Awards!!!

I got stuff!!!! I love stuff. And Kat, I’m sorry about forgetting about the award you gave me. See, the thing is, I am still relatively new to this here blogdom and I have to ask Jess what to do with things sometimes. In which she tells me, “follow the rules, tard.” So…..Thanks to Kat at 3 Bedroom Bungalow for this funktastic Kreativ Blogger award!

And to Beavertwat Cootermonger—I mean Jess, at This Life is Mine, for this Dope Blog award.



Thank you to both of these lovely ladies. Now on to these rules.

For the Kreativ Blogger award there are two rules, list 6 Things that Make me Happy and tagging 6 Bloggers. I can totally do this!!

Ok, 6 things that make me happy...I guess I can’t name all 6 of my dogs and cats, huh? That would be totally unfair to Redbird. He would be left out. So…

1. My dogs.
2. My cats.
3. Master Wog.
4. NOT doing laundry.
5. Duct Tape.
6. Gardenias.

Yes, I am that simple. (Usually.)

And, 6 bloggers…ok, well, ummm….being that I am still a baby blogger, I will only do….1. OK, Ok, 2.
(As Jess just informed me that nothing happens if I break the rules, so now that I don’t have to worry about the sneaky PC ninja jumping out and popping my blister, here I go)

1. Ivy at This Is Ivy…Naked because it took me a month of fussing at her to write again, and it worked! And I lurve her.
2. Kris Posman at Weather She Wrote, because she is the local Meteorologist, she has no idea I exist and she is hot. Don’t be jealous because MY weatherwoman has a blog and YOURS doesn’t.

And Jess told me I could.

Thanks again gals!!

Come on baby light my fire

I think I am accidentally trying to maim myself. I have been un intentionally beating the shit out of myself over the last week. It all started last Thursday.

I had gotten home from work and my dogs had decided to eat Italian for dinner. The somehow managed to get the bottle of garlic powder off of the counter, eat the top off and sprinkle it all over the floor in the living room. All we needed is some parmesan and Redbird was going in the oven.

So, I proceed to arm myself with our new suckfabulous Dirt Devil Cone, and suck up the garlic. While I’m at it I decide to go ahead and vacuum up the fur ball critters that accumulate at every corner in our house. Then I decide, fuck it, while I am down here, I might as well glean the hair off of the air filter (yes, we ARE that ghetto). I lift up the ancient grate and proceed to suck up the hair, while I am doing this, all of the sudden, my sugar starts to drop. I immediately stand up and go straight to the kitchen to get a cookie or a coke or something so I don’t keel over.

I turn the corner to the kitchen and go to grab a glass, break the glass on the stove, yell at the dogs to get out of the kitchen, and clean up the glass. By this point, I am uber wobbly and need sugar. The first thing I grab is chocolate chip cookies. I munch out for a minute and get my sugar to a safe level and get ready to go back to cleaning. Wog calls me (from the driveway) and asks me to come help him….I turn the corner and BAM!! Into the furnace intake I go. The opening is about 2x3 feet and 3 feet deep.

I only wish this picture did my bruise justice. The bruise starts at my ankle and goes up to my knee.


See, in the midst of my diabetic dilemma, I forgot to put the grate back down. Yeah. I am an idiot.

It gets better though.

Saturday night we all went out to celebrate my cousin, Catie’s birthday. It was fabulous. We get home, go sleepy sleep. I awake several times with this pain in my right leg (the bruise from the Furnace Fiasco on my left). I thought to myself, “damn, did I bruise that leg too?” It finally starts hurting to the point where I have to get up and pee. Because, for some strange reason, pain makes me urinate. I flip on the light in the bathroom and to my horror, there is a blister the size of a Grade A Large Egg on my right shin.

What. The. Fuck.

I flip out. What did I do? How did I burn myself? IS this a burn? Then I realize I fell asleep with my heating pad on. I do this occasionally, especially on cold nights. I always keep it on low and never, EVER has it burned me before.

I must have done something to piss off the heating pad gods because they got me good. This is what I woke up to yesterday morning. Take a look.


And today, it has nearly doubled. I would like to thank my photgrapher, Jess, for being such a good friend, as she took pictures in awe.








I also have a knot on my head from where I had to get out of the car and go to the ATM as it started hailing. But we SO won't go there.

Luckily, I am still here. And still breathing. And yet I still make myself wonder…

Stop, Collaborate and Listen

Well, hello again! I have been a wee tad bit out of it for the last week or so. Don't worry, Kat, my cat did not eat me. But she tried. My dad and I have been working on getting all of the Probate paperwork done for mom. Handling her finances and threatening to murder her creditors. If it isn’t one thing, it is another. The only good thing to come of this paperwork and such, is that I am inheriting a small amount of money. Nothing significant, but enough to put a new roof on our leaky shack we call home, and put a privacy fence in the back yard.

My mom had an IRA, which mainly consisted of stocks. My sister and I are the beneficiaries on it. I opted to give up the majority of my %50 to my sister (who is 15 and has some minor learning disabilities) to be put into her own IRA for her college education. My dad gave me the idea, which I thought was fantastic and exactly what my mom would have wanted.

The beauty of this all is that whenever I found myself in a financial bind, my mom was always there to help me. For a long time, I really felt as if I depended on her to pay certain bills. I know that this was not the right way to think but I was young and (financially) stupid. In the last year or so before she passed, she basically put a stop to that. Saying “you dug this hole, now YOU get out of it”. And Damned if I didn’t.

Lately Master Wog and I have been trying very hard to save up the money for our new roof. We have been successful, sort of, but then something came up and we had to steal about 1/3 of the money out of our savings to pay for.

Anyway, what I was getting to is that I almost feel like in some strange way, mom planned this, she knew that this money, no matter the amount, would go to good use. She knew that after she passed, I would be a lost little puppy, looking for a way home. And somehow she managed, even after death, to be there for me. Mom was just the bomb like that ;)

In other news, I have been really, really having a heard time dealing with just life in general lately. Every time I run into a problem, whether it be at home, at work, with a friend, I have the urge to pick up the phone and call mom. I find myself really needing her advice right now. So, I chose to, instead of sit in my bed and wallow, clean the living fucking shit out of my house. And may I just say, WOW. Strange how good things happen when you are put you mind to it. My floors are SO SHINY it is amazing. (I have unsealed hardwood floors in my house, it is difficult to keep them clean, much less shiny and pretty, so you can see where a shiny floor would make me happy).

I also started baking again. I know, me? A baker? Weird. But I do love to cook and especially bake sweet things. Don’t worry, I don’t eat much of it, I wouldn’t want all of my lovelies out in blog world to think I am going into diabetic shock or anything. I just make Wog eat all of it. Hehe.

Another thing I am looking to start doing again is drawing and writing. I did both quite frequently years ago, but stopped when mom got sick. I think getting creative again will help me focus on positive things, like creating something form nothing. That and I will have more cool drawings to put on my wall. I’ll get a picture tomorrow of my treasured Tiger. One of the first and best drawings I have ever done.

Ok, I’ll stop with the rambling nonsense now. I’m off to browse shingles!!

Wait, Jess just told me that her family friend Luke passed away this morning. And the other gentleman, Bucky, passed yesterday morning. Keep their families and friends in your thoughts today, and maybe say a little prayer for them. I know I will be.

And you think you have problems?

So, I have 3 cats. Flea and Sid, the two gay lovers, and Kitty. The GIANT one. As a full grown cat, she used to be cute and tiny and petite, now, not so much. We found her behind Kroger when she was only a few weeks old. We didn't plan to keep her, but it just kind of happened. After we had her lady bits removed, she BLEW THE FUCK UP.

She tried to run out the back door yesterday morning, it was more of a waddle…she got to the end of the steps (there is only 4) and turned and looked at me like “I did it!” Funny thing is, when she tried to run, she couldn’t. Stupid fat ass cat.

These pictures just do not do it.


This is when she was cute and petite...

And now she is fat. Jess helped me model her.

Duke did too.

And Kane. Aren't they helpful!

Where, oh where, has my sanity gone?

I wrote a while ago about a few little fuckheads shooting at each other on front of my house. Now, that crap has escalated, and I am out to stab people with rice paddles.

Friday afternoon, the house across the street from us was robbed. Fortunately, the couple and their baby were not home, but the burglar beat one of their two dogs with a fire extinguisher. And then sprayed them both with it. In January, a house, 2 houses down from ours, was robbed. TWICE.

I have always felt safe with my dogs at home. They let me know any time a leaf falls off a tree, or when the mail has come, or when there is a strange cat in the alley behind our house. But now, knowing that there is some fucker out there who will beat a dog to steal a tv….I’m terrified. Take my TV, please don’t hurt my dogs. You can take the cats. Just don’t hurt the dogs. You can even have the bird, the cats and the huge box of Ramen noodles I have had for the last 3 years. On second thought, take the bird, leave the cats and dogs, and I’ll give you a DVD player…it works, I swear it does.

I was really upset about this whole thing. Thankfully, no one was hurt, the dogs will be ok, but this poor family was violated. I know now that he has a gun, a big one. And so does Master Wog. Now we have both sides of the street covered.

Anywho….

I wanted to tell you guys about a really special person in my life. She and I have worked together for the last 3 years. She has become a huge part of everything I do. Even if she is a wanker and doesn’t like to hang out with Jess and I, I love her dearly. We shall call her Lilbit.

This girl is amazing. When mom was sick, she was my shoulder. When Master Wog and I start having trouble or when I make a bad decision she is always there to set me straight. I sincerely do not know what I would have done without her guidance. Well, I would probably be a drunk living under a bridge.

She did something for me after mom passed. Something I never expected. She put together a beautiful gift for me. she took the last paragraph from mom’s eulogy and put it in a frame, along with her birth and death dates, and a picture of a shooting star (actually she later told me it is a plane, but it looks like a shooting star…so, shh, no one knows…) I cried like a little baby when she gave me this. In a million years, I would have never expected someone to do something like this for me.

The picture is on my mantle and will stay with me forever. I love you, Lilbit. Even though you smell funny.

I promise that the frame is not dirty. Even though it looks to be. I even dusted it before taking these pics so that it wouldn't look dusty...

FYI, the pic to the left is of my sister, my mother and I.

Oh Squiggly Line

I was outside smoking a cigarette with Jess a while ago, when, for some reason, we started talking about 'floaters' in the eye. I have seen floaters for years and they have recently gotten worse with the cataract in my right eye. Now everyone ignores me when I am trying to hit the 'bug' that just flew by my head. Yah, um, there was no bug. Every time I look at a beautiful blue sky all I can see are little squiggly fucking lines. We talked about how they float in, and then they float out, and how I can never focus on one because they run away. After laughing about me being a dipshit, saying they look like birds, or planes...or Superman, Jess sends me the following quote:

"Oh, squiggly line in my eye fluid. I see you lurking there on the periphery of my vision. But when I try to look at you, you scurry away. Are you shy, squiggly line? Why only when I ignore you, do you return to the center of my eye? Oh, squiggly line, it's alright, you are forgiven."

— Stewie Griffin, 2007 "The Tan Aquatic", Family Guy.

Gotta love that girl.

Sometimes there really is a silver lining to the darkest cloud, either that or I have mastered making fun of myself.

I was looking for the video of Stewie on youtube, and instead, found this guy. As stupid as it is, it still made me giggle....

The roof, the roof, the roof is---leaking again...

Holy sheep testicles have I been out of it for the last week or so. Master Wog and I have been oh so close to stabbing each other in the jugular with a dirty diabetes infected needle. Thankfully, we are better now. I am back to stabbing with a steak knife, a clean one.

We live in Savannah, in a wee bitty 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom house. Every time we have a storm come through, we take turns counting shingles in the backyard. We have a leak in the master bathroom ceiling and it is always my job to align the pot underneath it and pray that THIS TIME the roof won’t fall in. I think when they built the house back in the 40’s they used grass as insulation. We can never keep the house cold OR hot. NEVER. And it smells funny, that may be because of the 6 furred and 1 feathered animal we have, but who’s counting…We have been almost desperate to get the fuck out of this house for the last year. It seems once we fix one thing, something bigger and more expensive breaks. We spotted ninja mice in our attic, I think they are smart enough to know NOT to go into the house, they travel from the crawlspace underneath the house, to the tree right behind it and plop into the attic. (Fun Fact: Wog put some rat poison stuff up there to kill the little bastards a few months ago, when he went to go check it, both trays with poison in them were gone, they totally dee-boed our shit. Now I know that they are smart like that, I considered actually feeding them, I was all, but honey, they are cool! WTFever.)

Anywho, a few weeks ago we got an advertisement on the front door from one of those ‘We’ll Buy Your House’ companies. At first, I wanted nothing to do with it. Wog talked to them and he finally convinced me to meet with them. I did. Everything sounded great. It seemed this was exactly what we have been looking for. They would buy our POS house and in turn build us one. We would have enough equity in our house to pay off our debt. Basically a fresh start. Except that our monthly mortgage payment would double. Yeah, like, whoa.

So for the last 2 weeks Wog and I have been asking friends and family what we should do. Writing up budgets to see if we could afford it. As it turned out we could, sort of. He and I were almost ready to sign the papers…and I think mom must have come down and clocked me in the back of my head with her celestial cane because all of the sudden, I was like, wait a tic…I don’t fucking think so.

Why stretch ourselves, we are comfortable with our mini zoo in our wee bitty house. We are doing well financially, and are able to pay all of our bills and go out if we want. Our neighbors are…well, lets not get into that quite yet… We can deal with the neighbors. If we save up over the next 6 months or so, we can put a new roof on the house, fix the leak and put up a privacy fence in the backyard to contain the beasts. So, why leave now.

My main concern, as a woman, was kids. Yes we don’t even have any yet and the little bastards are making decisions already. I DO NOT want to raise a family in the neighborhood or house we are in now. I was thinking a new house, different county, better schools…but then Jess reminded me I have 3 years of birth control implanted between my bicep and tricep. AND that in 3 years, our car will be paid off. We would be in a much better place, financially, to start popping out little bearded wonders.

And that was it. Master Wog and I discussed and decided that it would, in fact, be better for us to wait. So we are. And after constantly worrying about the shit for the last 2 weeks, we are over it. Now we are able to focus on the problem at hand (the roof), start saving and in a few months throw a new one on.

I am 24 years old. I have been in a serious relationship for over 5 years. Had the same job for over 3 years. We bought our house when I was 21 and he was 22. How many people my age do I know who can say that…not many. We are doing damn good for ourselves. I am proud of the things that we have acquired over those last 5 years, included my mini zoo. We are happy. And as my good friend Magan told me, ‘bigger is not always better’. (When you are talking about houses, of course).

Now that that is out of the way, I’m pregnant! Kidding. No wee ones for us yet. But I did want to show your guys a cool ass picture I took the other night. This is our king size bed, on any given night, when we are watching TV. I would have it no other way.

This is 4 of the seven furred beasts, watching American Idol with me.