I'll Never Do That Again

It is surprisingly difficult to come up with 1 thing each day that you want, especially when everything you want can be solved with only one wish, on one day - lots of money!

So, I thought that maybe I would do this again next year. Unlikely! I will keep to my normal sporadic posts, and maybe instead of 1 a day I will just accumulate one list and get it all off my chest in one post.

I hope everyone's Christmas was wonderful and you got everything that you asked for.

The next holiday on our list, New Years! Yup, the biggest drinking holiday of the year (don't we say that about every holiday?).

What's your New Years Resolution?

All I Want For Christmas - Day 25

Welcome to the final edition of All I Want for Christmas.

Today all I want for Christmas is:


To be with my family.

I hope you all have a wonderful and happy Christmas!

Christie's Wish List:

All I Want For Christmas - Day 14

Now, I am going to get into some selfish, vein, and stereotypical stuff.

Last night, Lover and I went on a hunt for ice cream! We decided that A&W was going to be the best we get. Yumm, right? One better our A&W is an A&W AND a KFC, double yumm!

We pull up in the drive-thru, because like I was going to put on a bra to go inside at 10 at night! I knew EXACTLY what I wanted!

"Can I have the biggest root beer float you have, please?"

The voice spat back at me, "I'm sorry we no longer sell A&W products."

Me, "WHAT!?"

Lover, "Huh? Oh it's all changed!" points to the menu.

Me: "HUH? Ugh! What the fuck?"

Lover to the speaker lady, "Do you know where other A&W's are?"

The Bitch spat back out, "They're all on the west side. 75th ave and Dunlap or Thunderbird."

WOW! Like I am going to drive all the way over there!!!! That would be like a 60 minute drive for some ice cream! Ugh! we ended up going to Safeway and getting ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, and nuts. I had a BIG bowl.

This morning I didn't feel do hot! I felt ROUND and blubbery, and like I needed to lay off food for a month. Leading me to the 14th item on my wish list...

All I want for Christmas is...

To loose 20 pounds!

Christie's Wish List:

1. Paid off furniture.
2. My dream home.
3. A nap.
4. My hair done.
5. The new PostSecret book/go to the event.
6. Laser hair removal.
7. A milkshake.
8. Work Out.
9. No student loans.
10. A massage.
11. My nephew.

12. Get caught up.
13. Motivation.

14. Loose 20 pounds

All I Want For Christmas - Day 13

Just over a week ago I started another course on the journey to obtaining my MBA. With each class I am reminded of how UNmotivated I am to actually go to school. In fact, the only motivating me to continue my education and get an MBA is:

1. I can't afford to pay back my student loans, just yet.

2. The job market sucks and everyone is wanting an masters, not a bachelors! BOO!

BUT... I still can't afford to pay back my student loans, so I have no choice BUT to continue with school.... So for the 13th item on my wish list...

All I want for Christmas is...

Motivation for this class and all coming classes!

Christie's Wish List:
1. Paid off furniture.

2. My dream home.

3. A nap.

4. My hair done.

5. The new PostSecret book/go to the event.

6. Laser hair removal.

7. A milkshake.

8. Work Out.

9. No student loans.

10. A massage.

11. My nephew.
12. Get caught up.

13. Motivation.

All I Want For Christmas - Day 12

YIKES! I let myself get far behind!

I guess it has been a busy week and I've had lots of things to do and get caught up on. SO! I guess that leads me to #12 on my wish list.

All I want for Christmas is...

To get caught up!

Christie's Wish List:

1. Paid off furniture.
2. My dream home.
3. A nap.
4. My hair done.
5. The new PostSecret book/go to the event.
6. Laser hair removal.
7. A milkshake.
8. Work Out.
9. No student loans.10. A massage.
11. My nephew.

12. Get caught up.

You can't be in the club anymore!

We interrupt this Christmas Blog for one of my tangents....

Remember back in the day when you and your friends started "secret club." The kind that met on Sunday afternoons when all the Mom's gathered for their weekly book club meeting to talk about the latest book. Only, now that you are able to read and you remember the sounds they made your questioning whether or not they were talking about a book or sex.

I bet you remember the exact Princess Barbie sheet you draped over your dresser and bed to make little fort and the exact color of gel pen you used to make the "NO BOYS ALLOWED" sign that you pinned to the Princess Barbie sheet with scotch tape, because you weren't trusted with anything else.

Remember when Becky promised she would bring cookies for everyone, and you could already feel the gooey deliciousness in your mouth, only to find that Becky didn't come to the meeting, which inadvertently left you with Sarah's crummy crackers and cheese? So, you being the leader of the group decided that Becky was kicked out of the club.

OH Ooorr! Do you remember when everyone took a task to do to help the club get better. Sarah had to bring stuffed animals to guard the fort, you had to type up the club rules (because only a REAL club had rules), and Jessica was assigned to bringing extra sheets to expand the fort in the hallway? Yea! I bet you also remember when Sarah forgot to bring the guard animals and how upset you were and that you also KICKED HER OUT OF THE CLUB!

This is a classic example of the "You hurt my feelings, so now I am going to hurt yours MORE" attitude. I thought everyone moved past this in 6th grade. Apparently, we didn't, and apparently it is following us all the way through the completion of our MBA.

The degree program I am completing requires team assignments (luckily it's the same team throughout the class). Generally, teams handle the assignment by splitting up the work, submitting it on a early date, and one person compiles it all, edits it and turns it in. It's a full proof method to an A. However, sometimes shit happens, it's inevitable and the person who SAID they wold write 300 words on cow dung, backed out and now the rest of the team has to figure out what to do next. Welcome to the real world!

What I am about to tell you happens often, and my often I mean there is always someone from one team your brings it up or suggests it.

One team member suggests that in the event someone does not complete the work he or she was assigned/volunteered to do, then he or she's name will be removed from the assignment.

Fair, right? It sounds fair. If Jane didn't do the work, why should she get credit? I'll tell you why...

BECAUSE SHE IS IN THE TEAM TOO!!!

Now, let us take out the obvious excuses as to why Jane didn't so the homework: She didn't pay her internet bill, so she couldn't submit the work? Her dog ate it? She dropped her cell phone in the toilet at the bar and hadn't gotten around to getting a new one, so there was no way she could call to tell you what happened? Wait, that was me. Anyway, now that we have all the bull shit excuses out of the way let's focus of those that have merit.

My grandma died. Some of you might be thinking that this is not really a good excuse. Well, I am close to my grandmother and if she did die, I would want some time to grieve. And I can guarantee that the LAST thing I am going to be doing is writing about cow dung OR letting my team know that I will not be writing about cow dung. The team all of a sudden takes second priority and I no longer care for their well being.

I digress...

Jane has no valid excuse and her grandmother died 3 years ago. Should her name still go on the assignment? YES! Why?

BECAUSE SHE IS IN THE TEAM TOO!!!

Let me explain further with more explanations:

1. If you think of a classroom like a business you would have the boss (the professor) and the employees (the students). By removing an employee from the workload (for lack of participation) the team would be in a sense "firing" said employee. Well, the team does not have the authority to fire the employee; that is the boss's job and should be left up to the boss. The employees' job is to inform the boss of the situation so that the boss can handle the situation properly.

2. You're reverting to your childhood self by saying, "If you are not going to bring me any cookies, then I am kicking you out of the club." You're an adult, behave like one, even when you are challenged by adults behaving like children. Stooping to their level makes you no better.

3. Regardless of which team member participates or HOW MUCH each member participates it is still a team effort. If I decided that I was going to do JACK SHIT (hypothetically of course, not physically) I am still apart of the team. I may not be acting like much of a team member, but you can't control that.

4. It's a threat, more so a scare tactic. "IF you don't do the work, you don't get your name on the paper!" Is that the best you can come up with? My NAME doesn't go onto a piece of paper? You really convinced me to write that paper on cow dung. In fact, I am so worried about my name isn't going to go on the paper, I am going to write 600 instead of 300 words. The point is... If someone is not going to do the work, it doesn't matter if you threaten them with assignment points. I'll call your bluff, and raise you a trip to the managers office where

5. An eye for an eye. We are not in the Roman days and we all know this method doesn't work. It will always end in someone's death. For example:

I take your eye.

You take my eye for taking your eye.

I take your other eye for taking my eye.

You take my other for for me taking your other eye.

The result: You and I are both left blind!

END TANGENT

All I Want For Christmas - Day 11

I miss my nephew more than I can even explain. Whenever I go shopping, Lover has to physically and mentally keep me away from the little boy section so that I don't get wrapped up in how much I love and miss him.

Papa (My Mom's boyfriend) named him Mean Motor Scooter before he even saw him and it's kind of catchy.

There is no way that I can say no to those pretty blue eyes, this little man will always have a special hold on his Auntie!

All I want for Christmas is...

To spend it with my nephew.

Christie's Wish List:

1. Paid off furniture.

2. My dream home.

3. A nap.

4. My hair done.

5. The new PostSecret book/go to the event.

6. Laser hair removal.

7. A milkshake.

8. Work Out.

9. No student loans.
10. A massage.

11. My nephew.

All I Want For Christmas - Day 10

I think I am starting to run out of things that I want. And then I realized that for Lover's birthday a few weeks ago, I got him a massage and I remembered how long it has been since I have had one. So today,

All I want for Christmas is:

A 90 minutes massage from Massage Envy

Christie's Wish List:
1. Paid off furniture.
2. My dream home.
3. A nap.
4. My hair done.
5. The new PostSecret book/go to the event.
6. Laser hair removal.
7. A milkshake.
8. Work Out.
9. No student loans.

10. A massage.

All I Want For Christmas - Day 9

I think about money a lot. I love money. For those people who say, "Money doesn't buy happiness," well, you are right. Partially right, that is. Money cannot BUY happiness, but money sure can make things a-whole-hell-of-a-lot better!

Take today's Christmas wish for example, all I want for Christmas is...

My current and any future student loans paid off.

Do you know how much it effing costs to go to school these days? It's expensive! To add to it, no one is hiring, but they want you to have a degree, so that when they decided they are going to hire someone, they can pick up, because you are qualified and then cross their pretty little fingers that you will desperate enough for a job, ANY job, and pay you about the same and a high school graduate is being paid to clean gutters at the local Pigley Wiggley. Education, huh? I might have a Master's and $60,000 in debt, but at least I don't have to clean gutters!

That's really want it feels like. I'm no longer different from gutter cleaner, expect he is cleaning gutters and I feel like the gutter. YIKES!

Christie's Wish List:

1. Paid off furniture.

2. My dream home.

3. A nap.

4. My hair done.

5. The new PostSecret book/go to the event.

6. Laser hair removal.

7. A milkshake.

8. Work Out.

9. No student loans.

All I Want For Christmas - Day 8

Today, I just want...

Everything to fall into place, at the right time.

I have nothing else to add...

Christie's Wish List:
1. Paid off furniture.
2. My dream home.
3. A nap.
4. My hair done.
5. The new PostSecret book/go to the event.
6. Laser hair removal.
7. A milkshake.
8. Work Out.

All I Want For Christmas - Day 7

Last night I had a craving, I have this craving often. Rich & Creamy.

All I want for Christmas today is...

A Jack In The Box vanilla milkshake with extra whipped cream and two cherries...

They are my favorite, and besides the Weed Bowling Alley (local BA backhome) they have the best milkshakes that I have ever had. They taste almost exactly like what you would get if you ordered one in a restraunt, but better!

What defines a good milkshake?

1. Texture. The milkshake has to be rich and creamy, but a thick rich and creamy. I want to have to struggle to suck it's delicious white material out of the straw. Mmm...

2. Sweetness. Milkshakes can't be too sweet, but they can't be NOT sweet either! A non-sweet milkshake would most definitly defeat the purpose.

3. Ingredients. You can't be lazy and just blend some ice cream and milk together and call it a milk shake. Melted ice cream is NOT, I repeat, is NOT a milkshake. Milkshake requires a specific syrup. The flavored syrup can make or break a milkshake.

Word of the wise. Wendy's milkshakes SUCK! They are horrible. Jack in the Box was closed my the time I felt the urge to satisfy my sweet tooth. I was left with othe alternatives, all closed - except for Wendys. I will never eat a milk shake from Wendys ever again. YUCK!

Can anyone guess where I am going to lunch today?

Christie's Wish List:

1. Paid off furniture.

2. My dream home.

3. A nap.

4. My hair done.

5. The new PostSecret book/go to the event.

6. Laser hair removal.

7. A milkshake.

All I Want For Christmas - Day 6

Welcome to Day 6 of my all I want for Christmas special.

All I want for Christmas is...

Laser hair removal

How many of you are SICK and tired of shaving? If you are like me, then you don't like ANY hair what-so-ever! The only hair my body should have in on my head, and my eyebrows. That's it!

My hair grows so damn fast, it seems like when ever I shave, the next day I need to shave again. I don't have time for that crap and I don't have the energy for that crap. I'm sick and tired of my toes and fingers turning into prunes because I'm in the shower so long... SHAVING!

I'm tired of cutting myself and the bleeding not stop for HOURS! I know I am not the only one who has noticed that when you cut your self shaving, even if it is just the smallest of cuts, that fucking thing produces to much damned blood, it NEVER stops! So this year for Christmas, I want laser hair removal. Not just one session either, I want a WHOLE subscription for it, so that I can keep going back until I have absolutely NO MORE hair!




Christie's Wish List:
1. Paid off furniture.
2. My dream home.3. A nap.
4. My hair done.
5. The new PostSecret book/go to the event.
6. Laser hair removal.

All I Want For Christmas - Day 5

All I want for Christmas is:

The new PostSecret book, so that I can get a ticket to go to the event at The Changing Hands Bookstore in Tempe on 12.07 @ 7pm!!!!

If you don't know what PostSecret is you should go here. Some of the stuff I don't believe, some of it I laugh at, some of it I cringe at, I get teary eyed at, I smile at, or I get angry at. MOST of the secrets have me wondering if the C.I.A is taping into my brain and broadcasting my life little pieces at a time to the general public. Then, having them conspicuously post these as there secrets. I am almost always grateful to know that I am not the only person in the World, state, country, who thinks or does certain things. Those are my secrets and I'm not telling which ones are true!

Christie's Wish List:

1. Paid off furniture.
2. My dream home.

3. A nap.
4. My hair done.

5. The new PostSecret book/go to the event

All I Want For Christmas - Day 4

It's DAY 4!!!!

All I want for Christmas is:

My hair done.

For the last couple of weeks, I have sat in my desk at work and picked off my split ends. It's really amazing how many you have, or how many strands of have your have. Either way, I need my hair done. I need a weave of colors put back into it, including 2 dark browns, because my hair is getting far lighter than what I would like. I need it re-layered. Not horrible big gaped layers, but a little bit of layer. This would be wonderful! Something similar to this girl. Except a little bit more light brown, less red, and some blond highlights.

I really, really, want this for another reason as well. My work Christmas party is coming up on the 16th and I always try to look my very, very best on this day. Not really to impress anyone in particular, BUT because my work has a lot of men, in fact I am 1 in 3 women who work here. So, the party is where they bring their wives. Girls will always compete with one another, not that I in any way what anything other than a work relationship with their husband or boyfriend. It still feels good knowing I am the prettiest girl in the room, and there is NOTHING wrong with that. :D

Christie's Wish List:

1. Paid off furniture.
2. My dream home.

3. A nap.

4. My hair done.

All I Want For Christmas - Day 3

All I Want for Christmas on Day 3 is...

A nap.

I could really use a nice nap. One in which I don't have to listen to our upstairs neighbors do the dirty. One where the T.V. is shut off, because the microwaves (or are they magnetic?) disturb my sleep. One without a crying Cinderella; while I love this girl, sometimes I think she does things on purpose - like cry at 2 am in the morning and Lover just ignored it in hopes that I will get up and calm her (I do), and she still doesn't calm down so I lay down and let her fall asleep on my belly while she is on her belly and I wake up an hour or so later and she has drooled all over my boobs and it dripped into my armpit and I go to put her in her OWN crib, he OWN bed and she wakes up and starts crying again. Yea, that! I want none of that during my nap.

What I do want, is to curl up in my beautifully soft and plush bamboo blanket, to lay on my freshly washed sheets, rest my head of a that perfectly plump pillow, sink into my bed like I was laying on a bundle of feathers, and dream about laying on the beach in the late spring, sun glistening off of my forehead, toes in the sand, and reading a nice romance novel.

THAT is what I want for Christmas today and I don't think it is too much to ask.

Christie's Christmas Wish List:

1. Paid off furniture.
2. My dream home.
3. A nap.

All I Want For Christmas - Day 2

Its Day 2 of The All I Want For Christmas special.

To know me is to know that I don't ask for much. In general, I take initative to make sure that people are comfortable, happy, and have what they want when in my presence. I hope that others would do the same for me. After all, doesn't the phrase say, "Treat people the way you want to be treated."

Today, is out design center appointment. This probably means nothing to you, but to me it means the next 30 years. Lover and I get to pick out everything we want for our home from the tile and carpet, to the cabinets and accent walls. We have a limit of $19,740 in upgrades (all of which will be rolled into the mortgage). $3,800 of that is reserved for our BIG master shower. We choose to forgo the shower and seperate tub, for one bigger shower instead. I know what you are thinking. And you are totally right! That is exactly why I want a big shower. Having a big shower leaves a little amount of money left to upgrade.

The following needs to be upgraded:

- The laminate tile to ceramic 18X18 tile
- The carpet to that new stuff where the elephant lived on it and then they cleaned it and it held up REALLY well. Yea, that recycled stuff. I want that.
- From Oak cabinets to maple (I hate the seeing age lines on wood, eventually we will upgrade to bamboo cabinets, cause I LOVE bamboo everything)
- Sun Shades on all the windows, because here in AZ we need all the protection we can get.
- A Washer and Dryer
- Upgraded appliance (fridge not included)
- Painted accent walls We figure that those 3 upgrades will pretty much take all of our money for upgrades.

Which is really sad, because that leaves no spare money for the fun stuff like:

- Surround sound throughout the house (see, this is nice because the speakers are flush with the wall, there are no wires showing, and it's THROUGHOUT the house.
- Our fridge. It would be awesome if we could roll this into the mortgage
- Nice lighting, cause lighting can be really expensive.
Pool table
A Bar (yea, I will have one, maybe not right away, but I will.have.one)
- Granite counter tops
- Marbella in the bathroom instead of the white ceramic.

All I want for Christmas is...

My dream home, equiped with all that was mentioned above.

Christie's Christmas Wish List:
1. Paid off furniture
2. My dream home

All I Want For Christmas - Day 1

It's Day 1 of the All I Want for Christmas edition in this blog.

We're buying a house, and the other weekend we bought furniture. Technically, we put it on layaway, same thing, right? We plan on using the First Time Home buyer tax credit that we will get to pay it off. However, this is assuming that we close escrow by June 30th, which might be a problem depending upon when they have the house finished and ready for us to move in. It would be so nice if that furniture was paid off before that time. Let's say, today! And without someone else's income other than mine and Lovers.

All I want for Christmas is...

Our layaway furniture to be paid off.

Christie's Wish List:
1. Paid off furniture

My Bright Idea

First, let me just say that I hope all of you had a wonderful and happy and non-stressful Thanksgiving. I had a surprisingly great time. I met Lover's Grandma, who I love. I mean, she reminds me of my Grandma, in the sense that she is nothing like a grandma. She is fragile or withered and she still has a lot of furry in her. Not to mention, she made a mmmm mmmm mmm food. I couldn't help but say mmmm as the food was entering my mouth. YUM! YUM! YUM! I asked Lover while we were there if his Mom's food was as good, because we were going there later. He shrugged his shoulders.

DAMN it! That means no, and if Thanksgiving food isn't as good as this then it isn't good at all, because THIS is how good food is SUPPOSE to taste.

His Dad will eventually learn to talk to me, instead of taking my man and doing yard work, ON THANKSGIVING. Some people never rest. I mean, it was Thanksgiving and he could have spent time with his future daughter-in-law and Cinderella. It is what it is. Lover says that we are going to start going over to his Grandmas house more. Which is cool.

OH! When we move to our house, we will be WAY closer to her. Right now she is like an hour away from us, but after we move, she'll be like 20-30 minutes away. And she said that she would help us decorate. Which is GREAT, because I have the ideas in my head, but I don't really know how, what, or where I want something or anything.

Lover fucked up and asked his Dad to help us landscape. Ugh! I can do it by myself! Everyone knows that the more adults you have involved in something the more opinions you have, and I don't want any fucking big mouth opinion ruining the wonderful plan that I have for our front yard. I guess the help will be nice and I wont complain, but I just want to make it very.very. clear that I COULD do it without any help.


Now, to the bright idea. For each day in December I am going to add to the All I Want For Christmas list. That way you all know exactly what it is that I want for Christmas and maybe you can help a girl out! Anyway, tomorrow will start Day 1. I've had this planned for awhile, and I know the STUPID posting thing screwed up because I scheduled this all last week. So, you might have already gotten a sneak peak. You're just lucky.

The Time I Almost Got to Party with Smash Mouth (Part 3)

Newbies to this series should first read this, and then this.



Okay, are you caught up now? Perfect!



We left off on my perpetual need to down some vodka.



After that glass and a half, I slowed down a bit and started using it as a sipping vodka. That slut, Jackie, snuck away with James. They went away "to talk." Yea right! They went away to park his tour bus in parking garage she probably had going on down there. Bitch!


The rest of the night is a little hazy, I do remember being told that Smash Mouth has broken down somewhere around Crystal Lake, so they were camping there for the night. Umm... Yea, right! They were probably living it up at the Hilton or perhaps staying with their families for the night. Good cover, but I didn't buy it.



Nothing bad happened to us, THANK GOODNESS and we all ended up back in our own hotel rooms (meaning the four girls in our room and the men in their own room) and went to bed sometime around 1 in the morning. I was laying there, and I couldn't go to sleep. The room was spinning. I didn't feel like I needed to throw up, but I was tired! I was damn tired, and after 20 minutes of trying to stop the room from turning around and around, I walked to the bathroom and inserted finger.



If there is one thing about me, it is that I DO NOT like to "be drunk." I don't like the feeling of throwing up, so I rarely if ever drink enough to make myself throw up. There might be one or two nights in a year, where I get so wasted, that I force myself to throw up, so that I can go to bed.



The next morning, we might have said goodbye to James and Ted, maybe we didn't. After all, they weren't as much fun as we thought (or perhaps they weren't as dangerous as we expected).



We left early after getting ready and went to do what girls do best... Shop! We went to the mall, and did some browsing, maybe some shopping. Then, Katrina and Sara decided to use the "hotel" money that was supposed to be used on the cousin to get manicures. This left Jackie and I to spend time together, we spent it out in the parking lot smoking cigarettes. In said parking lot we met another guy, let's call him Mike. Mike, was working in the back of what appeared to be a UHaul. What he was really doing was promoting the new 5 blade razors from Shick (I think, maybe not. It's the orange razor. Got it? Cool.). Wait, that's still not right. Mike was pit-man for a drag racer. Shick sponsored them, so he was out doing his sponsor duties and promoting the product. Jackie and I made nice with him, we talked and for some stupid, stupid reason we all exchanged numbers so that we could meet up later.

I think I was so okay with it, because it was day light and the fact that Mike was another sexy beast. How can I convince him that Jackie is as ugly on the outside and she is on the inside? Oh well. You'll never see him again anyway, just have as much fun as you can.

The next thing we know all four of use follow Mike back to his hotel room where 3 of his friends are waiting. Okay, wait! So, ummm... Why is it that hot guys all have ugly friends. I mean, you expect that you meet one hot guy he will lead you back to the plethora of hot guy friends that he has. This was not the case. So, ended up spending the next few hour talking with these 3 men, and smoking pot (okay, so I didn't smoke, but I was surrounded by it and I felts like I was going to vomit!). Needless to say, I was ready to attempt the 4-5 hour journey home.

Mike and Jackie had other plans, and we were all dragged in (minus the ugly men). Off to San Fransisco we would go. Of course we HAD to take separate cars, ours and Mike in his own, because that is where we would part ways. And of course, you guessed it. Jackie rode with Mike the whole way down. Have I mentioned that she was a slut? Well, she is.

The trip turned out to be pointless as Mike and Jackie "lost us" shortly after we went through the toll on the bridge and we didn't get back with them for an hour. That was we were calling them for an hour trying to find them, mean while we were completely lost and couldn't find a gas station, and it was dark. Yea, Jackie is a slut, and a bitch!

Finally, when we "found" them, it was time to head home. Jackie kissed Mike good-bye. *clears throat* weren't you just making out with James last night?

We didn't get home until 2 or 3 in the next morning, we found out Jackie, being the bitch that she is, told everyone we were hanging out with that Katrina and I were 15 (excuse me! I was 16!), and I gave Sara $20 to get my double prints of the pictures she took. I never got them. So, I have no proof. I am kind of curious if I would find James or Mike half as cute as I did back then knowing what I know now?

This trip was one of the stupidest things I ever did, I was half miserable the whole time, due to Jackie being an attention whore, or just a whore, you pick, and the whole lying thing. I'm a a terrible liar to begin with, unless of course I was telling my mother that I was going to bed, when in actuality I was on my way out the door to go to a party. I am pretty sure this was the last big lie that I told, and it was more of a lie of omission.

The Time I Almost Got to Party with Smash Mouth (Part 2)

If you are new, tune in here to read the first part of this, I-have-no-idea-how-many-parts mantra of mine.

So where are we at?

- I was 16
- Going into my Freshman year of college
- Just got my belly button pierced without my Mom's approval
- AND I told her
- She agreed to let me go to Santa Rosa to "hang out" with Smash Mouth under the following conditions:
- Sara's cousin would be there
- No drinking (HA! Okay, Mom)
- I call her every few hours to check in (I love my Mom and her checking in!)

We are driving to Santa Rosa. Woot! Woot!

I was driving with 3 pot heads, well they weren't entirely pot heads, they smoked a lot, but not.. okay, they were pot heads. I never smoked pot, at least, I didn't want too because I was trying out for volleyball, and I couldn't confirm, but didn't know if they drug tested.

We were, oh I don't know, 2 1/2 hours away from home when EVERYTHING started coming out the closet.

There was no Jack (The male cousin). Wait, there was a Jack, but he certainly didn't know where we were going, who we would be with, and he never made any plans to meet us there.

Uh! Nice that they told me this NOW! I mean, that was one of the only reasons I felt safe enough to want to go. In fact, looking back I probably would not have even THOUGHT about going had it not been for that one piece of information.

But what could I do? I was 2 1/2 hours away from home, I was 16, and I had no way back home. I had NO CHOICE, I had to go along with it. I suppose I could have called my Mom, sucked in my pride and ruined every one's trip. I didn't want that on my shoulders, and I didn't want to worry anyone. So what did I do? I kept my big fucking mouth SHUT!

We get to the hotel. This is it? You mean to tell me that we honestly are expected to believe Smash Mouth is going to be staying in this hotel? This Best Western style hotel. Yay right! you three have been had. Like I said before, I'm just along for the ride. That, was exactly when I knew, we would not be meeting Smash Mouth, we would not be getting tickets, and I highly doubt that we would even be doing anything like what the movies show.

I was kind of expecting a RAVE. Dangerous thing I was. I mean, while I didn't want to participate in any of it. I wanted to see it like in the movies, the girl snorting coke in the bathroom, the threesome going on in the bedroom, the hookah in the living room, and the loud music, bright colors, and glow sticks! You can't forget about the glow sticks. My dream were shattered. My heart was crushed.

They had been taken for by Ted and James, but I was taken for by them. You live you learn, right? I kept telling myself that if at any time I felt uncomfortable I would just retreat to my room and if they felt like having sex with them, they could damn well take it to THEIR room, not to the one we were all sharing.

They finally got a hold of Ted and James and we made arrangements to meet with them later. Not before Ted weaseled his way over to our hotel room, because he was like, the very next one over. Creepy! I didn't see what Katrina saw in Ted. From what I could tell he had acne scars, looked too hold, THOUGHT (meaning he thought he was, but he really wasn't) he was a smooth talker, AND thought he was someone important. He wasn't and I saw through his fake facade. My people skills proved him to be, as Katrina had said, harmless. That doesn't mean he wasn't trying to weasel his way into her pants.

Later that night I had the pleasure of meeting yummy eye candy, I-wish-you-would-try-to-jump-into-my-pants James. He was the tall dark and handsome type. 6'2", jet black hair, broad shoulders, blue hypnotizing eyes, washboard abs, and a British accent. The British accent had me sold. Oh he was yummy. I only wish he wasn't so interested in the slutty red head, Jackie. UGH! Men and their poor taste. I got over it quick! They would never see him again, probably never talk to him again, and I didn't want to get laid that bad. Good luck, my friend.

I of course was the first to suggest going to the pool. I wanted to show off my big boobs, and (at the time) rockin' body. I had already gotten a peak at Jackie's stomach rolls on the car ride there, and in the hotel room while she was changing. I don't think he would be impressed. I win! Bitches are scandalous. The things us women do for attention.

We hung out in the pool, got yelled out from an old man off of the balcony. Apparently we woke him up. He called the hotel staff shortly after. We were kicked out of the pool, I guess that makes it the second pool I've been kicked out of.

With nothing else to do, and no where to go, since they were entertaining minors (I still maintained my age of 16) we went back to our rooms to clean up and then met back up again (It was probably midnight when we saw them again, a whopping 30 minutes of non communication).

I of course, maintained my end of the bargain by calling my mom and checking in. If I didn't she would know something was up, and I was trying to establish trust here. Word of the wise, checking in is not a bad thing. I never felt childish for checking in, and I knew that my Mom loved and cared for me. THAT is why she needed to hear my voice when I was away. She needed to hear I was raped and abandoned in an alley somewhere. Which little did she know at the time, very well could have happened on this stupid trip! As I said before, I had been had. But, I should have known better!

We went to their "Roady" bus. It wasn't that bad. In fact, coming from someone who had never seen a tour bus or Roady bus before, it looked about like I expected it. Bigger on the inside that what it appeared on the outside. There was even this "lounge" area in the back. Oh and beds! Oh many times did I picture James throwing me down on that bed during the next hour or so? I'm willing to bet, a lot. Us yougin' are horny little things.

We sat in the lounge area and they offered us vodka. PERFECT! I love vodka! There was a catch? They had nothing to mix it with.

"You got ice?"

"Yea."

"Lemon?"

"No."

"Lime?"

"No."

What the hell is wrong with these people. Either they are incredibly stupid in the art of seduction or incredibly smart. I still vote stupid.

"Then vodka and ice it is."

Myself and the boys were the only ones drinking. No one else was capable of stomaching straight vodka. PUSSIES! I do love the taste of vodka, good vodka that is and they were definitely giving my good vodka. My first drink lasted a whole 10 seconds. Ted then felt compelled to point out this was a "sipping" vodka, and not meant for shots.

---------

I am running out of time to write this. Until next time.

The Time I Almost Got to Party with Smash Mouth (Part 1)

This is one of those posts that was inspired by another. Here is the blog that made me want to get THIS event out of my head!

Go ahead and read it... What did you think?

Anyway, this is going to be about my aforementioned road trip. I don't even think my Mom knows the whole trust, I either never confessed it or was too embarassed. I hope she doesn't read this.

----

"PLLEEEASE.... Mooommm! Can I go? Pretty please? Katrina and I are going to be the only 16 years old (Good God! Has it been that long?). Sara and Jackie are like 22, and Sara's cousin is going to be there! He is a big guy, Mom. I've never met him, but Katrina's parents have and they say he is big and will protect us if anything bad happens."

Mom: "I'll think about it."

"But Mooomm! They are leaving tomorrow, you don't have time to think about it. If I'm going then I have to stay there tonight, and it's late and there just isn't time to think about. Mom, PLEEEASE! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"Okay fine."

"Wait, I can go?"

"Yes."

Umm... That was a little too easy...

-----------

Let me explain... It was the summer going into my Freshman year of college, I was only 16 (I'm kinda smart), it was the day AFTER I got back from spending 2 weeks in Corning with my old baby sitter (who ironically, isn't MUCH older than I and really cool!) where I has just gotten my belly button unprofessionally pierced without my Mom's permission and I told her, in hopes to build trust (that's me, forgiveness is better to ask for than permission) AND I was trying to convince my Mom to let me go with an old friend, Katrina of the fence hopping Katrina's, and 2 older girls, who I had never met, but one of them Sara, had a Dad who substituted for my elementary classes Back in the day. Sara's cousin, we'll call him Jack, was suppose to meet us in Santa Rosa, and "protect" us.

Why were we going to Santa Rosa? Well, Sara, Jackie, and Katrina went to the fair in Medford and watched Smash Mouth perform. After one of the songs, Sara stood up and gave them a standing ovation. Normally, this wouldn't have been a big deal, although Sara has severe muscular dystrophy and was in a wheel chair. The drummer of Smash Mouth (Michael Urbano) saw this happen. He then came out with a white carnation and gave it to her.

After the show they (not me, as I wasn't there, or "into" that stuff) ended up smoking pot with a couple of the Roadies, let's call them Ted and James. Ted and James then invited the 3 of them to Santa Rosa, Smash Mouth's home town, for their performance at THAT fair the very next weekend. They were going, no matter what. I was invited later.

-------------

Before talking to me Mom...

Me: "So, we are going to be staying at the same hotel as the Roadies?"

Katrina: "Yea, but you have to be quiet about your age, they don't know I'm 16, they think I am 18."

Me: "You lied about your age? I don't feel comfortable lying."

"Christie, you look like your 25, you can lie about you age and they wouldn't know they wiser."

"Okay, tell him I am 17, almost 18. I'll still be a miner. I can't believe you like that guy! How old is he?"

"30. But he is really cute, and sweet and he says he likes me, a lot."

"How can Ted like you, you spent a few hours with him! He just wants to get laid."

"He's not like that."

"How do you know? You don't even know him."

"I can just tell. You know how you can just tell."

"Yea I know what you me." - I totally didn't get it! But I was down just for the ride. Plus, my best friend was in Petaluma and maybe I would be able to meet up with her for a little bit.

I knew the whole trip sounded shady. A lot of stuff was being left out that I didn't even know. But it sounded like fun. Plus, the roadies actually said that Smash Mouth would be staying at the same hotel as us. Interesting, it should be a nice hotel... You'll find out later... AND really? I mean I know big rock star bands are cool cats and all. But I doubt they will be spending their time with "the likes of us."

It was a road trip I was down for it...

Stay tuned to find out what happened next...

"Ask Christie what happened the last time she hoped a fence for water"

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Lot's to Say...

I have so many blog posts fluttering up in my nogin, I need to get them out before I forget them!

I Have a Problem

I've mentioned before that when I sleep I sleep, I am out and I don't like to be bothered! I've been known to curse, throw a tantrum, and even slap Lover in the face. Mind you, I don't remember a thing the next morning.

It's progressivly gotten worse, I should see a sleep doctor or something. Really. Anyone know one?

This morning I woke up in bed, with a vague recollection of how I got there. I walked by myself, but I am pretty sure not before giving Lover a piece of my mind.

So... When I woke up this morning I had a bad feeling. My mind was racing, but I felt guilty. I think I dreamed about being really mean to Lover. I could just tell that I was mean to him and that broke my heart. So, when I woke up I apologized and apologized and asked him to tell me what I did. He didn't. Now my mind is racing at what I possibly could have done, because he always shares with me what I do in my sleep, and usually voluntarily. This time? Nothing. Not a thing.

It HAD to be something pretty bad! Why wouldn't he tell me if it was something that was no big deal?

Something made me angry, and I took it out on Lover. I intend to find out just HOW I took it out on him.

The Spitters

He walks out the door, shoulders back and swagger in his step. You see him as confident man and you want to pounce. He continues on his way, slight cocks (cocks. haha.) his head to the right and without expression, the pucking of his lips, a further tilt of his head, or looking down from his focus, he does it. He spits. Your mind races and you replay the event in his head. Suddenly it makes since. *LIGHT BULB* That wasn't confidence in his step, it was arrogance; much like this man below. This portrayal of his attitude, that he is suddenly cooler, more manly, and desireabl because he can spit.

You can't mistake hawking a luigi for spitting, they are different. One involves the use to snot passing through your nasal passage, into your throat, and over your taste buds before combining with spit and leaving your mouth. Sounds sexy right? The sexy man to my right? He hawks luigis, still think he is as sexy? Do you still want his tongue in your mouth? Do you still want to put your tongue in HIS mouth? I think not. It's something we don't like to think about, and we don't think about it, because we rarely see anyone do it. But when we do, he goes from looking like the man on the right, to looking like the man above! Out of sight, out of mind, right? Anyway, I am talking about spitting here, not hawking a luigi, but same concept.

I see so many young, ignorant men do it, spit. It's gross. No one on this planet wants to walk around on, step on, or see the nasty vileness that comes from anther's mouth.

See... Since I have 3 Phd's in this kind of thing, I think I am qualified to determine the psychological reasons as to why some men do it. I have put together the following of why men spit.

Power. or the lack of. Some men are in a position where they feel like they are the most powerful person, everything would go wrong with out them, and so they spit. Sometimes they think about it before they do it. Their spit is strategically planned out to make sure the desired people see him do it. Or, maybe he does it all the time.

Respect. This spitter thinks that by spitting, he is demanding more respect and that those who see him do it will thus give him more respect. It kind of goes back to the power thing. You see, the more respect this spitter has, the more power he has, or the more more he THINKS he has. He is really making himself look like an arrogant buffoon, like this guy on the left.

Coolness. Others just think it is "cool," and we all know that the most respected and powerful men spit, right?

Manly. Some think spitting is a manly gesture. They think it makes them look more masculine and thus can gain power, respect, and coolness from his peers.

Territorial. Let me explain. Man standing at the bus station, sees his friend coming toward him. "Hey man," spits, "how's it going." Friend: "Not bad, just waiting for the bus to come." Spitter: Spits again, "That's cool man." spits.

ugh! STUPID! Just because you got there first, does not mean that the bus stop is YOURS, you can stop spitting now, you weren't going it before he showed up, there is no need to do it now.

The real reasons they spit?

Self-Conscious. They lack the respect, power, and cool factor and think they can gain it through stupid male social mechanisms. If you don't got it, you just wont get it.

I just want to say that you are arrogant, uncool, disgusting, and you do not, in the slightest, look any bit of masculine or cool.

In case you are wondering. Shit Talker brought this on. I see something moving in my peripheral (while playing on the Internet) blogging I look-up. 90% of the time it is Shit Talker, leaving that cave of an office and pretending to do something of importance. 100% of the time, he does exactly what the story says. he spits. EVERY TIME! He spits every fucking time! I just want to run up and punch him in the face because he looks like an idiot! I would much rather him look like and idiot with a broken nose/black eye that I gave him!

Are you sure Christie isn't on that list?

I mentioned in I Just Sent You Flowers So I Can Get Laid that I am a HUGE fan of John Jay & Rich in the morning. Recently, they posted a list of ten male and ten female names. These weren't just ANY names, these were the names of very special people. You see, people with these names have a problem... a problem with giving themselves away. Are you following? They are the names of hoish women and slutty men (slut isn't gender specific is it?).

I felt compelled to share it:

"Loose" Women:

10. Nicky

9. Carly

8. Lisa

7. Tina

6. Michelle

5. Steph

4. Becky

3. Debbie

2. Tanya

1. Kelly

(I think this woman would definitely be a Debbie)

Loose" Men:

10. Lee

9. Dave

8. Andy

7. Steve

6. Kevin

5. Gary

4. Paul

3. Darren
2. Jason

1. Ben

(Now, this guy! He is most definitely a Ben)

The funny part was last night when I was explaining this to Lover. In his most sincere and intimidating voice he exclaims,"Are you sure Christie wasn't on that list."

I respond by saying, "As a matter of fact," while turning toward him and looking deep into his eyes I finish, "Christie held the number one position."

Lover, "That's not the only position she will be holding tonight."

...and I'm a genius!

I have been going back and forth on the "nickname" for Lover's daughter for many months now. I just don't know what to call her. VodkaMom already stole Bitchy and Sassy for her two daughters, so I can't very well steal those. I'm sure more of you that I read have some good nicknames too, but it's hard to remember them when I am thinking and writing about myself.

I have tossed around just using her first name, he nickname (play off her first name), and plain ol' 'Baby,' (original, right?) but none of them seemed to fit... until now.

Since the beginning of mine and Lover's relationship he has always joked about what a good girl his baby girl will be when she gets older. He then likes to imagine the horror, stress, and miserbility (is this a word? A state of being miserable) that I will go through once his "precious" daughter gets older. The fights, the tantrums, the not listening. He especially enjoys it, because it further proves to him that his daughter, his own flesh and blood, his offspring will love him more than she will love "the other woman."

He finds morbid humor in imagining his daughter throwing things at me, me telling her that if she doesn't behave "I'll tell Daddy," and just vivid hatred between the two of us. Now, he of course (or so he says), doesn't want that to happen and has no doubts that I will love his daughter and we will get along fine. Simple reason as to why? Because I'll be around from birth, she will always know me and out relationship as it is. I will never be some girl you storms in and takes away "Daddy's time."

Mind you, I have no idea about Father/Daughter relationships. My father is an ass-jockey and I can't imagine what in the world his is going to want to do with him.

Anyway, he pictures me as the evil step-mom in order to amuse his uneventful days. So, in order to get him back I will constantly talk about how if he doesn't watch it I really will become the evil step-mom and when he wasn't around I'll make her scrub the floors with lye and a sponge.

I know you're think that is the point where I became a genius, but it's not... bare with me.

My original dilemma was that I could not find a nickname for this child, so that I could directly talk shit about her (in the future of course, she is an innocent baby for now) and no one would know the wiser. All the talk of being mean was brought BACK up, it reminded me of a Disney movie. Which is why I responded that way. and the DING!

DING! DING! DING!

Her new nickname in my blog hit me... Are you ready for it?

Cinderella! Not only because of Lover's ridiculousness, but because I will be the step mom and her the step child and it fits PERFECTLY! You can tell me how smart and creative and brilliant I am now. No really, you can.

Now I want to know, what nicknames do you have for people in your blog? and how did you come up with it?

Bitch Boy, Pot Stirrer, and Shit Talker

I have given yet another nickname to a co-worker. Bitch Boy. This goes to our new "safety manager." First, he is not above nor below me in status, he makes more money, far more money than I, but that does not mean he is better than I. Second, his boss doesn't even work at this facility so he doesn't even seem like an actual employee of my workplace. and Thirdly, I hardly ever see him, he does not have a company phone, and there is literally NO way (other than e-mail) for me to get a hold of him. This fact alone does not bother me in the slightest. What does bother the living fuck out of me, is that Bitch Boy does not provide his contact information to his customers or vendors so that they can follow up with him AND he gives out the company phone number to these people so that they can "contact" him. However, he is completely unreachable by this number.

Bitch Boy is not the only person I have this problem with. Shit Talker (yes, another new nickname), is also in a separate office and not reachable through the office phone. However, HE has a company cell phone and I give out that number openly and freely. There is another one out of these three that is also unavailable by land line, we will call him Innocent By Stander, because I LIKE him, and he is always more than willing to help me out. Plus, he has almost no authority, much like myself and can't control not having a cell phone (because Shit Talker and Shit Talker's management took it away).

So, we have Bitch Boy, Shit Talker, and Innocent By Stander (IBS).

I have the luxury of being yelled at, rudely spoken too, and hung up on on a daily basis because "our company needs to get their shit together," "I am lying," or "Bitch Boy told them he could be reached at this number." Well, a few weeks ago I was fed up with it. I e-mailed Bitch Boy and asked for his contact information so that I can give it to these people when they call. He responded by saying that the people who needed it already had it, and he doesn't want to deal with anyone else.

My response. Well, I guess they are SOL.

Flash forward to yesterday morning.

I finally had enough. I was yelled at by one person too many. This time, the phone call was in regard to IBS; however, I had enough of it.

I sent out another e-mail to all 3 of them stating, and I quote:
"When you do business with someone, please make sure that you give them the needed information in order to get back a hold of you (Other than the main office line, as you cannot be reached via this line). This would be great as I am tired of being hung up on and bitched at because they can’t reach you.

Thanks!
Christie"

So, I realize that I probably could have worded it differently, but I was pissed and BITCHED was the word that best described what was happening to me.

Bitch Boy, decided to ignore my e-mail and pass it on to Shit Talker, in which he basically said that I was a horrible person, employee, and should "have a talking too." Now look here... Don't tell someone I need a "talking to." And second of all, if you had a problem, the first step is to confront the person you have a problem with. Isn't this what we learned in Kindergarten through that whole problem solving shit where you start off stating how you feel and by the end of the damn exercise you are hugging the person who you punched in the face after they put wet sand down your pants?

Anyway, more anger arises from the fact that later that day my boss comes to me and says we need to talk. Now, my boss doesn't talk to me. No really, he doesn't talk to me. Only every now and then to ask a question, in which I answer directly and he leaves my office. So, we he starts off saying we need to talk, I flip and start racking my brain of WHAT THE FUCK I possibly did wrong within the last month.

Then, he calls in Mrs. No Holey Jeans, and we go to the conference room for a "meeting." Umm... Well, he takes longer than he should to get there and all I can think about is the "big wigs" that are coming into the office the next day and how they just had all this budget meeting shit, and OH FUCK they are getting rid of my position! Then, my eyes swell with tears and I get a fucking toad in my throat (kind of like what is happening now, because the thought of loosing my job upsets me soo soo much!) and I have to choke everything back, because I will not let Mrs. No Holey Jeans see me cry. And will my fucking boss just bring his ass in here and get it over with already. I'm going to cry. Not only am I going to cry, I am going to bawl, and there will be snot and mascara running and I don't see a box of tissues up here.

Finally! My boss comes in and hands me a piece of paper. AHAHAHAHA! It's my e-mail! And Bitch Boys e-mail to Shit Talker and Shit Talker's boss, Pot Stirrer's, response to my boss and my bosses response to all of them. WOW! Wait! Shit Talker sent this to Pot Stirrer, but Shit Talker's response is not included in this e-mail. Pot Stirrer DELETED IT! OH! I get it.

So, first. It was funny that even Pot Stirrer (who gained his name for other reasons as well) took my side by simply saying, this is not a matter of who is right or wrong. This is a communication issue and maybe you 3 (meaning, Shit Talker, Bitch Boy, and IBS) need to have a meeting to resolve it.

My boss, Teddy Bear (I am naming him this, because I was told once that he was a big Teddy Bear) then told them all that he would talk to me, but communication was important, this was the first he had heard of it, and if they have a problem contact him directly next time and he will handle it.

First, Teddy Bear is a great boss. He sticks up for his employees, even when they could have done something differently or approached it in a different way. AND he explains things to said employee *cough* HOW she can handle it differently, and that it might be better to just go to him (even though some times Teddy bear scares the shit out of her) and he will put them in their place. This makes me happy. Really happy, that my boss cares, sticks up for me, and doesn't back down.

Also, I think Mrs. No Holey Jeans needs to start taking lessons from him, because I really can't stand her careless attitude and Bitchiness! Fuck her! Although, she seems to tone it down, is much more helpful, and polite when Teddy Bear is around (also her boss). Imagine that!

It's so Stressful. I Want to Cry.

Lover and I are buying a house. And.It.Makes.Me.Want.To.Cry...Massive.Amounts.Of.Tears.

The whole process is just a big long shitty, stressful one. Stressful ONE!

So, 2 weeks ago we bought our bed. AWESOME, right? Yea, it is awesome. We got a screaming deal, a great comfortable bed, and we came in about $200 under budget. :D Oh wait. We didn't BUY the bed, we put it on layaway, and Lover will be making weekly payments until it is paid off the end of March. Can you believe that places still have layaway? I thought they did away with all that bogus back when plastic became popular. Lucky for us, they didn't. Who wants to pay interest on something anyway? And to be honest, I really DON'T want or need the bed right away. I would rather them just deliver to out home, when we get it.

This past weekend we went and bought out furniture. What.A.Night.Mare.NightMARE! Let me make myself clear, I do NOT like furniture stores, nor do I like furniture salesmen and it was just our luck that we got stuck with... the new guy. We were in that store FAR longer than what we wanted to be, especially since we had already came in the week before and picked out everything that we wanted so all we needed to do was negotiate. We were there for 2 hours and there was little negotiating! We took some things off (that we wanted but didn't need) and finally worked out the price that we budgeted for it. PERFECT! Everyone is happy, right? Wrong!

Not more than 10 minutes after we left the F'ing place we get a phone call from the salesman. Apparently, his high school diploma is worthless, because he doesn't even possess the skills of basic math. He "forgot" to add in one of the MAJOR pieces of furniture into his calculation. He says, "Don't worry, I changed it and had my manager sign off, so your new total is [yadda yadda]." Hmm... I'm sorry, but that just isn't the price that works for me and don't you need my signature for some LEGAL reasons. Like you can't tell me I owe X amount of dollars and then change it to Y amount once I sign the papers and am not there to defend myself.

"Do I need to come down to sign anything?"
"Oh no you don't need to do that, we took care of everything."
"Except we didn't agree on the price you are saying, we agreed upon the price I signed off on, and who the hell are you to just change the amount you know nothing of what we can afford or what we have budgeted."
"Well, it just is not necessary for you to come down, you can if you want, if it makes you feel better." - Who he fuck does this guy think he is. I wish I had more time or knew a lawyer because I am almost positive that he would have been binded to what we originally agreed on, and that's just tough shit he fucked up.
"Well, it does. In fact, we want to cancel the whole contract, I'll see you tomorrow."

Yes, I don't do well with salesman, I don't like feeling taken advantage of, and don't you DARE try to tell me I have to pay for your mistake. I'll be done with you faster than you can say, "douche bag." Lover gets this pouty look on his face and doesn't say much, just listens to me bitch, and asks a million time what we are going to do. Ugh! Weren't you listening? We are cancelling the furniture. We can go somewhere else.

Lover then sticks out his lip, puts his head down, looks up at me, and says in the sweetest voice he can muster, "but I don't want to cancel the furniture."

That's just FUCKING GREAT!
At least he made me laugh, in fact, he made me crack up and I briefly forgot how pissed off I was at the Ass jockey from the furniture store.

Fine, we will go back tomorrow and try to work out another deal. I in fact, went online to do some more research. They were having some sales on buying a dresser and mirror and getting the bed (meaning the headboard/baseboard/foot board) for free and I saw something about spending over $2,000 and getting $400 off. SO, now I would be going in there MORE prepared tomorrow.

I did and took the fucker by storm. Not only that, but I dealed almost solely with the manager instead. Screw the new guy and his 3rd grade math skills. Anyway, we ended up going with different furniture, got a better deal of the living room set, and got more "taken off" than originally offered of advertised.

So, with the furniture and bed we came in about $300 over budget. I am hoping to get us back on track when we buy the TVs, refrigerator, and deep freezer. We are going to Sears and

Lover thinks that we will also be buying a pool table. I responded by telling him that will only happen if I get my bar and Kegorator. He said he would give up a TV. He would give up a TV for a pool table. Not only that, but he will give up the TV in the bedroom for it. He didn't want one in there to begin with. I DID. So, again he is sacrificing nothing. We are still in heated negotiation.

On another note, Obama extended the deadline. It looks like we will actually be able to benefit! Yippee! So now, we are racking our brains and it seems like all we think about is this fucking house, and getting the fucking loan, and what we are going to put in the fucking thing! UGHH!!

Time to Shovel Some Snow

It's that time again. Snow shoveling time! *sigh*



I came out of the house this morning only to find my car covered and buried from the night before.














Actually, it is sunshine and feels like summer time. C'mon? I'm in Phoenix, we don't have winter. Our winter consisted of a week of cold weather, at night, maybe some overcast during the day, and a couple sniffing noses. That's it. The next couple of months will only be a treacherous journey to the heat.

A Mattress DOUBLES In Weight Over 10 Years...

Look it up. It's gross! Find a good mattress cover, and I don't mean those cloth ones either. You need a good mattress cover!

Overnight

Not many people can say they have to deal with Baby's Mommas (myself included), oh but how I know all about them.

BACKGROUND

While I am not at all giving dead beat Dads an excuse (as I have one), nor am I defending them in any way. BUT... After hearing some of Baby Momma's requests, demands, and unwillingness to budge. I can definitely see WHY men in general give up and neglect their responsibility. Women, don't always TELL the whole story, and make it very difficult to be civil. For example: In her imperfect world, Lover is not to have ANY overnights until Cinderella is 1 year old. :O

A year is a long damned time and has she even thought of the anxiety Cinderella might go through is she isn't use to staying with Lover and I? It just isn't realistic. Maybe if Lover was a dead beat Dad and only wanted Cinderella more so that he could pay less in child support or something. But, this is not the case. Lover wants, thrives, and now LIVES to be an active and supportive in Cinderella's life both financially, but MORE IMPORTANTLY physically.

Lover has a beautiful baby girl, Cinderella, from a previous relationship. I actually met Lover when Baby Momma (to be know from here out) was 7 months pregnant with Cinderella. He loves his little girl more than anything and has never made any attempt to "run" from his responsibility or his obligation. He is with Cinderella Monday through Wednesday from 8am until he goes to work at 2pm and Thursday and Friday from 8am until Baby Momma gets off of work at 5pm (Lover has Thursdays and Fridays off).

Lover and Baby Momma's relationship did not end on bad terms, they are still good friends (even though they don't hang out) and both want what is best for their daughter. They are not doing anything through the court (that just costs money) and everything is agreed between the two of them (dangerous).

BACKGROUND END

I've seen Lover get upset. He wants more time with his daughter, he misses her, BUT he is afraid to ask for more time, for steady overnights. I think he sometimes feels as though he is walking on egg shells, and one wrong move will lead to Baby Momma taking away Cinderella.

Finally, he has started to come around and ask for more things. We have "been granted" more frequent (but still unsteady) overnights, which thrills me, because it is one of the only times I get to see Cinderella (I work); the other time is Thursdays, for an hour, when Lover brings Cinderella to me on my lunch at work. :D

This morning, Lover asked Baby Momma for steady overnights! I think his new found balls, came because Baby Momma seemed to have some new found balls in asking him to start paying for half of HER (not Cinderella's) medical bills (understandable, but not really something we are worried about having to pay at this point. We have bills, we need to save, we're buying a house).

I have been nagging him for weeks to ask for overnights (a selfish attempt, because *I* want to see Cinderella more), and he finally did. I suggested 1 overnight a week (every Thursday or Friday - since he has those nights off). They agreed upon every Thursday and every other Friday! Happy tears were trying to stream down my face when I heard the good news! It starts tonight and I cannot wait to get home from work, wrap my arms around Cinderella, and smother her in kisses!

18 Years, 4, Months, and 21 Days

18 years, 4 months, and 21 days...

That is how old I was when I moved away from Mom and Dad. I drove, all 1,000 miles, in one shot from Weed, Ca (my hometown) to Phoenix, AZ. It wasn't just the day I moved away from home, it was the day I moved away from my Mom, the woman who had supported me and been there for me every day for the last 18 years, 4 months, and 21 days.

Where is all of this coming from? My 2 years anniversary was on Sunday/Monday. Sunday was the day anniversary of the day I left and 1am Monday morning was the anniversary of the day I arrived in Arizona. Both days are memorable.

It was a big leap of independence. A giant one, one that I wouldn't take back, but might possibly approach in a different way.

18 is young. People who are 18 really are just beginning their baby stages of their life. They think they know the real world, but they don't, because parents try as hard and for as long as they can to shelter their children from the cruelty of the real world. I knew what bills were, paid for my own cell phone, I paid for my own insurance and my own car. Unfortunately, it's not the same.

I do cherish that day. I cried so hard before I left, that I almost didn't leave, I almost post-poned it to the next day. I hugged my Mom so tight. Part of cries wasn't because I was moving, it was because I didn't know when I would be back, when I would see my Mom again. The other part was being afraid. Afraid of failure, and the shame that would come with having to "move back" if I failed. I was confident that wouldn't happen, I have a funny way of making things work. But, the fear was still there.

Then, my Mom's boyfriend did the unthinkable, he gave me money, to help along the way. It wasn't much, but it was enough, and it was the thought that meant the most. I cried harder. Now, they were a mixture of happy tears, sad tears, and scared tears.

I cried on and off for the next three hours. It wasn't until I was south of Sacramento that the tears subsided.

The next time the tears flowed, I was about 250 miles away from Phoenix. The trigger of these tears was a Britney Spears song. (SHUT.UP I'm a female, I can't control my emotions in these times. Plus, I am trying to be sentimental). The words, "I'm not a girl, not yet a woman..." played through my speakers. It was that moment that I knew I would persevere, and succeed and that too scared the shit out of me.

I closed a chapter of my life that day, it was the journey to independence. I then started writing a new chapter... the journey of independence.

The Morning Routine

Everyone (I can say everyone, because I've studied it. It's out there. On the web. Check it out.), has a morning routine. All routines can be different, but they are there, none-the-less.

For example, my morning routine when I was 16 went something like this (mind you I was in college at the time).

Mondays, Wednesday, and Fridays (Saturdays, Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays were my days off!!! I know!):

10:00(ish) - Wake up

10:10 - Shower

10:20 - Hair & Makeup

10:50 - Rush to get to class by 11:00 (It was only 10 minutes away, and there was NEVER any traffic/stop signs/traffic lights (small towns, gotta love 'em!)

Now, as I am older, hopefully wiser, and more importantly need money to survive, my morning routine goes a little like this:

6:45 - Turn off alarm and curl up with Lover

6:52 - Turn off alarm and curl back up with Lover (I have many alarms for different times set on my phone.

7:00 - Turn off alarm and try to keep my eyes open while I curl up with Lover

7:04(ish) - Rush out of bed in a hurry to get ready, and brush teeth

7:07 - Start make-up / hair (which is still wet from the shower last night, because always put it in a tight bun)

7:20 - finish getting ready. Contemplate eating breakfast, but choose to curl back up with Lover for a few more minutes.

7:30 - Turn off Lover's alarm

7:34 - Rush out of bed, get dressed

7:36 - Crawl back next to Lover, give him morning kisses (while avoiding his morning breath) He always tells me that I look sad. (I do). Then he asks why. (He always asks why!) I tell him because I don't want to go to work; that I want to stay here, with him. (I ALWAYS respond in these words). He smiles, I give him a kiss, tell him I love him and miss him (On Mondays - Wednesdays) or tell him I'll see him soon (On Thursdays and Fridays), and to have a good day.

7:38 - Rushing out the door

7:44 - Make it to the freeway, where I get to fight traffic

7:56 - Still fighting traffic

8:03 - Pull into work

8:05 - Get to my office. I am always a few minutes late. But, I don't really give a damn because they took away my overtime, forced me to take an hour lunch, and put me on a set schedule (like I'm salary), so showing up late to work makes me feel like I am getting something back.

I miss Lover. I wish I didn't have to leave him in the morning and go to work. I would much, much rather stay curled up in his arms as long as I could.

I also wish I could have the routine I did when I was 16. Things were easier back then.