. So what do the dumbasses do? Invite them over to his house to go swimming. Seriously. These were the words coming out of my husbands mouth. The mad that I was before compared to the mad I was after this story, would be the difference between a firecracker and Hiroshima. I'm pretty sure I busted a vein in my forehead. I actually had to restrain myself from hitting him. And do you know what that asshole had the nerve to say to me? "But I found us a babysitter!" And then I stabbed him 75 times. Not really, but that's totally what was happening in my head.
So fast forward to today. I still haven't had a normal conversation with him. He swears nothing happened and he "was just there for his friend". I've been going back and forth about what to do. If I let him get away with this he will think it's okay. If you haven't figured it out by now, men are like children. They need to be punished.
So I'm asking you, doogs. What would you do if this was your husband? I really, really want to know because right now I'm at a loss.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Fast forward to last night. The crawfish had been sitting in the backyard in a cooler since Saturday. We were all too hungover to do anything with it until yesterday. So BFF comes over after work with trash bags in hand, ready to dispose of the stinky mess.
We walked out of the backdoor and were almost knocked out by the smell. Think about rotten seafood that has been baking in the sun for two days. Times ten. Yeah, it was hurl inducing. BFF cautiously walked over to the cooler, the cooler that was surrounded by flies, and opened the lid. The she started violently dry heaving while running away...far far away to the other side of the yard.
"There's....OMG there's maggots in it!!!!"
Okay, her just saying the m word made me want to puke. So we gathered our composure and did what came natural. We went inside and poured ourselves a glass of wine. We were just looking at each other with sheer terror in our eyes, because we knew what we had to do.
Me - "There has to be a better way. Let's think this through."
BFF - "I can't touch it. I'm definitely gonna puke."
Ten minutes and another glass of wine go by.
Me - "I've got a shovel!"
BFF - "A shovel! Genius!"
Me - "Get your game face on, it's time."
We pulled our shirts over our faces and drug the cooler of death around to the front of the house. I'm holding a shovel, she's holding trash bags, and there is a bottle of bleach sitting at our feet.
Me - "It looks like we are about to cover up a crime scene and bury a body."
BFF - "If there is a murder in this neighborhood tonight we are so gonna get questioned."
Right about that time big daddy's best friend pulled up in the driveway and volunteered to take the cooler of death to a dumpster!!! Sweet Jesus, we have a reprieve!!
After that deed was done we had to focus our attention on the boilers...which still had the water in them. The water that the crawfish were cooked in. We walked over to those. "Please don't let there be maggots, please don't let their be maggots..."
"You open yours first", I said to BFF. Because I'm a huge pussy. She reached over and pulled off the lid. THANK GOD. It was just gross red water. "Your turn." I took a deep breath and gathered my courage. Whew! That one was clean too.
The guys ended up dumping that down the storm drain. I know, like 17 violations right there. So they were dumping that and we were inconspicuously hosing down the driveway. At 8pm. We may as well be fitted for orange jumpsuits now.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
I drove myself to the ED and was triaged immediately. BD brought baby boy to BFF's house and met me there.* Shockingly, everyone that worked in the ED was really nice. My ECG came back normal so they drew a metric ass ton of blood, hooked up an IV, and put me in a triage area. I was stuck in a room with a 400 lb woman who was also complaining of chest pain and her mother. They did not shut.the.fuck.up the entire time we were in there. She kept talking about her sons Billy and Willie. I couldn't make this shit up.
The nurse gave me some morphine for the pain (never had that before and HOLY HELL is that good stuff). After my pain meds started kicking in I looked at the nurse and said "I bet her chest would stop hurting if she shut her mouth for one fucking second". She then closed my curtain and turned off my light. I think she was hoping I would go to sleep.
My bloodwork came back normal, but I had elevated d-dimer...indicating that I could possibly have a blood clot. So they prepped me for a CT scan of the chest. Another nurse wheeled me back and injected the contrast into my IV. My vag got really hot and tingly and my mouth had a funny taste in it. Much like a typical night in college. I digress...
The CT scan was clear, no pulmonary embolism, thank God! They drew more blood for another cardiac enzyme test three hours later, which also came back normal. They asked if I had been under a lot of stress. I laughed. Out loud. I said "I work full time, go to nursing school full time, and I have a three year old. What do you think?"
The doctor said my chest pain was most likely brought on by stress and the tests showed no damage to my heart. Yay for that! Now I just gotta learn how to relax. I don't even remember how to relax. Any pointers?
*He also sat in the corner of my room watching the basketball game the whole time.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
He climbed in bed with the finesse of an elephant and was out in about two seconds. About an hour later I'm jarred awake by stuff falling off of my nightstand. I pop up and see BD with one knee on my night stand and one hand bracing himself on the wall. "What the fuck are you doing?!" I said in a yell-whisper so as not to wake the baby. "I'm just looking for something." Yeah, okay, get your drunk ass back in bed.
So he walks over to the bathroom, slamming his knee into the corner of the foot of the bed and stepping on the dogs head along the way. So now pretty much every living thing in our house is annoyed with him. He was in the bathroom for about 5 minutes, with the light off, by the way. Then he walks back into the bedroom and over to the window. He pulled the drapes back and started lifting up the blinds. Not by the blind lifty cord, by the bottom of the blinds. "WHAT.THE.FUCK.ARE.YOU.DOING???" My yell whisper was getting louder at this point. "I have to pee." "The bathroom is that way dumbass!" So he closes the drapes, walks back over to the bathroom, locates the toilet and does his business. He made his way back to the bed and didn't cause any more commotion for the rest of the night. Of course he had no recollection of the nights happenings the next morning.
Monday, May 11, 2009
I memorized that ID from top to bottom on the three hour drive across the state line. Name, birthday, address...I had it down. We pull up to the casino and walk in. The over zealous bouncer looks at each ID, then he gets to mine. He looks at it and back at me like four hundred times. I didn't realize before, but my sister in law is 5'2" and I'm 5'6". Plus she has green eyes and I have brown. Plus we pretty much look nothing alike except that we are both caucasian.
"When's your birthday?"
"May 22" I said with a smirk.
"What street do you live on?"
Highly annoyed I answer "Glenpatti"
"Glenpatti what? Street, drive, lane, circle?"
FUCK. I look over at big daddy and beg him silently to somehow telepathically send me some sort of answer.
Overzealous bouncer then says "What's your sign?"
Double FUCK. "I totally don't believe in that stuff."
Then he made my heart fall out of my ass and said "you are gonna have to come with me." Super. My father in law whipped out about ten credit cards and told overzealous bouncer he could easily spend them elsewhere. I'm thinking "you're not fucking al pacino, put your credit cards away...were in enough trouble as it is!!"
We were escorted to the office where our pictures were taken and we had to sign something saying we would never return to the casino. Then they left us alone to go get the cops because apparently you get a one way ticket to jail for using a fake ID at a casino. My father in law turned to us and said "they can't arrest her if they can't find her." So big daddy grabbed my hand and we ran. Seriously. Who does that? As a side note, I was wearing stilettos and didn't really want to run in the first place. Plus the parking lot was made of gravel. I felt like I was stuck in a bad action movie.
We ran all through the parking lot with big daddy dragging my ass by my wrist. Just when we were about to cross the street a cop steps out from behind a car and says "You jest got yerself a one way ticket to jail missy!" I probably shit my pants right about then...it's all a blur really. BD looked at me and said "we wouldn't have gotten caught if you ran faster!!" I yelled back "I'M IN STILETTOS ASSHOLE!!" So the cop handcuffed me and I could have just died right then and there. He read me my rights and escorted me back toward the casino where a crowd was gathering. I'm not sure what inspired me to do what I did next, but I proceeded to throw myself on the ground like a toddler. I told the cop there was no way in hell I was walking in front of all those people while I was handcuffed and he would just have to drag me kicking and screaming. He actually took the handcuffs off for the rest of the walk. He probably thought I was retarded.
We were met by a police car and I was cuffed and stuffed and driven to a jail in the boonies of backwoods louisiana. The inlaws and BD followed in their car. I had to take a mug shot and put on a crusty orange jumpsuit. My mugshot made me look like a serial killer. I think it was the angle. And the streaks of mascara running down my face.
They finally bailed me out around 11pm. And do you know where those fuckers went? To another fucking casino. I had to sit in the kiddie gameroom with my mascara streaked face, bruised wrists, blood shot eyes and injured pride while they gambled. Because, ya know, wouldn't want to waste a trip to louisiana!
Thursday, May 7, 2009
I'm currently wrapping up Level II of nursing school. Half-way there baby! It seems like I was just accepted into the program last month. I took the mid-curricular HESI exam and aced it. It is a good indicator of how you will do on the nursing boards so I'm pretty stoked to find out I'm not a retard.
Level II nursing has been interesting. I've gotten to move to other units for clinicals. Thank God too because if I had to spend another day in the telemetry unit I was probably going to off myself with a bedpan. I helped with a c-section a couple of weeks ago and got puked on. It was still better than telemetry. I got to put in my first foley catheter on a real, live human! Yeah, I rocked it. Don't be jealous. (She may or may not have had an epidural at the time.) I got to witness my first vaginal birth (other than my own) up close and personal. It was gross and messy and beautiful all at the same time. I actually held her leg and coached her while she pushed that wiggly little blob out. Amazing and a little bittersweet for me.
What else has happened....we are gearing up for our guadalupe river trip in a couple of weeks. Four whole days of no kids, sun, floating the river, bbq, classic rock, beer....need I say more? I am so excited! This will be the first vacation big daddy and I have been on without the in-laws in about 57 years. Not that I don't love my in-laws, but lets be honest...it's called a vacation for a reason. Big daddy is lucky I'm letting him go.
I found out monday that my sister in law is having TWIN BOYS!!! I'm over the moon excited and getting every little detail planned for her shower. I can't wait until they are born. Maybe that will hold off the baby crazies for a while since my plumbing is out of commission.
Three things my son has said to me this week:
"Spiders just make me....shudder" - He has the vocabulary of a 12 year old. I'm pretty sure he was switched at the hospital. My real kid probably can't even speak three word sentences yet.
"I really value your friendship mom" - (he's three people, the only thing normal three year olds value are cheesy poofs and dry underwear)
"My penis has legs" - (no, those are your balls)
See you guys tomorrow with the story of how I was banned for life from a casino.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
These pictures are not in order so just roll with it. When I pulled onto the street that the school was on I knew there was no way in hell my car would make it down the road. Because it was COVERED in water. I actually had to call BD to come in his truck. Meanwhile, parents are pulling up and we are all wondering how we are going to get our kids out. I called the school to see what we were supposed to do. All I got was a "uh, we aren't really sure." Great. After about a half hour the dads said screw it... they rolled up their pants and started wading through the flood water to get our children.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
1. I have been banned for life from the Isle of Capri casino in Louisiana.
2. I have tried to run from the cops on foot, and got caught because I was wearing stilettos and running on gravel.
3. I asked where the homecoming game was going to be my junior year of high school.
4. I've been slipped a roofie in a bar, then was pulled over by a cop on my way home because he thought I was drunk. Good times.
5. I used to pour half of my parents liquor out and replace it with water. They never knew the difference.
6. I have gone to bail my dad out of jail, and he didn't even recognize me as his daughter. He thought I was an attorney. That's a great feeling.
7. One time I took ecstasy in college and did a line dance with the wall. High kicks and all.
8. I bought my first house at the age of 23.
9. BB was born at home with the assistance of a midwife.
10. I have been in college for 10 consecutive years.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Note to self: don't let buster lick my face anymore.
So then yesterday I pick him up from pre-school and notice he had on his in-case-of-emergency clothes. I said, "did we have an accident today?" He twisted his little mouth and said, "yes I did." As I always do, I asked "well what happened?" He looked at me like I was a moron and matter of factly said, "I pissed my pants."
I have a feeling the teen years are going to be super.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Anyway, she used the whole "I'm very disappointed in you" line. Then she said I didn't apologize fast enough or profusely enough to her satisfaction? I don't even know what that means but I'm pretty sure it has something to do with culture. Every time she does something to piss me off I just blame it on the culture differences and move on. I save a lot of time that way.
So I pretty much just got a stern talking to, which is a lot less than I would have done to someone if they got me deported from Russia!
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
You see, I'm an assistant for a very demanding middle eastern woman. She has an incredibly busy schedule and travels most of the year. I have to plan all these trips down to the smallest detail. That might not seem hard, but when I'm planning a trip that has 15 legs to it and visas for 4 different countries (I shit you not, that happened last month), it can get a bit confusing.
It all started last week when she decided she needed to go to Russia...very last minute, as always. I'm known for being able to get a visa for any country in superhuman time. What they don't know is that I have connections and am not above bribing people with food :)
So I sent in her application and had her Russian visa in my hands in three days. That is almost unheard of because it usually takes 4 weeks. I was very proud of myself for getting it all together in such a hurry. Fast forward to Saturday. I get a text message from her saying this - "I'm being deported from Russia, you put the wrong entry date on my visa. I have no words to describe this." You know that feeling when your stomach falls out of your ass? Yeah, that's what happened to me times ten. I was in a sheer panic. There was nothing I could do. So she was on a plane for 35 hours for nothing. Needless to say, she's a little bit pissed at me. Actually she's avoiding me like the plague, which is almost worse than being yelled at.
So far I haven't been fired. And people are assuring me that it isn't the first time it's happened. We'll see.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
I know I called you a lazy bitch, and for that, I apologize. I honestly didn't think you would hear me, since your down there being dormant and all, not doing your job....or so I thought. You should have seen the look on my face when the nurse rolled the ultrasound wand over you today and counted TWENTY FOUR fucking eggs. What am I, a gumball machine? One, maybe even two would have been nice, but noooo, you had to prove your point. I get it, you aren't lazy. Now can you back the hell off the egg production? I will not be the next octo-mom! If I have to cancel this cycle because you were offended by the lazy bitch comment, there will be hell to pay, right ovary. I would sleep with one eye open if I were you, over achiever.
Your sore and very bloated host body
We had a bit of luck with this cycle. The dr asked if we would like to be in a study. After he explained that study = save a shit-ton of money, we enthusiastically agreed. I left the office with $6,000 worth of fertility drugs in a bag, praying to God I wouldn't get robbed by a crazy infertile that had been staking the clinic out.
I've been giving myself shots in the belly for 7 days now. Tonight I start the study drug, so that means I'll get two shots in the belly every night. BD was doing it but I finally worked up the nerve to do it myself. And frankly, it hurts a hell of a lot less when I do it. He held the needle like it was the shower scene in Psycho. Side note - I hope the study drug doesn't make me grow a third boob or something.
I go every couple of days for an ultrasound and bloodwork - at $300 a pop. My left ovary is producing some nice follicles, whereas my right ovary is just plain fucking lazy. (I don't even know why I give that bitch a place to stay anymore.) When my follicles get big enough I will take yet another shot to make me ovulate, and then we will do intra-uterine insemination with BD's best swimmers. He doesn't even have to be present when the doctor knocks me up. He romances the cup, I keep it warm in my cleavage until I get to the office, and then the doctor inseminates me. Your totally jealous aren't you?
So send me some good positive we-totally-hope-the-dr-gets-you-pregnant thoughts!!
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Example numero uno - our junior year we were getting ready for our upcoming homecoming. I always made sure to arrange transportation before hand so I wasn't stranded at the game. So in casual conversation at lunch, surrounded by my closest friends, I asked what seemed to be a perfectly logical question. "Where is the homecoming game going to be?" Blank stares. "I need to figure out if I'm going to drive or not, is it here or away?" Blank stares followed by hysterical laughter. BFF stops laughing long enough to say "I'm pretty sure the HOMECOMING game is going to be at HOME this year." I was so embarrassed and have yet to live that down, 11 years later. At the pep rally one of the guys got on the microphone and said "Sassy Pants, I just wanted to remind you that our game is at HOME tonight." Awesome.
Example #2 - My senior year of high school my dad checked my oil and told me I needed to put a couple of quarts in my car because it was low. No problem. I go down to Auto Zone, buy my little quarts of oil, and head back to my house. I pop open the hood, and pull the dipstick out, just as I had seen my dad do earlier that day. Then I see a slight problem. The hole I just pulled the dipstick out of isn't very big at all. How the hell am I supposed to get this oil in there? There must be some kind of special funnel. After searching for this tiny funnel I go to my mom for help. Here's the best part. My mom helped me fashion a tiny funnel to get the oil into the dipstick hole. We later found out when my dad got home and heard about our troubles, that the much larger hole, with a cap on it that says OIL is actually where the oil is supposed to go.
Example #3 - This is my most recent space cadet moment. BFF's daughter had her sixth birthday party this weekend. We get to their house and I set our gift on the table. I picked out a really cute pink and green flowery bag from target. As I'm setting the gift down, I notice someone else has the same bag. I looked at her and said, "looks like we both went to target, hope we didn't get the same thing!" Fast forward a couple of hours to gift opening time. The children are sitting on the floor anxiously awaiting the opening of each gift. Then she gets to the pink and green flowery bag and starts opening. Plaid shorts..."crap" I whispered...white t-shirt..."you have got to be kidding me"....hannah montana shirt...."COME ON, I can't believe we got the exact same gift!" BFF finally looks at me and says in a very calm voice, "this is your gift." And so the legacy continues.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Here are some pics from the trip...
Best part of the trip right here. It was called the chocolate sleigh ride. Me, BB, and my sister in law rode out to a tent in the woods and made smores and drank hot chocolate. That's my kind of vacation.
It wasn't yellow, I checked.
He was almost to the front door when we found him. Going to ski in his jammies I suppose.