Okay, so I was going to take a break from memory lane and post my reaction to the craziness that is the whole Miley Cyrus madness, but Jennster beat me to it and echoed my sentiments exactly. So go read it. Give her some love and give me a break for today.
During my first semester of college I was dating this guy that I can now only cringe when I think about. He and I were horrible together, but I was dealing with the whole mind-games thing that guys do and I was staying with him. I had a certain agriculture class in which we all talked about our lives and what was going on. In this class was a guy who caught my eye. I would share in class about my awful boyfriend and they would all make fun of me for staying with him. Even I knew it was pathetic, but I was young and dumb.
I bought some tickets to go to a George Strait concert in Oklahoma City (George happens to be the true love of my life). My boyfriend and I were supposed to go to this concert together on Halloween. But as the weeks up to the concert drew near, I was getting fed up with my whole relationship. I finally ended things, thankful to be out of such a verbally abusive realtionship. Because of this controlling boyfriend, I had cut a lot of ties with my old friends from high school. I found myself with and extra ticket to George Strait and no one to share it with.
I showed up for my agriculture class one day, still trying to figure out what to do with this ticket. From out of the blue, this guy I had been eyeing all semester approached me and asked me out. I jumped at the chance to go out with him and told him I had the perfect idea for our date. We agreed to meet and drive to the City together for the concert. We didn’t exchange numbers or anything, so I got nervous, thinking he would stand me up. But lo and behold, he came. We made the trek to OKC together and had an amazing night. We drank way too much, danced, sang, and got to know one another. And then I made an ass out of myself. I got so drunk that I made him pull over on the side of the turnpike so I could throw up. And I’m pretty sure I popped a squat and peed in the median. It was bad.
When we got back to where we had met up, he told me that I was in no condition to drive (obviously). He told me that he had an extra room at his house and that I was welcome to crash there until I could drive the next morning. And here’s where I’m so glad this guy wasn’t a serial killer because in my drunken stupor, I agreed. He took me to his place, tucked me into bed, then left me alone the rest of the night. Even that drunk, I realized he was a pretty great guy for not trying to take advantage of me. It wasn’t until the next day that I learned that he did not have a spare room, he let me stay in his bed while he slept on the couch. He then drove me to my truck, gave me his number, and left.
I figured that this guy was too nice to be real. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I called him just so he had my number, but I didn’t persue it any more. Thankfully, he did. I heard from him every day after our first date. We were constantly together. I didn’t think I was ready for it after just ending the other relationship, but I just felt drawn to this man.
As I’m sure you all figured out, this date of mine is now my sweet, loving Hubby. He fell for me despite that fact that I became a raging drunk on our first date. He held my hair while I puked in the median of the road (and I’m pretty sure I puked on his boot). I don’t know what attracted him to me, but I’m so glad it did, as I have the best husband in the whole world!
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More stories to come about the antics my husband had to put up with while dating me….and more.
“Are you giving blood at the blood drive today?”
“Yeah. I’ve been trying to lose weight and I haven’t eaten in a few days, so I’m thinking I’ll lose a couple of pounds if I give blood.”
What I would give to see them scrape her skinny ass off the floor when she passes out!
1. When is Dora going to give up the map, get a GPS, and stop needing us to constantly repeat the directions? The episodes can be cut down to only a few minutes and we can all do without the shouting and staring.
2. When are Handy Manny and Kelly going to take their friendship to the next level? Am I the only one who notices the sexual tension there?
3. When is Ming-Ming from the Wonder Pets going to have to attend speech therapy?
4. Where are The Backyardigans’ parents and why do they let their kids play outside alone all the time? Plus, don’t they ever get tired of fixing snacks for all of those kids every damn day?
5. Why, why, WHY does Otis from Barnyard have udders when he is a BOY?!?
6. When is Diego going to encounter a rain forest animal that ISN’T friendly? Odds are, he should have been eaten by something by now.
As I was sitting in the living room last night, enjoying a bowl of popcorn and some DVR, our power suddenly went out. And ever since last December and the ice storm, I’m terrified of losing power. I’ve got this irrational fear the the power will stay out forever.
So I lit a few candles and settled in for some reading in the dark, when I heard noises upstairs. I’m sure these noises are normal old house sounds that I just can’t normally hear over the hum of the fridge and the waterfall sounds of the fish tank. But my creative mind went crazy. I just knew someone had cut my power off and now they were upstairs, waiting to attack me. A look outside showed me that my neighbors had power, which further fueled my fear. I decided to act all brave and get my handgun, when in reality I’d do better pistol-whipping someone than actually shooting where I aim.
I called The Hubby at work. He’s laughing at me, but told me it’s smart to have the gun nearby if it makes me feel safe. I tell him I want a hip holster so that I can feel like an old west gunslinger. He realizes he married a crazy woman.
I call the electric company. The assure me that someone is on their way to check it out, but they don’t know how long we will be without power since they don’t yet know the problem. I resign myself to the fact that it’s 11:00 and I can sleep through the power outage, rather than sit around and wait. But first I decide to do a bad police drama-style search of the house. My 9mm and I stormed into every room, ready for a fight. And of course there was nothing
As I got in bed, I called The Hubby again to give him the update. While we were talking, the power decided to come on, go off, come on, go off….you get the idea. But I sounded like an episode of Family Guy: Yay! It’s on….ohhhh off…..ON!…..off…..on!….still on!….ohhhhh off. It took awhile, but we finally had power back before I went to sleep. In the dark.
Since we are still working on our house remodel, we produce a lot of trash. Since our trash pickup will only collect one can full each week, I have started burning what I can and we trash the rest. This has become somewhat of an obession for me, as I’m somewhat of a pyromaniac. There’s something about fires that intrigues me — I guess it’s my inner cavewoman. But as I was burning today, I had something happen that I had never before experienced.
As I was lighting the fire, something fell out of the burn barrel. I scooped it up before it could cause a grass fire and threw it back in. As I continued to mess with the fire, I felt the heat on my legs. I was thinking to myself that I never remembered it putting off such heat, but I shrugged it off and continued to my task. Finally the heat became unbearable and I stepped back, only to realize that the left leg of my pants was on fire!
I kicked a few times, trying to see if it would die out easily. It didn’t. I wound up ripping my pants off, running to the nearby water spigot, and dousing myself, my pants, and the ground with water. Apparantly when the little bit of debris fell out, it ignited dry lawn clippings without me realizing it. Thankfully I was able to get my pants off quickly before too much damage was done, but my left foot got a pretty good burn. I was hoping I could avoid a doctor’s visit, but now, a few hours after the fact, the pain is getting pretty bad. I have the feeling I might be in the doctor’s office before all is said and done.
So while it was one of the scariest things that’s happened to me lately, I can sit and laugh about it now. Because if our closest neighbor happened to be outside at the time, he got quite a view of me, stripping off my flaming pants and running for the hose!
Outside of my front door live some of my most bitter enemies. And I’ll be damned if they haven’t got the best of me.
About a month ago, I noticed a bunch of big bumblebees hanging out around our front porch. While I can handle a lot of insects, I don’t do anything with stingers. And by that I mean that I run the other way. And scream. I’ve seen the news stories about people in Oklahoma dying from killer bee stings because the people thought they were just bumblebees. And I’m positive we’re hosting a bunch of killer bees. Don’t try to convince me otherwise.
Anyway, these bees have apparantly taken up residence under our porch. During the day, they go about their normal bee activities, totally ignoring The Hubby and Squeaks. But me? They smell my fear. And they’ve got a mission to take me down. There is one huge ass bee (I think he’s the mob leader — of maybe it’s a she, since the women hold all the power in bee land) that literally stands guard at our front steps. It hides behind the railing, letting anyone pass until it’s my turn. Then when it gets its little bee eyes on me, it comes charging. And I’m totally letting it win.
One day The Hubby asked me to grab something off of the porch for him. I stood at the steps for a good 3 minutes, waiting for the perfect opportunity to get past the guard. Once I saw my opening, I literally flew up the steps, tripping at the top and rolling the rest of the way across the deck. And that wasn’t a one-time occurrence. The neighbors love to laugh at me as I explode across the porch, running from a bee so small that they can’t even see from their yard.
There have even been days that I let them win. I just go in the back door to avoid confrontation. There are only so many bruises that my legs can handle, you know? The Hubby just laughs at me all the time, telling me that they’re just bees and that I can outsmart them. But I think he’s wrong. These are super genius bees. Not only that, but they laugh at me. Little bee laughter.
They’ll get what’s coming to them. You wait and see.
Squeaks and I went to visit my mother today. When we all went out to run errands, we decided to take Mom’s car, as it’s cleaner and get better gas mileage. She has a carseat she bought so that we don’t have to constantly change seats out, so it was so problem to go in her car.
We drove around Mom’s semi-small town for awhile in order to get to this little store where they sell the kind of bear that Squeaks is so freaking attached to. (We needed another backup, as she left the last one outside and the dogs sacrificed it or humped the stuffing out of it or something.) Anyway, when I went to get Squeaks out, my heart literally dropped — while she was buckled into the car seat, the seat WAS NOT BUCKLED IN! We had been riding all around while she was buckled into a seat that could fly out the window at any minute! Thankfully my mom’s nearing 60, so she doesn’t drive that fast!
She apologized over and over and explained that my dad must have taken it out and never strapped it back in when he put it back. I told her it was my fault for not checking — I’m the one who buckled her in! I can’t believe I did that. Oh well, thankfully nothing happened and she didn’t get hurt. But you can bet that I’ll always be checking from now on!
Squeaks and I were buying groceries this morning when I ran into this woman that I just wanted to kick in the crotch (it might not hurt as bad as racking a guy, but we women know that a shot to the crotch hurts pretty damn bad). She was on the snack aisle with her son who was probably 3, mayber an older 2. She asked him which snack he wanted and he chose a Dora the Explorer cookie of some sort. That’s when all hell broke loose. She started yelling, “DORA IS FOR GIRLS! YOU’RE A BOY AND YOU DON’T PLAY WITH GIRL SHIT! DO YOU WANT ME TO BUY A DAMN BABY DOLL WHILE WE’RE HERE?”
I literally stared at her with my mouth hanging open. Then, the boy started crying because his mom was yelling at him and she yelled at him to “Shut the hell up or I’m taking you to the bathroom to beat your ass”. I just wanted to go hug the poor boy and show him some love that he’s obviously not getting. Who does that to their child?
I’m still just infuriated. What’s wrong with a boy eating Dora cookies? And why teach him that playing with dolls is for girls? God forbid he grow up to be a nurturing father. I’m sick of all of these stereotypical standards for kids. Squeaks loves to use her tools to help Daddy remodel the bathroom, she loves to play football, and she loves to wear Daddy’s boots. But there’s nothing wrong with that. She’s bonding with her Daddy, but then she’ll go into her room and rock all of her Backyardigans stuffed animals to sleep. That’s right, my girl is a jack of all trades AND she kicks ass at it.
Last week I got to pretend I was really cool by driving a brand new Dodge Charger. My BIL leased one a few months back and has a limit on mileage he can put on it. Since he works out of town, he’s already put quite a few miles on, so we’ve been switching vehicles everytime he goes on an out-of-town job. Before he left, he warned me that people will constantly ask about the car and stare at it. Boy was he right.
One morning I was at the gas station when a man started up a conversation with me about the Charger. He loved it and kept raving about it. So when it came time to leave, I decided to act all bad-ass and really show him what the car had. One problem: I’m used to driving a standard transmission and this car is an automatic. As I was rolling back in reverse, I threw the stick up and left (my normal 1st geat). Instead of hauling ass out of there, I came to a screeching halt — I had put the car in park!
While I put my head in my hands and laughed, everyone else at the gas station laughed with me! I felt like such an idiot! No more showing off in that car for me.
The worst part? Squeaks was with me and she laughed at me, too.
