I Wanna Talk About Me

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Savannah, Georgia, United States
As you can see, I am still just me. 27 years old, born and raised in Savannah, Georgia. Almost 9 years into a relationship with the man I gave my heart to. We are the proud parents of 3 dogs and 2 cats. You will see them all here, a lot. I lost my mother November 18, 2008. I am now struggling to live life without her, but I have an amazing boyfriend and fantastic friends to help me through. Oh, and Duct Tape is the best invention. EVER.

Monday, March 30, 2009

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…


  1. Gawd, your photographer IS awesome. I particularly love my cig vs blister comparison. HEY, speaking of...I am out of cigs, can I bum one?!

  2. HOLY SHIT! That blister is HUGE! For fucks sake are you trying to kill yourself before the cat eats you?

  3. Jess, yes she is. And she has a great rack.

    Kat, maybe that is it...I unconsiously know that my cat will end my life so I am trying to off myself before ahe gains anymore weight. Brilliant!

  4. Damn!

    I love using the cig as a measurement tool.

    Hee, hee. I said tool!

  5. She-yat! Get rid of that heating pad, it's trying to kill you!