tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55379906823721546502024-03-13T04:08:41.528-05:00Sassy Pants MommySassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.comBlogger125125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-82678263224405306702011-10-10T16:38:00.002-05:002011-10-10T16:53:32.470-05:00Road TripWe recently took the kids to Great Wolf Lodge in Grapevine, TX. It was a super fun time for all. Being on the road for 4 hours with two little ones, plus moi, equals a texas sized headache for big daddy!<br /><br />Here are a few nuggets of conversations from that little trip...<br /><br />Me - "I really have to pee"<br />BD - "then perhaps you should stop inhaling the pinot"<br />Me - "I'm on vacation. Plus you really need to stop, you know I have a weak bladder!! **nods head conspiratorily toward the back seat and whispers** Just look how big their heads are! They did a lot of damage I'm telling you!"<br />BD - "You're gonna have to use the cup"<br />Me - *GASP* "This is my WINE CUP. It would be seriously trashy to drink straight from the bottle. We're not in college anymore!"<br />Him - "..." (probably wondering why he married me in the first place)<br /><br />Later that evening....<br /><br />I had just done the mom thing and cleaned the kids faces and hands with my handy dandy econo pack of wet wipes before we ate our super yummy DQ fast food. Blech. <br /><br />Him - "what's that smell?"<br />Me - "I just cleaned the kids faces and hands"<br />Him - "with what, a gallon of clorox?"<br />Me - *checking package* "No, they're wet wi.....MOTHERFUCKER! This is an econo pack of CLOROX WIPES!!"<br />Him - "maybe you should've stopped at 4 glasses of wine"<br />Me - "maybe you should shut the fuck up and eat your damn hunger buster!"<br /><br />I fail at parenting.Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-49358260798913375342010-11-08T08:23:00.003-06:002010-11-08T08:47:19.490-06:00Batshit Crazy, Party of One<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia42sLmyTKAxAdsrSMXEWJUZKHQnReB4fuZtxokH9BXSMnCBRbxh3gEHVXJdavzPMnyqkwA4kj1_ciPqPs0wF5Wx3h6XErZYwLvfzhpD-APa0UtWr7ETSlmY7RKDXCOaphvUzmALW6HH8/s1600/straight_jacket_250x251.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 251px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537190267289455122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia42sLmyTKAxAdsrSMXEWJUZKHQnReB4fuZtxokH9BXSMnCBRbxh3gEHVXJdavzPMnyqkwA4kj1_ciPqPs0wF5Wx3h6XErZYwLvfzhpD-APa0UtWr7ETSlmY7RKDXCOaphvUzmALW6HH8/s320/straight_jacket_250x251.jpg" /></a><br /><div>When you work in a hospital you, obviously, deal with the public. You are bound to run across a few crazies when you are in my line of work. On my last shift I had one particular crazy that has stood out among the others. </div><br /><div></div><div>When trying to insert an IV, because he had pulled out the last one, he proceeded to show me which way I should twist his arm and which vein I should use because "that's the one I use to shoot up my drugs." Allllrighty then. The conversation went a little something like this....</div><div></div><br /><div>"Sir, I'm going to need you to sit still while I put in this IV"</div><div></div><br /><div>"LOOK! Twist the skin like this here, that way you can reach this big vein over here!"</div><div></div><br /><div>"It looks like this vein over here is a better choice"</div><br /><div></div><div>After several attempts and misses because of him jerking his arm away, he then tries to snatch the needle out of my hand. </div><div></div><br /><div>"Give me that goddamn needle and I'll show you how to do it! I've done this going 90 down the freeway!"</div><div></div><br /><div>To which I reply, "SLOW YOUR ROLL DUDE!" I figure speaking in his language is my best bet at this point. I'm also thinking if this motherfucker stabs me with his hepatitis c infected needle I'm going to judo chop his adam's apple.</div><br /><div></div><div>I finally got someone else to do it because he was pissing me off and I wasn't in the mood to contract a disease that day.</div><div></div><br /><div>Later that night, he called 911.</div><div></div><br /><div>From his hospital room.</div><div></div><br /><div>He claimed I was trying to kill him by withholding pain medication. Medication that wasn't due for another two hours. But I guess when you shoot up meth every day, morphine doesn't really do it for you anymore.</div><br /><div></div><div>He asked me to give them the address. Seriously. The kicker though? They sent an ambulance. Where the fuck he thought they were going to take him was beyond me. Two floors down to the ER? </div><div></div><br /><div>The straw that broke the camels back though was when I went in to give him his meds and he was but ass naked yanking on his weiner. He then proceeded to ask me how he was supposed to jack off with a catheter in. Cue me rolling my eyes and walking the fuck out to get a psych consult.</div>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-63844778040000526632010-11-04T14:52:00.002-05:002010-11-04T14:55:02.178-05:00We will never be invited to another pool party.......because big daddy came out wearing this.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQKyw8tUzUqfuGEK8FW0UOh8eHW_yd6uk0SKVEnMUd32sEKt6o7N3Ea2522QRCPTb3-yOvJyppX3sDG8Kyb9EBflZ40MEBXOH034YoNeHnowNxmfJFW0ZeV3py3xEqkgO8Ei8_-GynInE/s1600/untitled.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535785297940484722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQKyw8tUzUqfuGEK8FW0UOh8eHW_yd6uk0SKVEnMUd32sEKt6o7N3Ea2522QRCPTb3-yOvJyppX3sDG8Kyb9EBflZ40MEBXOH034YoNeHnowNxmfJFW0ZeV3py3xEqkgO8Ei8_-GynInE/s320/untitled.bmp" /></a><br /><div></div>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-6760482462172446932010-10-29T08:07:00.002-05:002010-10-29T08:20:51.194-05:00And that's how it happenedSo, I know you've all been patiently waiting by your computers to hear the sad tale of how I landed my first nursing job. (Psh, who am I kidding? I clearly lost all my followers during my 6 month haiatus) I digress....<br /><br />I saw an ad in the paper for a job fair at one of the amazing hospitals near my home. I wanted to work there from the time I was in nursing school. I was due to return back to satan's lair from maternity leave and this was pretty much my last ditch effort to get a job in my field. It had been 9 looong months of looking and I was ready to give up and resign myself to being an overeducated office peon for the rest of my life.<br /><br />So I get my little resume and go to the job fair. I sit and wait patiently while covertly scrutinizing the competition. Finally my name was called. She asked to see my resume. She looks over it, nodding her head and pursing her lips like she just ate a lemon from the garbage.<br /><br />I'm teetering nervously on the edge of my seat hoping beyond hope that she's impressed. She looks up and fans my resume at me and says "You have no experience." It was a statement, not a question.<br /><br />So I begin to explain how no, I don't have experience because I can't find a motherfucking job. Maybe not in so many words. She then proceeds to give me the whole "you should apply for an internship" bullshit. Let me just tell you about internships. There are like 2 spots per hospital per year. I've applied to like a bajillion internships. They are pretty much impossible to get.<br /><br />Lemon face got up from her seat and moved on to her next victim, effectively dismissing me.<br /><br />I, being the emotional bitch that I am, go to the bathroom and cry for a good ten minutes. I cry for all the hard work I did, I cry for all the money I spent, and I cry because I'm starting to realize that hospitals are just like corporate america.<br /><br />I clean my face up as best I can and open the door and literally run into a woman. She puts her arm around me and asks if I'm okay. I ask her if it's true that I will never get a job unless I get one of the coveted internships. I'm trying to hold snot and tears at back during this whole schpiel.<br /><br />She purses her lips and thinks for a minute. (What is with all the fucking lip pursing around this place?) She quietly whispers back and forth with another lip purser in the corner, comes back and says she'd like to interview me.<br /><br />Then I charmed the pants off of her and the rest is history. Moral of the story....don't think I'm ever above crying to get a job.Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-3613525093289771072010-10-22T15:29:00.005-05:002010-10-22T15:36:28.258-05:00So apparently I'm a big fat liar.Okay, so I know I promised all of you that I would not stay gone for another 6 months. Apparently I'm a liar. I wouldn't trust anything I say.<br /><br />What has kept me away from you guys, you ask? Well why don't I show you?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufNoSPeYSTzoYeF0KGlH3qw-Q055ZZ_yrcc_Hddzm8GSD02igyk4kT5eOclZw1Pq0QwpbpHtQ0fwnlFPBmY_YcgpCfLiwr8H0abThDmVvOHh92EHWQEhpAdtZFjT1lAV54GBXG2g9riE/s1600/IMG_1584.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530970769896209442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufNoSPeYSTzoYeF0KGlH3qw-Q055ZZ_yrcc_Hddzm8GSD02igyk4kT5eOclZw1Pq0QwpbpHtQ0fwnlFPBmY_YcgpCfLiwr8H0abThDmVvOHh92EHWQEhpAdtZFjT1lAV54GBXG2g9riE/s320/IMG_1584.JPG" /></a> Isn't the the cutest smooshiest faced baby you've ever seen? (Except for your own, of course.) Yes, he was born. Yes he is amazing. Yes my chach still hurts when I think about pushing that 9 pounds of precious out.<br /><br />You know what I forgot though? How much babies suck ass the first couple of months. Hellloooo post partum depression! Nice to see you again, it had been 5 long years! Glad your ass is gone now too.<br /><br />Seriously, it was like at the three month mark he became a different child. Now he's actually pretty fun. He even smiles at me. **cue melting heart**.<br /><br />I also got a job as a nurse! FINALLY. OMG that whole "you'll have a job by the time you graduate" was bullshit. It took me nine very long months to find one. And the way I landed a job is actually pretty hysterical and/or extremely embarrassing. However you want to look at it. That is a story for another day. I promise I will tell soon though.<br /><br />Just wanted to write a quick post to let you guys know....I'M BACK BITCHES!!!Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-2852421538243831552010-05-11T09:10:00.005-05:002010-05-11T09:35:36.379-05:00I think my 4 year old is onto me....The other day I was driving home with baby boy in the backseat. We were giggling and acting silly, as usual. Then he says, "whatever, sassy pants!" I was like WHA?! No one has ever referred to me as Sassy Pants, except in my safe haven of bloggy land. The only logical explanation is that he is so onto me and my super secret blog! He probably reads my blog every morning while sipping his latte and discussing the national debt crisis with his classmates. I knew that damn pre-school was too hoity toity. Teaching kids to use computers and shit. When I was 4 I was making mud pies and trying to survive on fudge rounds and kool aid. Granted, my son and I have had very different childhoods, but that's neither here nor there.<br /><br />(OMG - side note, I just heard a co-worker say "movers in the house...holla atcha girl"...I shit you not. Hi, were totally professional and work at the worlds largest oil company.) moving right along....<br /><br />So now I have a problem. What if he tries to blackmail me? What if he's all..."mom, 3 more cookies and I'll keep your little secret. For now." I can't handle that kind of stress. Maybe I should have sent him to that pre-school that was $20 a week, and the playground consisted of a rope and an old tractor tire. Nooo, I had to choose the one that was "safe" and "clean" and where the teachers are "educated" and tuition costs more than my mortgage every month.<br /><br />Just look at this face...looks like he's just waiting for the right opportunity to pounce with this new information. Little deviant.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo84JESW55_gT24q1uhwn2-m_HUgnXFLi631R0mMhGuejPaUxywoBfjSYmmuL6_u6zAWx0qx5RwP6USo5Ozio1Kl2vAKHC0xQy2MMNYbj7vKdIG4_gukn5lzDNlNFuGbYIaGIi4X98SL0/s1600/25328_381830017723_718902723_4125332_2098248_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470020094994345234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo84JESW55_gT24q1uhwn2-m_HUgnXFLi631R0mMhGuejPaUxywoBfjSYmmuL6_u6zAWx0qx5RwP6USo5Ozio1Kl2vAKHC0xQy2MMNYbj7vKdIG4_gukn5lzDNlNFuGbYIaGIi4X98SL0/s320/25328_381830017723_718902723_4125332_2098248_n.jpg" border="0" /></a>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-19507896572636232342010-04-29T13:50:00.002-05:002010-04-29T14:38:07.311-05:006 months is just unacceptableFirst, an apology. Someone should call BPS on me. You know, like CPS (child protective services), except for blogs? I can't believe I left my people hanging for SIX MONTHS. I fully expect to be tarred and feathered. I'm sorry for neglecting the blog for so long. I've been kinda busy. You know, making a human and all.<br /><br />Now that we're past all that awkwardness, what have I been up to? Well...<br /><br />*I graduated from nursing school and passed my state boards. SassyPants Mommy, RN thankyouverymuch. Although I am not working as an RN right now because I got pregnant right before graduation and clearly God has a sense of humor because I'm still stuck at this shit hole job until this kid falls out.<br /><br />*I was put on bedrest 6 weeks ago due to placenta previa. I just got taken off this week. Today is my first day back to said job. While I am happy to be among actual humans again, it seems that my hormones may be running a little rampant. Case in point:<br /><br />This morning I dropped baby boy off at preschool. I was getting him set up in the cafeteria with his breakfast. I turned to get my keys and water bottle off of the counter and it was gone. Cue crazy parched pregnancy hormones. "Who took my water?" The teachers looked at me and shrugged. "I need my water! It was right here, who took it?!" One of the teachers mentioned she saw another teacher grab it and walk to her class. Oh, hellll no. I proceeded to argue with said teacher, clearly appalled that she would so blatantly steal someones water. A pregnant woman no less! She wisely relented after a 10 minute argument and gave me back my damn water. I walked out to my car, proud of the fact that I didn't let someone take advantage of me. I set the water down in the cup holder, only to see MY water bottle already sitting there. Hi, I'm an asshole and intimidated a pre-school teacher into giving up her legitimate water bottle. Proudest moment ever.<br /><br />*I fell down my entire flight of stairs and cracked my tail bone the week after I was put on bedrest. No one ever accused me of being graceful. And having to take a pillow to a restaurant was super fun and not embarrassing at all.<br /><br />*I am currently 32 weeks pregnant. That sounds like a lot, until you realize I have 8 weeks to go until my due date. 8 WEEKS. Do you know how long that is? Foreeeeevvvveeeeerrrrr.<br /><br />*While I am happy and blessed that we are finally having another child, I can't help but say....this pregnancy has SUCKED BALLS. Heartburn that rivals that of the recent volcano eruption? Check! Displaced pelvis? Check! 36H boobs that leak at the most inopportune times? Check! Cracked tailbone? Check! Back pain from carrying around said boobs and linebacker fetus? Check! Peeing every 5 fucking minutes? Check! More proof that God has a sense of humor? Making the uterus rest on top of the bladder. HAHA big guy. HAHA.<br /><br />In regards to peeing, sometimes I wonder if it's even worth my time getting off the couch to go to the bathroom while I contemplate exactly how absorbent this pad that I'm wearing is. That's what it's come to people. I've also developed quite a talent for picking things up with my toes. And also, did you know that a can of Pringles does NOT equal a serving? I know, I was shocked too!<br /><br />Also, I've been on "pelvic rest" (read: no sex) for like 8 weeks now. I'm pretty sure I've developed a horrible case of TMJ and will need to have jaw therapy when all is said and done.<br />I guess that's all for now. I have to pee. Again. I will leave you with this...<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQf6UAaFG4kq9PrMEzdSY5MZP7OUymPzxLq-thUvS7z90HpIpw70Ge81eyO_Ru2e8sFBe3gn-gKTF8A-oWk-KZrSnyQaRRwTvxiwZVfrA51r7Yhd4L9kdM8bvlsz1hrpEzWv68wxaCw_0/s1600/20554_269777792723_718902723_3542118_4451509_n.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465645664423881154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQf6UAaFG4kq9PrMEzdSY5MZP7OUymPzxLq-thUvS7z90HpIpw70Ge81eyO_Ru2e8sFBe3gn-gKTF8A-oWk-KZrSnyQaRRwTvxiwZVfrA51r7Yhd4L9kdM8bvlsz1hrpEzWv68wxaCw_0/s400/20554_269777792723_718902723_3542118_4451509_n.jpg" border="0" /></a>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-17033223049292303292009-10-28T15:01:00.002-05:002009-10-28T15:23:02.420-05:00Boobs for sale, real cheapHooo leeee shit. My boobs hurt so bad. Like so, so incredibly bad I can't even put into words how bad they hurt. I did not have this issue when I was pregnant with my sweet little baby boy. I threw up every 30 minutes 24 hours a day, but I did not have this. I don't know how to deal with this. I figure selling them is the best option I've got at this point. They are so big that I was laying on my side last night and BD rolled over on to one. Like ON IT. I woke up out of a dead sleep and squeeled. I had to get him to move so I could un-wedge my boob from between his back and the mattress. <br /><br />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 - <strong>I will cut you</strong>!" 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. <br /><br />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 <strong>YOU</strong> 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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-32437730555618294052009-10-23T10:24:00.006-05:002009-10-23T10:54:58.268-05:00I am so KreativHa! I got tagged again bitches! Take that, mediocre blogs! (It still counts if my bff gives me the award, right? Cuz that kind of feels like cheating.) Anyhow, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.everybodysworkingfortheweekend.blogspot.com">Amber</a>...aka BFF, gave me the Kreativ Blogger award. Even though she would like to change it to "Creative Blogger", because she is a grammar nazi. But that's neither here nor there.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4D_trSUeZkyLGnA8MqFhQ26nBE0XElkWBdxSE4m31rI36FrftTXKJujBu5GcsmrIfqXVvcg996LaS8ibnE4uh8UKp50OlfmdKToIcru_Z-R8sU7SScqigdsjSgUv9AqbOSeEZQB2eB4/s1600-h/Kreativ%20Blogger%20typer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395817120153086930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 398px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4D_trSUeZkyLGnA8MqFhQ26nBE0XElkWBdxSE4m31rI36FrftTXKJujBu5GcsmrIfqXVvcg996LaS8ibnE4uh8UKp50OlfmdKToIcru_Z-R8sU7SScqigdsjSgUv9AqbOSeEZQB2eB4/s400/Kreativ%2520Blogger%2520typer.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twin-to-twin_transfusion_syndrome">twin to twin transfusion syndrome </a>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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <em>asking</em> for me to damage his brain. Munchausen by proxy, anyone?<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />There are my 7 things. I will tag people later. I'm getting hungry.Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-27087928538846822742009-10-20T08:19:00.005-05:002009-10-20T08:35:51.477-05:00I'm Over the Top!<div align="center">I was given this award by Lisa over at <a href="http://lisacarrieson.blogspot.com/">Lisa Carries On</a>...Thanks for thinking of me!</div><p><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzFwIRwJmP8vJbi1kq9uioznNl7dfuDItS9LRQT5kLDDfr1YRkz2kUcK5-QMTy0gP7aJh6CXQHoP9nUeUR2eBR5rvYN8NWktQE9zUrOoVsOjLQTDqPAC7JRuCg9DQfIHGIKuVErakixLw/s1600-h/Over+the+top+award.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394671896195783682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 156px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 149px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzFwIRwJmP8vJbi1kq9uioznNl7dfuDItS9LRQT5kLDDfr1YRkz2kUcK5-QMTy0gP7aJh6CXQHoP9nUeUR2eBR5rvYN8NWktQE9zUrOoVsOjLQTDqPAC7JRuCg9DQfIHGIKuVErakixLw/s400/Over+the+top+award.png" border="0" /></a><br />Here are the rules for the Over The Top Award:<br /><br />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.<br />Tag 6 other bloggers and let them know that you think they are 'Over the Top'!<br /><br /><br /><br />1. Where is your cell phone? desk<br />2.Your hair? up<br />3. Your mother? nurturing<br />4. Your father? deceased<br />5. Your favorite food? southern<br />6. Your dream last night? scary<br />7. Your favorite drink? wine<br />8. Your dream/goal? midwife<br />9. What room are you in? office<br />10. Your hobby? cooking<br />11. Your fear? clowns<br />12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? respected<br />13. Where were you last night? restaurant<br />14. Something that you aren’t? shy<br />15. Muffins? chocolate<br />16. Wish list item? laminate<br />17. Where did you grow up? Orange<br />18. Last thing you did? coffee<br />19. What are you wearing? slacks<br />20. Your TV? big<br />21. Your pets? old<br />22. Friends? cherished<br />23. Your life? crazy<br />24. Your mood? thrilled<br />25. Missing someone? always<br />26. Vehicle? SUV<br />27. Something you’re not wearing? shoes<br />28. Your favorite store? Target<br />29. Your favorite color? red<br />30. When was the last time you laughed? yesterday<br />31. Last time you cried? saturday<br />32. Your best friend? Amber<br />33. One place that I go to over and over? work<br />34. One person who emails me regularly? honey<br />35. Favorite place to eat? lupe's<br /><br /><br /><br />1. Amber at <a href="http://everybodysworkingfortheweekend.blogspot.com/">Everybody's Working for the Weekend</a><br /><br />2. Candice at <a href="http://candiceandco.blogspot.com/">Life According to Candice</a><br /><br />3. Crystal at <a href="http://sexylovepits.blogspot.com/">It's Not Me, It's You</a><br /><br />4. SamsMama at <a href="http://raisingstink.blogspot.com/">Raising Stink</a><br /><br />5. Erin Jeannine at <a href="http://crazyparrotlady.blogspot.com/">You Should Learn One New Thing Every Day</a> </p><p>6. <a href="http://calicobebop.blogspot.com/">CalicoBebop</a></p>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-45082429804561223142009-10-19T15:15:00.001-05:002009-10-19T15:17:14.052-05:00I Have a Secret....38 very long months, thousands of dollars, tears, tests, and procedures later...I got this Saturday.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7cqQLzt3pr6Mk-xkRrf6ppXze9a8OV3avCyQiK9x9CZKDDoCZAFZOKWUdjn2GXQ4dsGlPT6dmmLTxzrmNVbmfaqiPbIy7VzcZVG4xPR9Pv154k5TandvlkFHDKQwi7w6CIz3y1vQ890/s1600-h/pregnant.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394407366095391906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 360px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7cqQLzt3pr6Mk-xkRrf6ppXze9a8OV3avCyQiK9x9CZKDDoCZAFZOKWUdjn2GXQ4dsGlPT6dmmLTxzrmNVbmfaqiPbIy7VzcZVG4xPR9Pv154k5TandvlkFHDKQwi7w6CIz3y1vQ890/s400/pregnant.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-39641257810406623282009-10-07T15:33:00.001-05:002009-10-07T15:35:26.222-05:00Quote of the dayWere going to dinner at sister in law's tonight for mother in law's bday. You remember SIL, right? She had the beautiful twin boys? Anyhoo, the twins are now two months old and quite the handful from what she tells me. So I emailed her to see if I needed to bring anything tonight...her reply - <em>"alcohol and ear plugs"</em>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-54351387792985302162009-10-07T12:12:00.003-05:002009-10-07T12:22:44.011-05:00I don't even have to write this post.I'm sure you have read by now about big daddy's bday party <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.everybodysworkingfortheweekend.blogspot.com">here </a>and <a href="http://www.sexylovepits.blogspot.com/">here</a>. Two of my favorite bloggy buddies were there. You can read about the party on their blog, but you can only see the pictures on this one :)<br /><br /><div align="center">BFF and Big Daddy...I don't think he was aware that they were posing</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMY_RMk3CLfZb_g1JeRrIFD3tsHlfm_IOvuHY5LxmxW72lMJZsqIcUw0FqGvzWd3M-pLwaz3N0xptvZ9wuRwYAwJwTC4UyETWHiXAHDmPpZM8gB5c2lRZ-cg1wpeugt9aMNBTGUugJHE/s1600-h/IMG_0880.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389907890334198514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMY_RMk3CLfZb_g1JeRrIFD3tsHlfm_IOvuHY5LxmxW72lMJZsqIcUw0FqGvzWd3M-pLwaz3N0xptvZ9wuRwYAwJwTC4UyETWHiXAHDmPpZM8gB5c2lRZ-cg1wpeugt9aMNBTGUugJHE/s400/IMG_0880.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">Baby boy and Crystal, his new girlfriend. They were making "portillas"<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTa4_AZB7M-RhBRlfmRVHwlUUUgBUQDcs6Rgfe2vteKsmQxS7cjk6LBZA5OMnCBWm9U2l4xDzbp9zJUyWmJEKi5VC4alx_QCg2NBOEDBDCDNEGy81RQL0blrjI1GLRlkn3128aFp7GYyM/s1600-h/IMG_0870.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389907877110973090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTa4_AZB7M-RhBRlfmRVHwlUUUgBUQDcs6Rgfe2vteKsmQxS7cjk6LBZA5OMnCBWm9U2l4xDzbp9zJUyWmJEKi5VC4alx_QCg2NBOEDBDCDNEGy81RQL0blrjI1GLRlkn3128aFp7GYyM/s400/IMG_0870.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">Crystal, I'm pretty sure she had just said Donald Ronald McHouse instead of Ronald McDonald House. That's her fiance to the left. I think his face says it all.</div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg77hrCIPKsgvInelOkSTSgLiLZwroZf3Fi9zvcjnvB8foksJDSEJ8Tqfjy6Vvl2ysa2bMD_L1y0CXSy_bPLHJ0RDK2T2cgYwdBVE0pJOt3PwQTkpcDMC2KAx-hsC4_Wq4EN8Fbfh_uZC0/s1600-h/IMG_0866.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389907868020144514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg77hrCIPKsgvInelOkSTSgLiLZwroZf3Fi9zvcjnvB8foksJDSEJ8Tqfjy6Vvl2ysa2bMD_L1y0CXSy_bPLHJ0RDK2T2cgYwdBVE0pJOt3PwQTkpcDMC2KAx-hsC4_Wq4EN8Fbfh_uZC0/s400/IMG_0866.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />1997 called, it wants it's boone's farm back. Were nothing if not classy.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8lVwSXxKnAcODjpzAP97TGz5yKy2hwkfiWLsdSWi_NY5Bhh7HyGb_UE40MIpbKblVzHTqZcgrQMhkJC4uSwnnOtAT8ox8aY-WEWQnlbN7iCmIb5vaefFR9DCBfAkDZ38By_wLzhD7M0/s1600-h/IMG_0878.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389907883630187458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD8lVwSXxKnAcODjpzAP97TGz5yKy2hwkfiWLsdSWi_NY5Bhh7HyGb_UE40MIpbKblVzHTqZcgrQMhkJC4uSwnnOtAT8ox8aY-WEWQnlbN7iCmIb5vaefFR9DCBfAkDZ38By_wLzhD7M0/s400/IMG_0878.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-92038183674727723682009-09-18T13:24:00.001-05:002009-09-18T13:25:15.227-05:00Ghetto Chronicles: Part, um, I've really lost count by nowToday's <a href="http://everybodysworkingfortheweekend.blogspot.com/2009/09/adventures-at-lunchtime.html">ghetto chronicles </a> are brought to you by BFF. Enjoy!Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-35595978212128560702009-09-14T15:28:00.002-05:002009-09-14T15:39:55.649-05:00Bathroom Conversations Part 17Ahh the joys of marriage. Where the lines of modesty have long since vanished, and your husband tries to gross you out on purpose just for shits and giggles. Sweet, sweet marriage.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Those days are long gone now. Now his idea of foreplay is "hey you wanna bang? It helps me fall asleep."<br /><br />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:<br /><br />Me - "Oh, I guess you came in here to take a shit again, right?!" (I'm not a morning person)<br />BD - "Are you about to brush your teeth?"<br />Me - "No, I just did"<br />BD - "Then no"<br /><br />Then he grabbed the tweezers and plucked a stray hair off my nipple! WTF has happened to us?!Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-29682428698013685652009-09-11T13:37:00.003-05:002009-09-11T14:04:36.427-05:00Let's talk about pet peeves, shall we?We all have them. Some people just hide it better than others. As I sit here, listening to my co-worker swish his motherfucking tea in his mouth for oh, I don't know, the thousandth fucking time today, I thought I would ask you guys if maybe I was the only one that has a pet peeve. Am I the only one that thinks about an elaborate murder scheme when someone is making mouth noises near me. Mouth noises are my biggest.peeve.ever. I'm actually surprised I was able to marry anyone because it annoys me so bad to eat with people. Mouth noises include gum smackers, loud chewers, slurpers, burpers, and I guess I have to add fucking swishing to that list now. Who swishes their drink? WHO I ASK?!!!<br /><br />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?<br /><br />What am I thinking. He has probably been bannned from the cafeteria for his vomit inducing table manners.<br /><br />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!!<br /><br />So...what's your pet peeve?Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-87359423874650918192009-09-09T12:16:00.003-05:002009-09-09T12:32:11.852-05:00ER Clinical Part DeuxI had another ER clinical this past weekend. It was MUCH better than the last <a href="http://sassypantsmommy.blogspot.com/2009/07/and-now-my-hand-has-herpes-probably.html">fiasco</a>. I had one patient that stood out most. And by stood out I mean makes for an awesome story.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Me - "Sir, can you tell me what brough you in today?"<br />Sir - "Well my testicle began swelling last night and it hurts somethin' awful"<br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Me - "So, um, sir, has this ever happened before?"<br />Sir - "Well I had testicular cancer and had the left one removed, but not since then"<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Ahem.<br /><br />Me - "Let me go get the doctor, I really think he needs to see this"<br /><br />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.Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-89887980015813105252009-09-03T15:53:00.003-05:002009-09-03T15:56:09.716-05:00And this is why I married him....I was diagnosed with IBS when I was 12 years old. It is a huge pain in the ass and I always have to be near a bathroom....especially when I'm upset. Being nervous or anxious always triggers it and I have to high tail it to the bathroom. My husband knows this all too well.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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):<br /><br />"I can't imagine the hell your sphincter is going through right now"<br /><br />And that, my friends, is how I know I've found my soulmate.Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-61742963373187915062009-09-03T12:06:00.001-05:002009-09-03T12:08:05.977-05:00Facebook Ads<div align="center">Does anyone else see a problem with this weight loss ad?</div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIg-fg0jIHon0PvJwRqkbBkqiX66a2rBRLLNWHXGFD7sFKTzqKTuCGo4GH6xFYy3Glb8_wOtFBR_yAy0rkrDQDznhKhKxavk6JY1k9R1wlJ5evWImF-cSSW5mnGulvnrAdKPjt7gJiMsw/s1600-h/AD.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377288877092092834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 125px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIg-fg0jIHon0PvJwRqkbBkqiX66a2rBRLLNWHXGFD7sFKTzqKTuCGo4GH6xFYy3Glb8_wOtFBR_yAy0rkrDQDznhKhKxavk6JY1k9R1wlJ5evWImF-cSSW5mnGulvnrAdKPjt7gJiMsw/s400/AD.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Yeah. The before picture chick is pregnant. Douche nozzle.Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-17793969197313349012009-08-28T09:23:00.006-05:002009-08-28T09:44:38.326-05:00Things that have happened in the past three weeks...I have been so busy the past few weeks that I haven't had time to blog. I missed you guys!! Lots of stuff has happened so I thought I would sum it up with pictures :)<br /><br /><br /><div align="center">I finished level 3 of nursing. That means I'm about to start my very last semester of nursing school and will graduate in a few months!!</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lrNTF2P6HOMerLS19MRjWdEx90mUFUO7kLhvC-hgTYv-wvz9-ZejLeYH8kGNhMrIVM8ctz99vZ1cHK5qDgKhMlBJ-v4zf7MN25B5snPZJK5KCi8VewkQ8aucxWF_l7ijsojEE64Ob_E/s1600-h/nurse-pictures-3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375024649157184482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 380px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 326px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lrNTF2P6HOMerLS19MRjWdEx90mUFUO7kLhvC-hgTYv-wvz9-ZejLeYH8kGNhMrIVM8ctz99vZ1cHK5qDgKhMlBJ-v4zf7MN25B5snPZJK5KCi8VewkQ8aucxWF_l7ijsojEE64Ob_E/s400/nurse-pictures-3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div align="center">The twins came home!!!</div><br /><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUZFjkZDYwkX_0ZXGTmV0-rxFYyansUF9PYOAW3fA4v1EsJATN1AVBkHUYH0tpWauXt-rtuhd2toH-n-Vn1c4aqYNYKNDAN7LRcExbWghUXn_MtmfLsmNLuVdPJ0NnosBJiGH3HSMTJ0/s1600-h/Home.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375021930400477154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUZFjkZDYwkX_0ZXGTmV0-rxFYyansUF9PYOAW3fA4v1EsJATN1AVBkHUYH0tpWauXt-rtuhd2toH-n-Vn1c4aqYNYKNDAN7LRcExbWghUXn_MtmfLsmNLuVdPJ0NnosBJiGH3HSMTJ0/s400/Home.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div align="center">I had to have a septoplasty and sinus surgery...yuck!</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_l_h19qJH3tUtvkct8c5O6mw1e2K1ARQvJaAg0VU7zHEovpAvxXBoVr8NHX-VajO8tdX6qVL5y4HEBL_hGeRGgBFvLd4tEP5A4YHCjeHUMlPn_0RM8bz0SXEGysphwirQ-ZrrS7aG9A/s1600-h/surg.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375021931725042498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS_l_h19qJH3tUtvkct8c5O6mw1e2K1ARQvJaAg0VU7zHEovpAvxXBoVr8NHX-VajO8tdX6qVL5y4HEBL_hGeRGgBFvLd4tEP5A4YHCjeHUMlPn_0RM8bz0SXEGysphwirQ-ZrrS7aG9A/s400/surg.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div align="center">My sweet little baby boy turned 4!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQeotrGdBNBuE1mZl3augcdB78P2EWwRpkPuvLB5mI7ydwna0no33sLLSn4jRlKPXvfqcUJ63SrRgsndchI-vRQDof4ZhU6l6d8LAWooMYHED3RI1SeDxK9qewc60vnKhgZK3ckNt7Jp0/s1600-h/IMG_0696.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375020839032196898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQeotrGdBNBuE1mZl3augcdB78P2EWwRpkPuvLB5mI7ydwna0no33sLLSn4jRlKPXvfqcUJ63SrRgsndchI-vRQDof4ZhU6l6d8LAWooMYHED3RI1SeDxK9qewc60vnKhgZK3ckNt7Jp0/s400/IMG_0696.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLSeTM32YIa71_8UhbBeIykkjTA7SxTfoB-uCw-qBJ7Y8jwn8IFmna5_pyRqBWBvQLgChUJ8OFcHI4lnVpH4vPUpD9VZ-K0y1fAoePETlDVaLNTaD_Ku8e2NrW6giZkj0rVAJwi7_Eas/s1600-h/IMG_0715.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375020829428365426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLLSeTM32YIa71_8UhbBeIykkjTA7SxTfoB-uCw-qBJ7Y8jwn8IFmna5_pyRqBWBvQLgChUJ8OFcHI4lnVpH4vPUpD9VZ-K0y1fAoePETlDVaLNTaD_Ku8e2NrW6giZkj0rVAJwi7_Eas/s400/IMG_0715.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="left"><br />That's all I have time for now. I'm super busy with work, but I will definitely post more on the subjects above very soon! Happy Friday!<br /></div><div></div></div></div>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-62377006697351413032009-08-07T13:25:00.002-05:002009-08-07T13:27:15.347-05:00Did you know?I like to learn something new every day. Yesterdays lesson was that <a href="http://everybodysworkingfortheweekend.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-cannot-make-this-shit-up.html">losing limbs is not a genetic trait.</a> **<br /><br /><br /><em>**for the record I have a 3.7 GPA in nursing school. Bitches.</em>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-21984571822604361732009-08-06T12:05:00.004-05:002009-08-06T12:26:19.849-05:00Ghetto Chronicles: Part 7As most of you know I live in Houston and work in one of the most ghetto fabulous parts of town...maybe not even ghetto fabulous, just plain ghetto. Today <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">BFF</span> and I decided to go to Jack in the Box for lunch. They have this meal deal where you get a cheeseburger, taco, fries and a drink for $2.99. No that is not a typo..$2.99!! And since were cheap and apparently don't care about our ever expanding asses, that is what we did.<br /><br />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. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">BFF</span> 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.<br /><br />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 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">SUV's</span> hood and our eyes meet. I give him my best "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">WHATTHEFUCKASSHOLE</span>" look and he said, while standing in front of my CAR, "Yeah, you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">bettah</span> 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!!" <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">BFF</span> doesn't think he was homeless, but I disagree because he was carrying a bottle of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Windex</span>. Clearly if you are carrying <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Windex</span> you are using it to dive on cars at red lights to wash windshields and demand money. Because you are homeless! Take that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">BFF</span>! I digress.<br /><br />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 <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">asphalt</span>.Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-26341290232701044192009-07-24T08:58:00.006-05:002009-07-24T09:11:50.042-05:00Welcome to the world, little onesRemember me mentioning that my sister in law is <a href="http://sassypantsmommy.blogspot.com/2009/02/new-addition.html">having twins</a>? Well they had to take the babies yesterday...8 weeks early. She was developing pretty severe pre-eclampsia so her health was in danger. The c-section went very well and the babies are doing great. They will have to stay in the NICU for a while, but we expected that. I can't believe they are here, and I can't wait to spoil them! Most of all, I thank God that they are okay.<br /><br /><br /><div align="center">Auntie Sassy Pants</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56C4hvWLC5q3Qht_tDa0fOTrPqSLDyJ98ye4-QlSOe63z_kW5mBMwPmnpLncjqsbmK92DIYF4UdfJm0HhXFeqtX9UXrC6uw7J_crJDYxpEkEM5jgH4X8c9HQtZieOxRUR8j-2jB9KoVg/s1600-h/IMG_0650.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362027472605801330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj56C4hvWLC5q3Qht_tDa0fOTrPqSLDyJ98ye4-QlSOe63z_kW5mBMwPmnpLncjqsbmK92DIYF4UdfJm0HhXFeqtX9UXrC6uw7J_crJDYxpEkEM5jgH4X8c9HQtZieOxRUR8j-2jB9KoVg/s400/IMG_0650.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">Uncle Big Daddy's hand showing how small they are</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOZTELgypgZewstmRSXA7AW7VVDmZBJJCsxTmclabWDMx_oDzUgmgT67bLsdGzRrLh7BUfvcQNDHpSzEAar1aQ8O4-eUWDN6HLU1V8Qb8MfN8CFgnmTelztzjlKNNSyHDoMo00q9YHOQ0/s1600-h/IMG_0646.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362027457164933810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOZTELgypgZewstmRSXA7AW7VVDmZBJJCsxTmclabWDMx_oDzUgmgT67bLsdGzRrLh7BUfvcQNDHpSzEAar1aQ8O4-eUWDN6HLU1V8Qb8MfN8CFgnmTelztzjlKNNSyHDoMo00q9YHOQ0/s400/IMG_0646.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Sweet little foot</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSgwBJHSJGNMLr7IihagcET5Zd-ggnCzcy5FfREc7iGAioSUEfSUlzNhDMFzU065nQTywsRq-USDZ2WeJrCvaHqSk1by4pY1pPmQzr5hlxiwfmmpxfehRwny1E3qgPcNVKT3Ar2DkSJI/s1600-h/IMG_0648.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362027456365475410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNSgwBJHSJGNMLr7IihagcET5Zd-ggnCzcy5FfREc7iGAioSUEfSUlzNhDMFzU065nQTywsRq-USDZ2WeJrCvaHqSk1by4pY1pPmQzr5hlxiwfmmpxfehRwny1E3qgPcNVKT3Ar2DkSJI/s400/IMG_0648.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Tiny little hand<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_y1-OQ_6iHZ0asxNQZBUU31yhmZmHzbx4xGGD2ymJxb5aoRYj2Xwey529U39kNNAtxt5S6Am_D2LH0eI_awgD8Nhzi-92ZD9wNlu5uZr94cYqPcqvBsqniQwFuU0cuXqu1YByWEhXBMI/s1600-h/IMG_0645.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362027449039118402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_y1-OQ_6iHZ0asxNQZBUU31yhmZmHzbx4xGGD2ymJxb5aoRYj2Xwey529U39kNNAtxt5S6Am_D2LH0eI_awgD8Nhzi-92ZD9wNlu5uZr94cYqPcqvBsqniQwFuU0cuXqu1YByWEhXBMI/s400/IMG_0645.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Introducing.....<br /><div></div><br /><div align="center">Cameron Anthony</div><div align="center">July 23, 12:33pm</div><div align="center">2 lbs, 11 oz</div><div align="center">15 3/4" long</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6VGRbdVHLpcaxdFiXA9u32Ak8RlzKDMWn72BbjJ-Sq0SDHog1xK7YU1TrlAm7L8drl1XCfwA5Vp203x_8SMlDr6UQ70BbIJRGIIR-2m4cP3eVfRosDihq0Z9G5koloTvV6h_947VquRk/s1600-h/IMG_0644.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362026347918436034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6VGRbdVHLpcaxdFiXA9u32Ak8RlzKDMWn72BbjJ-Sq0SDHog1xK7YU1TrlAm7L8drl1XCfwA5Vp203x_8SMlDr6UQ70BbIJRGIIR-2m4cP3eVfRosDihq0Z9G5koloTvV6h_947VquRk/s400/IMG_0644.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><br /><div align="center">Tristan William (the womb hog)</div><div align="center">July 23, 12:32 pm</div><div align="center">3 lbs, 10 oz</div><div align="center">16 1/2" long</div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhveRnS5pdUAxzz58fcyLK1imvvTZTAyRMesMI0r77KZDvOhrbgE0wdm6xGhgfU5d-89OYB5LLtKP_uywlAYex5Aw_Hv_ZnIkvILtAbuGQtSdrWb59vFbUe4Z3ERcHdxMVlyKqCvkU5gkQ/s1600-h/IMG_0643.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362026342758500242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhveRnS5pdUAxzz58fcyLK1imvvTZTAyRMesMI0r77KZDvOhrbgE0wdm6xGhgfU5d-89OYB5LLtKP_uywlAYex5Aw_Hv_ZnIkvILtAbuGQtSdrWb59vFbUe4Z3ERcHdxMVlyKqCvkU5gkQ/s400/IMG_0643.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div></div>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-49764967165983382182009-07-22T08:00:00.000-05:002009-07-22T08:01:53.629-05:00Wordless Wednesday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTGPVPv8DK8BFRwaa9v4D1RoNTmePnxDyWeccNX7d7SUL7eRQqPKhh-3yjBylsaJfDrVfm_Wki0RInDfKs2YXG_gNceS8dt2rf_qr4N3grqx8Ool3GL1X_c61Q-mClRCqchc-H-ky2fQ/s1600-h/IMG_0602.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361268866336570786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTGPVPv8DK8BFRwaa9v4D1RoNTmePnxDyWeccNX7d7SUL7eRQqPKhh-3yjBylsaJfDrVfm_Wki0RInDfKs2YXG_gNceS8dt2rf_qr4N3grqx8Ool3GL1X_c61Q-mClRCqchc-H-ky2fQ/s400/IMG_0602.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />A chunk o' weave. In the elevator at work. No idea how it got there.<br /><div></div>Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537990682372154650.post-49219948703856367472009-07-21T15:51:00.010-05:002009-07-21T16:05:17.496-05:00Lush, much?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWcOxw-d95Kzrm9AfXmTsJUUC9sTyAqUJB2iD7tWPJFNHsmc7O5pRmhef-T1ginzbjBnx13B-MX0kwoWqfY8ApHyZIP8hms3tD0xcElRrKeNZdgoSU6yVHICviqCpbq_QhIHJmFy5d1bM/s1600-h/red_wine.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361021404328831074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 154px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWcOxw-d95Kzrm9AfXmTsJUUC9sTyAqUJB2iD7tWPJFNHsmc7O5pRmhef-T1ginzbjBnx13B-MX0kwoWqfY8ApHyZIP8hms3tD0xcElRrKeNZdgoSU6yVHICviqCpbq_QhIHJmFy5d1bM/s200/red_wine.jpg" border="0" /></a> Actual email conversation that took place between Big Daddy and I today.<br /><br />BD - I was going to run by the store on my way home to get laundry detergent and milk. need anything else?<br /><br />Me - Not that I can think of. I need some face moisturizer but you may not want to get that.<br />Oh wait!!! WINE...I'M OUT OF WINE!!!! Screw the moisturizer...I'll rub wine on my face.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Sometimes I even shock myself.<br /><br /><br />Oh, and btw, remember the illness that I've been complaining about <a href="http://sassypantsmommy.blogspot.com/2009/06/holy-blog-neglect-batman.html">non-freaking-stop </a>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.Sassy Pantshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08176934074469556194noreply@blogger.com3