Thursday, December 27, 2012

Dear Baby,

You are loved. First and foremost, love is what your father and I have for you. He loves you more than me, I'm pretty sure of it. I'm okay with it as long as you both don't gang up on me and call me names. But anyway, we love you. I want so many things for you. I want to protect you from all the hate in the world. I want you to dye your hair green and openly take your girlfriend to prom. (If you have girlfriends) I want you to stand up for the weak hearted and stand tall to the weak minded.

You are the next generation. You will be the captain of your own ship. I won't know your every emotion unless you express them to me. Please, express your emotions. I hope you learn to accept others even if they don't accept you. I want you to climb mountains and dive into the deepest seas. I want you to be better than I ever was. I look forward to holding you as you sleep and then chasing you down once you learn how to use your feet.

No matter how far you travel in this world I want you to know that you can always call Mom and Dad to pick you up. If you are anything like we were during our teen years a 3am phone call asking us to pick your drunk ass up won't be too far fetched. Lying will get you into the most trouble, truth will allow for less consequences (If any) to come your way.

Now, I must tell you about the world you're about to enter. The world is an ugly, fantastic place... Filled with demons and hidden unicorns. Hopefully you will also befriend a Queen or two. (They are fabulous friends indeed) The food is everlasting and always go for the local eateries over the chain restaurants. There is war, there will always be war. There is famine and starving children, there is sadness and suicide. Death is always closer than you imagine. Gravity is a science I hope you learn to appreciate, along with all the amazing science you I hope you want to prove (or disprove).

Even with all the nastiness in the world, I hope you will see the beauty around you. I hope to teach you the beauty of the world amongst all the sadness. I hope your new eyes see the world as a challenge rather than a burden. As you wiggle around in my belly I hope you someday appreciate the life that has been given to you. You have a couple more months to kick box in my belly and I hope you are able to be strong and take that first breath that leads into many million more. If you are able to join us out here, I'd really love to meet you and get to know you.

Love and kisses,
Your Mommy <3 p="p">

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Merry STFU

Pregnant Log
[
Pregnant: 26wks]
[
Mood Swings: bitchbitchbitch.]
[Cravings: Sweets, cereal, and chicken!]




Friday is Christmas day!!! What? Didn't you know that??

Okay, so maybe it's only Christmas Day for my new little family. I decided that since we're doing christmas in FL with Hubby's grandparents then we should do one just us before we go and within our schedule. Nothing too fussy, just exchanging of gifts and he gets to use his new fryer he bought for thanksgiving. We're just doing a chicken instead of a turkey and invited some people over to partake in said food and someone that Hubby can drink with since I cannot. (Very sad face, I can't wait to not be preggosauras.)


My mom gave us a tree complete with decorations. I've bought all that I'm going to for Hubby... he's difficult to shop for and it's hard enough for me to contain myself and not make him open everything up already. (Last night I forced him into opening one of this gifts... it was cologne. Every morning he'd huff and puff and take forever deciding what to do because he's low on the ones he has.) Today he got to put on his new bottle of Mont Blanc Legend. I even checked up on him today and he was wearing it and still liked it! Score! Now for him to open the rest of his presents and hopefully have the same outcome...

I haven't bought gifts of anyone else. Nope... no one. Luckily, I'm not seeing my family until Feb and we aren't seeing his until Jan. We have a couple extra weeks... but I'm just taking it as it goes. I'm trying to focus on my stresses. Currently, swapping hospitals is my top priority. I'm not feeling so keen on my current one and today a customer came in raving about a hospital Hubby has been rooting for.... so I took that as a final sign. I'm going for a tour tomorrow and will give an official word by the end of the day tomorrow! Hopefully it will be a clean switch. I may get my tub birth after all.



BabyG is moving a lot lately. It's surfacing in my dreamstate. Last night I had this horrible dream about being possessed by a demon and I murdered a couple people by slicing their heads off with these knew knives my MIL sent us as a wedding gift. Well, the people I murdered in my dream were also possessed by demons and somehow by my slaying them I was freed of the demon that was possessing me... It was a weird, stressful dream that left me exhausted all day long. I woke up a couple times just to make sure I was in fact in bed and reality was in deed better than my horrific nightmare. She's a night baby. I was worried because she hasn't been moving around that much the last few days but it dawned on me that she's doing all of her moving while I'm snoozing. Unless I stay up 24/7 it will be hard to be 100% sure. She also likes to nap while I'm moving, the more motionless I am the more movement she pumps out so I think my movement puts her to sleep during the day.

Also, I hate christmas music. "Frosty the Snowman" and "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause" makes me want to punch kittens. Poor, adorable, defenseless, kittens. Two of our stores are stuck on christmas music. Just christmas music. I've heard the top seven christmas songs over twenty dozen times. Yes, twenty dozen... a baker's dozen, even.



Friday, December 7, 2012

Being Heard

Pregnant Log
[
Pregnant: 24wks]
[
Mood Swings: I cry, I cry, I cry again.]
[Cravings: CheddarBo Biscuits from BoJangles!!!!!] That I can't have because there aren't any Boj's in Louisana!! *extreme grump*





There isn't anything distinctly that prompted me to write this blog, other than I have been writing a blog in my head almost every day for two weeks now. It's way past due. 

I've been thinking a lot about how far along I am and that BabyG can hear everything around me now. Mainly, me, I know. That's a lot of pressure. I'm scared she's going to come out cussing and spitting out cellphone information. I've started listening to more music as well as specific types more than others. I told myself for years if I was pregnant I would listen to nothing but beautiful classical pieces with an abundance of stringed instruments and I would birth a Mozart.... Realistically it's just been a bunch of indie and non-english speaking music. This baby will be cultured, dammit! I know she can feel the pulses more than the actual music so I've also listened to a share of dubstep. I can tell she can hear Dubstep the most because she moves around the most when I'm listening to it. Mommy's little raver. Hopefully she will be like mommy and be able to celebrate beats and bright lights without partaking of an abundance of drugs. Oxygen and positive energy in a room has always been good enough for me. Get enough happy, dancing people in a room and I will be in the middle of the crowd handing out glow sticks like Mardi Gras beads. 

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

"We are so domestic." Hubby said to me the other day. 
"And?" I quickly asked back.
"I mean, we're super domestic. Like, stay at home and watch TV in between daily chores kind of domestic." He insisted.
"Is that bad?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"I didn't even notice when it happened but I'm completely okay with it." He mused.
"Well, I sure as hell hope you are, because we're about to get even more domestic." I say, motioning to my swollen belly. 

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

 I am going to start with the being aware of how risky it is to talk about marital problems at all, much less on the internet. So I am attempting this subject with caution and extreme neutrality... for the sake of telling all of my internet blog stalkers. 

Communication is key. It is the proverbial glue that holds a relationship together. People start with trust, lust and various other things, but for me... it's communication. Obviously. Words play a major part of my life. I want to be able to communicate with the person I'm with and have them communicate right back. Word exchange to me is very much like playing a game of War. You have to artfully use each card and hopefully you end up with the most cards, or no cards... depending on how you deemed the winner. 

So, basically, Hubby and I have a communication hurtle. I like to talk a lot about my issues, and he would rather us not. Any time I express a passionate idea to him I can see the distress in his face and can almost hear the loud rattle in his head as he tries to figure out a decent approach without making me more angry/upset. It's so loud in his head and his lips remain motionless. Somewhere between his brain and his lips the English words get lost and he simply just looks at me, dumbfounded and a bit uncomfortable. Sometimes I back him up into a man corner with my woman issues. I say it like that simply because no matter how equal I want our sexes to be, our brains work in very different ways. For many years I spoke of my manly mind with much pride, being pregnant has slaughtered any amount of manliness I thought I ever had. The simplicity is gone, the cocky self-assurance has taken a long vacation... and most of all, sadly... that little guy that would say, "Whoa, whoa! That's some girly whiny shit right there. Don't you say a word!" has fled the scene.

It's not just one specific thing we struggle to communicate with either, it's various things that I clump together at once and it's hard for him to follow which thing I'm really concerned about at that particular moment. We aren't at a stand still with this either, I can tell we are both figuring out how to approach this hurtle. It's the square peg we are trying to fit in the circle hole. Slowly, we are sanding off the edges to make it fit. It's just frustrating. I can only speak for me, though. I'm blaming it on being pregnant, but I think this is an ex history thing. [I think] he feels like I am attacking him when I am expressing something that is bothering me when actually I'm just trying to let him know. I want him to say, "Now that's just crazy." Or "Shut up, you're beautiful." or even, "I'm sorry." (Even if he needs to apologize or not. Sometimes it's just nice to be apologized to... even if it's misplaced guilt.) Mainly, how we've been dealing with this is I am sobbing while he holds me and I can feel him holding his breath, trying to decide which direction to head. Neutrality is safe, so he stays motionless. I feel unheard and brushed off, or even like he doesn't care at all. 

"I'm not like them. I actually care about you and do love you. I don't like being blamed for your exes." He's said more than once. For the most part he follows it too, we've celebrated the freedoms we allow each other that our previous exes had not allowed us. Being pregnant has stirred up all of my past bullshit and mistakes and faces I'd rather not see again. My dreams run rampant with him leaving me, me reliving not so glorious moments with previous relationships and many mornings I wake up regaining my barrens again and realizing it was only a dream. All day I have those bad dreams playing in the back of my head tugging at my emotions and convincing me things that aren't in reality. I know he loves me, I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. The way he reaches for me when we're sitting on the couch. He loves me in every action he does. I know this. I can feel it. Our problems aren't big, we don't fight. No matter how many times I tell myself this I find myself sobbing at the thought of him leaving. He hasn't given me any reason to be suspicious of his actions or even question how he feels about me. 


*exhale*

Now that I've aired some dirty laundry, I guess I can peace out. All of my qualms are textbook pregnancy paranoias. I've read about them all over the babybump forums and in my pregnancy app... and in my pregnancy book.

So why???

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Appreciation Day

Let's face it, the original Thanksgiving was new Americans celebrating the fact that they were stronger than the Indians. Poor Indians. I won't go too far into the actual history of this holiday but I feel it is a disgrace to simply overlook such details.

Anyway, everyone is posting statuses on fb about things they are thankful for, or appreciate about their lives. I felt a status would be far too short for my now very full life. All day I was thinking about last thanksgiving. I was newly homeless and living out of my car. My hours had just been dramatically cut at work and my romantic life was pretty much in the shitter. My sister had agreed to let me crash on her couch and half my stuff was in my hometown while the other half was being held hostage by gas prices three hours away. I didn't have a cellphone, was down to my last $20. My life had hit the ultimate rock bottom.
Funny how holidays really make you reflect on your existence like that. I had to be around my entire family and tell them I had failed at life. I had truly given up on life. I picked up an old job at a sandwich shop and started casually dating out of desperation.

I had cashed out on life. 

This thanksgiving I have an apartment, a cellphone, an amazing husband and a daughter on the way. We always seem to have food, gas and enough money for fun stuff too. Even as I sat in the bathroom this morning sobbing because I couldn't be with my extended family today it was hard to ignore the family I have created here. Hubby is everything I have ever wanted but never thought that I deserved. He supported me mentally before he ever needed to financially (even though he offered quite a bit).

Without Hubby and BFF I wouldn't have survived this long. They showed me what love is and what true family means. They have gotten me out of more situations than I'd care to admit. If there were subjects in which to give most thanks for it would be those two. (BFFs hubby by extention, they are both very wonderful people) They are the family I chose and that welcomed me when I felt the entire world had turned their backs to me. No matter how self wallowing and sob story I ever was to them they unfailingly were there for me. 
 
For that, I will forever be in debt to them and will always put then at the top of my "most thankful for" list.

I love you guys.
<3 br="">

Friday, November 9, 2012

Stop it, Pregnant Brain! You're emabarrassing me.

Pregnant Log
[
Pregnant: 20wks] Tomorrow hits 20wks
[
Mood Swings: Tears not anger]
[Cravings: BBQ sauce, salad & greens in general]


I have so much to write about that I've talked myself out of writing every time I get a chance.

We have cable now.
We got married.
I can feel the baby move.
>>>Politics.
I went almost a whole week without showering. (By accident)
I miss my BFF.
I've decided I suck at my job.
We haven't bought ONE THING for the baby.
I cry about everything... especially things that "don't matter". (TV commercials especially.)
My dreams are not pleasant.
[[ I'm not looking forward to Thanksgiving not surrounded by family. ]]


Just to list a few. My heartburn is out of control. October flew by... I mean... I blinked and the entire month was gone. Just gone. Poof. Vamu. I've played a lot of video games and we've watched A LOT of TV. I blame that. For as much time that I spend with Hubby I feel like we never see each other. It's not like we have friends we hang out without each other either. I keep waiting for that moment of reflection and the, "Omgwtfwheredidmylifego?!" but I have yet to have that settle in. I'm not sure if it ever will. I have had that pang of, "Without Hubby I would probably still be mooching off of my BFF and her family while trying to maintain the idea of martial bliss just isn't in the cards for me." as I go to bed wondering what Hubby is up to and scolding exes in my head for all the scandalous things I let them get away with.

My dreams have made me incredibly insecure... well, that and the fact that I've gained 15lbs. It doesn't help that I eat a bunch of junk food. Sometimes I just want to cry into cookie dough while watching Golden Girls on DVR. I haven't slowed down. I eat, I cook, I clean, I watch TV, I play Sims 3, I sleep, I eat, I clean, I watch TV-- and well, you get the picture.

I came home from work today and hopped in the shower and it felt like the first shower at home after two weeks in away camp. Seriously. That bad. I think the last time I took a shower was Monday? Maybe? Damn. I don't even have a kid to blame. Well.. not yet, anyway. Then I tried to recall my last week or so. What a big shiny blur that is. My back is killing me and I'm always starving.

That's all I can focus on: I'm fat, my back huuuurts and where is the food?

I keep telling myself just to go to the apartment gym and spend an hour on the stationary bike while I read a book and escape for a little while. I can't though-- I can't take a break from the world. Something isn't allowing me to. It took serious effort to slow down and just turn on music... I stared at the blank entry page for a good two hours before words started pouring out. I'm so distracted and pregnant brain. There is so much I want to do and get done and research... It's like I'm a 3 year old with serious ADHD during a light show. My BFF and sister said repeatedly, "Being pregnant makes me dumb." and I thought they were just making excuses.... BOY ARE THEY RIGHT!

I mean, I've never been the brightest light bulb but I'm no Paris Hilton. These days Paris Hilton looks brainy next to me. When I go into work and I get asked common questions about phones my brain just shuts off.

Wow, I suck at thoughts today.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

There's a baby in there!!!

Pregnant Log
[Pregnant: 16wks] I went to the doctor!!!!!!
[Mood Swings: Not so bad]
[Cravings: BBQ sauce, Tacos & Ice cream]



That's inside my belly right now. Oh. My. Gravy. That's legit. Can you believe it?! I know I sure didn't. For the last few nights I have had very vivid dreams of the ultrasound tech telling me that I had just gained a lot of weight and sending me home. I told the tech that and she laughed out loud and said, "No, You're very pregnant, look at that little baby." She did a lot of prodding and poking trying to get BabyG to turn and face us but to no avail. She did succeed in making me have to pee super bad and pissing the baby off. I swear BabyG swatted us away like a fly and curled up tighter. When she first spotted BabyG she was blowing bubbles and to me it looked like burps. (I say she but we don't know for sure.)

The baby was doing backflips and twisting around; doing basically anything she could turn away from us. I asked how I could possibly now feel all that movement and the ultrasound tech said it's because the baby weighs only four ounces right now and give it about three to four weeks and I will be certainly feel every movement. From how low she was in my pelvis looking for little BabyG I know why I have such low pelvic pains. "Yeah, that's got to be the baby kicking you. She's too light to feel like a kick but she definitely can make you feel a quick jabbing pain if she kicks out just right."

My phone has been ringing off the hook today. I sent a picture of one of the ultrasound pics to my mom, sister, MIL, SIL and BFF. Mom said she screamed really loud and jumped up and down and was at a client's house. Everyone ran to check on her and she waved the baby picture at them with excitement. Hah, priceless. I tried to call my Grandma and called my MIL back and both didn't answer. I'm so exhausted. After my ultrasound I saw the doctor and signed even more paperwork and answered a bunch of health questions about Hubby and I. I see the doctor, all my questions I had in my head were long gone. She does my pap smear and keeps asking me if I have any questions to which I am drawing a blank. She then gets me to sign even more paperwork and commends me for wanting to have "as natural as possible" birth.

I go to the lab and the lady stacks 8 viles next to me. "Are all of those for me?" I ask, the nurse smirks and says yes. It hurt so bad, I am squeamish of needles so I turned my head and the lady pumped blood out of me like an olympic star. It took her maybe a whole minute to get all of those little viles filled with my dark red blood. The needle she had stuck into my arm jiggled every time she switched viles. I winched with pain but got through it.

So it's official. I'm with child. There is no denying it now. I brought Hubby lunch and showed him the pictures. He was too busy for us to talk, so I ended up eating alone and he came over to peek at the ultrasound pictures. "Is it real yet?" He asked. I of course said yes. I guess I kind of had a little selfish slimmer of hope that they'd tell me I'm not pregnant so I could get wasted drunk for Halloween since we're throwing a really big party. Guess I can't get drunk after all.


Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Baby Killer

Pregnant Log
[Pregnant: Unofficially 13wks] Still haven't gone to the doctor yet, but I do have health insurance card now! Making an appointment for tomorrow, hopefully.
[Mood Swings: Off the Charts]
[Cravings: Chocolate Milk and Pumpkin EVERYTHING!]

First off, I want to say I'm in an insanely good mood right this second. I don't know if anything will happen in between the beginning and ending of this blog to ruin this splendeferous feeling I have... but let's hope not! I hopped up right when my alarm went off this morning (that never happens) took my first morning poop in what feels like months. What? It's a wonderful feeling to start with empty bowels for the day. You take that for granted now, but just wait until your uterus is clogged with baby. AND I tried out Dunkin' Donuts. Well, not tried it, but the first one in Louisiana sprang up in my neighborhood. I managed to get completely ready and be out the door a few minutes after 8am. That's an easy thirty minutes early. The drive-thru was packed, it is the second day it's been open, but I wanted to go in anyway to make sure they had the pumpkin treats. After a quick moving line and the lady behind me calling in late for work because "My son had something at his school with 4-H, that's why I'm late..." Not because she was getting DD or anything. I ordered my food, I felt like I was ordering for two and the cashier kind of raised an eyebrow at me. C'mon! It was just a breakfast sandwich and 5 munchkins! I've ordered more at a DD without having a baby to blame! But anyway... with the luck of my tiny car I weasled out of my parking spot and zoomed into work, with plenty of time to spare.

I haven't felt this great in over a week, maybe two. I want to say a month but I know that's an exaggeration. I've also started drinking coffee again. That has helped mentally a lot. I'm starting to see why people stick to their chemical addictions while pregnant. Well, on my own level. I'm drinking the milky "cappuccino" drinks at gas stations and a Coolatta from DD. I'm trying to refrain from my black coffee addiction. I'm deluting my sweet nectar of life with milk to appease the low brow, finger pointing society that tells me no. It's also one cup a day as oppose to two cups while I get ready and then a huge to-go cup for my morning, or an entire pot on my day off. I also gave it up for two whole months. I was dying and after my rough week last week, I caved and had one cup of cappuccino from a gas station. For five whole minutes (the beginning of the cup) I was in the garden of eden, scampering through with all my birdy friends. No, seriously, I had a moment. I also feel that way when I satisfy a pregnancy craving. I only ate two of my five pumpkin munchkins before I felt too full to continue (They will be a great snack later) I bit into one of them and it was like my hair was being blown in the wind, and I just won a trophy for being the most awesome being in the universe. It's odd to feel that way about food or, well, anything in particular. I've always had a very grounded, quite cynical, view about all things in life. It seems silly for me to be all adolescent-christmas-morning happy about food.

"I feel like food rules my life now," I said to one of my just-had-a-baby co-worker.
"Just wait, it's about to get worse." She laughed, without even looking up at me.


Now on to the less cheery subject. I was called a baby killer on facebook by a stranger on a mutual friend's page. Originally this entire blog was going to be about being called such a horrible thing, by a "Christian" no-less. But alas, I had such a great morning I couldn't create a whole negative, ranting, blog. It just didn't feel right. But, seriously, I do need to address this. I made a tweet about it so now I feel I need to do my full disclosure. 140 characters can be taken so wrong.

The great abortion debate. Even the word abortion feels funny, it creates grime on it's way out of my mouth as I speak it. It lingers in the back of ones mind at the thought of being pregnant. It's whispered about and spoken of in harsh tones. Rumors are started about unsuspecting females in middle and high schools, "She had an abortion." Abortion has the same negative connotation as intended by the individual that called me a baby killer. It's a medical term that has been twisted and disfigured by the ignorant and religious alike. Just as a racial slur, if you use the word the way the "enemy" does, it still holds that power. Just for the sake of this blog, I'd like to keep it as an unbias medical term.
 
Please and thank you.

Obviously I'm pro-choice. Me saying I'm pro-choice is what got me called a baby killer. Even as I sit here pregnant and my belly swelling by the day (or hour, geez) I am still very strong in my pro-choice stance. People, men especially are ignorant to the idea of how a pregnant lady can be pro-choice. Simple, I chose to stay pregnant, just as some of my friends have chose not to be. That doesn't make me any better than them or them any better than me. Different people, different situations, different decisions. I'd be just as mad if there were laws trying to be passed saying I couldn't have a kid and my only option was to abort. That is not allowing me a choice. O wow, I'm probably blowing some minds right now. A pro-choicer wouldn't stand for all pregnant women to be required to abort. Who would'a thought?! But seriously, why the fuck to pro-lifers believe that? What makes them think that? Who thought it would be great for humanity to pass the word that everyone that is pro-choice goes to a clinic once a week to abort a late term fetus. Idiots, that's who. Yes, I said it, IDIOTS. Okay, now I'm the one name calling... but it's to prove a point. 

Personally, I mean me, just me, Beth.... you know, the chick that is typing out these words right now. Exclusively me, I wouldn't get an abortion if I could help it. Honestly, there has been a couple pregnancy scares in my life that I would've cleaned out my bank account to fix the issue but as it stands right now, at twenty-five, with a loving significant other... I couldn't imagine myself going through that. Three years ago, we'd have a different discussion. Also, I've never been pregnant before now to make that choice before so that also leaves that gap of understanding that most people can't get past. I, on the other hand, have been friends with various people in various points in their lives. Yes, I have been very close with individuals that have had that nasty abortion thing that all these christians keep spewing lies about. To be honest, before I had known someone before they confessed this deep, dark secret of theirs I had my own igorance when it came to abortion. "No way, no how! Nu-uh. If you get pregnant it's meant to be! You need to carry that baby and just give it up for adoption!"

That short-sighted, ignorant and detrimental opinion was chipped away within the second my nervous best friend, at the time, from across the table said, "I've had an abortion before." My whole opinion quite literally folded in half and hid behind the nearest large object.

"Huh?" was all I could muster.
"Yeah, my mom actually paid for it. I was in college and wasn't practicing very healthy habits. Was into some bad stuff with a bad boy. You know, the usual... in with the bad crowd get in to deep before you realize how shitty it is?"
"Oh." I responded, still wanting her to continue the story.
"As soon as I found out I drove the couple hours it took to get to my parent's house and cried to my mom. My life was over, I wouldn't be able to finish college and that scumbag would be a part of my life, my family's life, for the rest of our lives. After some long conversation we all pulled some money together and as shitty as it sounds, I'm glad it happened. That baby didn't need him as a dad and at the time, I couldn't offer that baby much of anything and no one was really willing to help."
"Wow." I know I had that deer-in-headlights look.
"It's not something I boast about or anything, I mean, I don't go around and tell whoever. But yeah, I'm just glad I had that choice, ya know? Without that choice I'd probably would've just killed myself. I mean, I was super depressed and doing bad stuff and the guy I was with was cheating on me probably the same moment I took that damn test. I was super bad off, mentally-- I wouldn't have made a good decision on my own. I would've rather died than put up with that stress for the rest of my life."  

Don't judge my friend. She is one of many that has gone through similar things and kept it private because of the judging you just did in your head. I also hope I kept her story vague enough because it really is only her business. As she was telling me her story I played it out in my head, but instead of seeing her, I saw me in her scenerio. I kept trying to think, "Just keep the baby anyway," but for her in her situation, I could easily see why she made the decision she did. I'm not Zeus, I'm not God, I'm not Santa-- I can't decide who should be struck by lightening and who should get the pardon. Those types of decisions aren't meant for other people, they are only meant for those in those situations at that time. No one else.

With that same sentiment, I'm glad I'm able to keep my baby and no one is forcing me to give it up. I, also, am glad we live in a country that doesn't regulate births. I want females to have the same power they always have, simple as that. It's exactly like equalizing marriage. If you don't want to marry someone of the same sex, don't. If you don't want an abortion-- don't get one. Don't stop someone from doing something in their lives because it conflicts with your personal views about your life. There are a shit-ton of people on this earth. If you are so busy trying to control others you are going to lead a very unfulfilled life.

Definition of KILLER
1: one that kills
2: killer whale
3 a : one that has a forceful, violent, or striking impact
b : one that is extremely difficult to deal with

On a side note, I want to point out that I have never met a baby killer. I'm sure if I have I would have reported their dead body to the police after I killed them myself, in a bloody Psycho-style rage. The image I have in my head of a "baby killer" is some terrible ogre of a creature that makes his rounds at hospitals stabbing unsuspecting new borns as they sleep, or cry, or poop... as babies do. Just google "body of baby found." Those people, to me, are baby killers. Not someone who makes a personal decision in a clinic early in their first trimester. So tell me, which outcome do you feel more comfortable? Because let me tell you, if abortion is banned, there will be more dead babies in ditches, woods and dumpsters all around the states for those that couldn't handle it all. Not everyone is rational and responsible enough or can even afford an abortion as is is... and you want to live with making that harder for unhappy, out of their luck, mentally unhealthy expecting mothers?

Just think about that.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Trash Talk

This isn't about me being pregnant. Well, sort of, I'm sure my rage is coming from hormones. This is a rant. About... well, life. I was going to say work, because that's what sparked the idea for this blog but really it's life too.

Firstly, I want to rant about the trash at work. We work in three different stores. Each store is in a different Parish. But the location isn't what I'm complaining about, of course, as I previously mentioned the trash. I use to work at one location about four days out of my work week. Now I just work my weekends here. Saturdays mainly. All day. Which is okay, but every weekend is pissing me off... *clears throat* Okay, let me be pissed off about one thing before I go off on too many tangents. Okay. Trash. Stay focused, Beth! Trash.

Alright, well, last week I finally caught a sunday off and my boss took my shift. Well, that saturday when I worked before I remember noting the clusterfuck of boxes by the backdoor, on my way out. That sunday, my boss sent out a rather snarky group text to everyone to "take care of it." Which I found annoying, but that is basically how he handles most things so it's whatever. Well, here it is another Saturday and there is the original clusterfuck of boxes and addition of bags of trash thrown in on the boxes. Seriously? So, not only my boss sent out that snarky text he didn't bother to throw ANY of the trash out on his way out?! Even after he said, "It's twenty steps out the backdoor, it's not that hard." Umm, okay. If it's not that hard, why not grab a box or two on your way out? Really. Now, let me say this: I don't entirely blame him because there are numerous other employees that work at this location that could in fact, grab a box or two (if not all trash) on their way out. He also didn't ask me directly to throw it away, I took it upon myself because I didn't see it ever happening otherwise. It just burns me up.
So today, I took out the fucking trash. I took out the fucking trash. I'm going to say that again: I took out all of the fucking trash that I had nothing to do with. I didn't create it, I didn't leave it there, It happened while I was at another location. I took out someone else's trash at a place that I work. You know why? That is what being an adult is all about. Taking out the trash and for the most part, taking care of trash that we originally had nothing to do with. That is adulthood. Also, being proactive and not telling someone else to "take care of it" but, in fact, taking care of it yourself. I know it's no big deal, it's just trash. Not only that, it's trash I've taken care of. It's in the trash right now. I broke down the twenty boxes and stacked them up. I gathered the bags of trash that were piled on the boxes and walked outside, I opened the huge gate and threw everything away. It took me thirty minutes. It shouldn't have taken my thirty minutes. The trash shouldn't have accumulated to that extent. It's ridiculous but it's a done deal. That is thirty minutes of my life I will never get back because I work with lazy individuals.

Also, my fucking tooth is killing me. My face is swollen and I'm pretty sure I have the beginnings of a bruise where my tooth hurts. I have two more painful weeks before I can make a dentist appointment. It hurts to eat on that side. My allergies are running a muck. My nose is so dry, I have a painful sore in my nose too. I'm having trouble breathing. I'm scared to take anything. I also had a very bad scare at work. I had serious cramping, puking and bleeding at work. I left work early and while I was waiting for Hubby to get home I passed out in bed. When he got home he woke me up and we plotted how to make going to Urgent Care work without me being technically covered with insurance. He started the search for his Health Ins. card and I passed back out. When he found it, I guess it was harder to wake me up so he told me to just sleep. Sleep, I did. When I woke up it felt like I had been hit by a truck but no more bleeding and the cramps were gone. I also went to bed early that night and slept in the next day. Two more weeks and I can see a doctor. Two more weeks. Two more weeks. Two more weeks.

Two more weeks.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Maternity Pants

Pregnant Log
[Pregnant: Unofficially 11wks] Still haven't gone to the doctor yet, but I do have health insurance now!
[Mood Swings: Leveling out]
[Cravings: Parfaits, Chicken/Meat in general]


Let me say that again: I HAVE HEALTH INSURANCE! I haven't had health insurance since working at Chipotle... and even then I only went to the doctor once to get allergy medicine when it turned out I was very allergic to the non-allergetic gloves at work, the doctor prescribed to me $150 lotion in a 2oz bottle. Needless to say it's probably still collecting dust in that Greensboro CVS.

I now have eye and dental care, also. I need new glasses in a very serious way. I also want contacts with ever fiber of my being. I loathe wearing glasses. Glasses make my face look funny. I'm not a fan. My teeth need to be cleaned in a very, very serious way. I've never been so excited in my life to make doctors appointments. I feel like an elephant is no longer riding piggy back on my already weighed down frame.

Hubby and I were at work yesterday and he was talking about some new code we'll need for the new cash boxes they're installing at each location. I didn't know where to retrieve it so he went to a website (that no one had told me about) and set me up an account. The website also happened to have our benefit options, he decided to view my options. Apparently since I am a new employee I qualified for health benefits! So. Much. Excite. He printed off my little paper and the only not-so-good news is that I have to wait until October 1st before I can start making appointments. Even with that said, I'm elated at the idea of making a "Tell me I'm pregnant, Doc" appointment amongst my eyes and teeth.

Although, I told Hubby that he has to escort me to the dentist appointment because I am terrified of the dentist. I want to make our teeth cleaning appointment together so we can hold hands in the waiting room and then swap horror stories of the evaluation of our teeth after. Hopefully I can find a dentist around here that won't cost an arm and a leg AND doesn't get sadistic pleasure out of hurting their clientele.


On a pregnant note, I need a humidifyer. My throat is killing me from snoring and my nose keeps getting closed up because I get so dehydrated over night. Hubby woke me up the other night because I was snoring so heavily. My throat still hurts so I can only assume that I'm still snoring. Last night I slept very hard and I had insane dreams. My morning sickness has started to be much better which is concering but from what I read it's about that time. I still get nauseous throughout the day but it's not so terrible right when I wake up anymore. I've started playing Wii Sports because it gets my heart rate up and I maybe burn a few calories and have fun too. I facetime'd with my sister and my mom and I mentioned wanting Wii Fit because the the apartment gym makes me want to puke being in there. I feel like everything is filmy, the floor never gets swept and the machines never get wiped down. The Wii is fun and I can do it in my livingroom, without a bra, looking like a fool. Well, long story short my mom bought it for me! She's really been spoiling me. I'm wearing my first pair of maternity pants as I type this. I mainly wear them at work though because my work pants don't fit anymore. My regular pants are stretchy and mainly I wear dresses anyway so my waistline doesn't really affect that. Leggings are also becoming my friend, quickly. I'm hoping to cut up some of Hubby's oversized shirts to some kind of stylish preggo shirt and just wear leggings with boots. Also, I saw some pregnant celebrities rock that look and I figure it will be perfect for Louisiana winters.

I also will be getting my very first paycheck at the end of this month. I have so much shopping I would like to get done. I will have made in one paycheck more than I've ever had, total, in my checking or savings account at one time... ever. That is very exciting. Also, just my paycheck pays the bills so it will be exciting to have spending money again. Right now we have money I don't even know where is coming from. Hubby is a magic charm when it comes to money, we always seem to have enough money to eat and get gas with. I have no idea how he does it. He doesn't understand how I think that is enough. He constantly asks me if I'm happy and apologizes for not providing for me like he "should." But honestly, we have power, a very nice apartment, gas in our cars and I never go hungry. I couldn't ask for more. He thinks we're at the bare minimum when a lot of time in my life was spent only picking a choosing from those options instead of having them all and


  all at the same time.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

TMI City

I feel like crap. crap. crap.

[Pregnant Log: Unofficially 9wks] Haven't gone to the doctor yet.
[Mood Swings: Off the charts]
[Cravings: Peanut butter & milkshakes/ice cream] Both together are perfect!

My morning sickness could only be worse if it accompanied puking. My nausea is unbareable. These last couple days have been the worst. My balance is completely gone. My balance was already terrible. Hubby laughs at how pathetic I am when he wakes me from the couch to move to bed after a long day of work. I walk sideways for a few seconds before I get my barrens just long enough to ease myself into bed. Laying on my stomach for five minutes already makes me feel sick for a solid thirty minutes. I can't even sleep on my side kind of positioned towards my stomach, I have to lay on my side, positioned towards my back.

Sometimes when I wake up and just lay in bed, I won't feel sick at all. Sometimes I even get maybe thirty minutes of feeling completely fine, walking around and then I feel super sick and want to lay down for the rest of my life.

Laying down is so heavenly. I never liked lounging around as much as I do now. Once my eyes open in the morning I like to be up and about and doing anything. Now, my eyes open and I try to lay in bed as long as possible before getting up. Today, I laid in bed for a solid hour and a half after waking up. I got up to use the bathroom and then laid back down. Laying down felt like a cool shower after being at the beach all day. Pure relief. For the most part, all I think about all day long is being back in my bed. Or snuggling up on the couch and having Hubby rub my back. Instant happiness.

Working isn't as much of a chore I make it out to be. When I'm at home getting ready for work I'm on the edge of tears not wanting to go in. Once I get to work I'm not so bad, work isn't so bad, the customers aren't all bad. Doing inventory is already posing some problems. Bending over makes me queasy, standing up from a squatted position makes me queasy and also, moving too quickly or a whole lot at once makes me dizzy and queasy. Why is it that no one mentioned to me how crappy this first trimester is? Last girl I was around during her first trimester she was puke-city but no real nausea. "I just get really hot and know I need to run to a bathroom." I remember her saying... I just feel really hot and queasy and nothing happens. I just sit there feeling like shit hoping it'd blow over shortly. The cramps. No one mentioned to me about the cramps. The cramps aren't unbareable like the nausea is but the cramps are sometimes very painful and take my breath away.

Everyone I know that has ever had a kid leaves out the poop issues. Well, I remember my sister expressing her anguish with her poops. I guess as an American it's also pretty taboo to openly discuss your bowel movements to Joan-Schmoe and Jane-Schmoe on the street. But honestly, ladies, if you ever get knocked up... your perfect bowel movements will be no more. I can't wait to get my normal poops back. I have never before been constipated or any variation of such. It's a whole new poop world for me now. From what I read "they" were not kidding about getting as much fiber as possible. Between my Pregnancy book, my Pregnancy App and my Hubby's sister I feel very educated on something I feel completely ignorant about. Most of the ladies I come across through work or otherwise have said, "Once I got the baby home I was lost, I had no idea what to do." Which is amazing for me because I feel 110% confidence about bringing an itty bitty baby home and even teaching Hubby some things about babies which I feel he is fully capable. We've even discussed that he will handle poopie diapers just like I will. I made it very clear that this parenting thing will be as close to the same amount as possible for as long as we're alive. I'm just at a loss about what to do while the baby is developing inside. I feel helpless and completely responsible all at the same time.

My boobs are getting bigger and my stomach definitly seems to be plumping up. I feel like I'm too big to be nine weeks though. Hubby and I both don't have any twins in our families. Not enough twins to take note of, anyway. He says his "super sperm" are more than capable but it's all up to the doctor visits to clear that up, I suppose.



Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Green Around the Gills

I am very early on in this pregnancy. I haven't gone to a doctor yet. I'm at week 7.

My morning sickness is getting physical. Not only do I feel nauseous I have actually puked. So it was only once but it was carrot juice, okay? Carrot juice coming up is not so much fun. The smell is horrible and warm carrot juice is not a tasty treat. I can't bring myself to drink any today and this morning I was so sick feeling I even forgot to take my prenatal vitamin because the thought of eating anything made me queasy.

 I bought a book yesterday. The more I read the more it freaks me out. Some of the information I've gathered as brought me some comfort but for the most part it even made me nervous about drinking water from any faucet because it might have touched a lead pipe and therefore will make me hemorrhage and die. It instructs those with animals with a flea collar to not touch the flea collar. Could you imagine the panic of petting your doggie or kitty and then all of a sudden, "OMG, I TOUCHED THE COLLAR, IKILLEDMYBABY, ZOMG, FREAKOUTFREAKOUTFREAKOUT"

Yeah, that would be me. Luckily we don't have an animal but there are so many fears associated with being a pregnant woman. "I'm going to have to get you a tazer gun" says Hubby, "Pregnant women are more prone to attacks." O great, lets just add that to my fear of anything I eat, the air I breath and accidently touching a flea collar. That makes me feel peachy. "You need to start driving my tuck," He has said to me before, "Your car isn't that safe. I don't trust it if you get into a car wreck." He says. My tiny little eco-car really isn't built for protection... got ya... but what was I before I got infected with his DNA? Chopped liver? C'mon, man... why am I so fragile now?

I'm prone to being paranoid. Yes, let's start with that insight. I have a grand fear of being arrested for something that I didn't do, zombies, spiders, dust, and closed in dark places. As you can see, I carry very irrational fears around in my pocket every day. Spiders? I know some of you guys share this fear but how many of you have been BITTEN by a spider?! I have! I slept through it, even! I had a weird bruise/swollen area on my collarbone for WEEKS! I could've died and slept through my demise! No fighting chance at all! The cop thing... well, I blame that on my parents. "Buckle your seatbelt or that nice police man will carry you off and then you'll never see mommy again!" Yay for fear mongering your kids until it developes a real fear!

So, now that you know my top five fears I can now add to my paranoia because I'm carrying a living thing inside of me. I always viewed pregnancy as a scene from Alien vs Predator when the baby alien bursts through the chest of unsuspecting people. Fear, anger... no matter how dead those people always looked they seemed to scream and scream and scream while the alien life form crawled out of their ribcage. All of my closest friends either was pregnant, had small children or became pregnant while I was friends with them. I got to experience their pregnancies by proxy. Since I was their close friend they didn't sugar coat anything with me, "I puked for two hours straight yesterday." and "I feel like they're in there boxing my lungs and using my ribs as a xylophone!" Fear. Fear, I have. I'm just beginning! This is the beginning of a very long year. Luckily it's going to be during the winter but winter has always made me uncomfortable to begin with... and now I get to wear tons of clothes over my huge body and overheat and feel fat and bloated. I could complain for days. I'm glad it's not during the summer though because Louisiana heat isn't a joke! The air is so thick outside it's hard to be out there for long. Part of me thinks that if I consentrate on all the negative things then if it goes much smoother and not so bad then I can truly appreciate it. I keep mentally preparing myself for anything horribly wrong that could happen. That way, I'm not dumbstruck or think, "This could never happen to me and the baby" because in my head it already has.... seven times. I'm not stressing myself out too much though, just staying realistic about the entire thing. Shit happens, ya know?

I also have lost all desire for work. I just want to be home, curled up in a ball, sleeping the day away. Laying down makes me less sickly feeling. I'm exhausted. I wake up sometimes and get a good thirty minutes of feeling completely normal, completely rested and ready to take on my day. That feeling is usually quickly taken away from me the first time I bend over to reach for something or think about food. I feel terrible. Work being so slow also doesn't help. I don't want to just hold down a chair, I want to work when I'm at work. It also doesn't help that work hasn't been so awesome lately too... soooo much drama and adults acting like children. It seems like ever since I realized I was pregnant this job lost all importance to me. I don't have the drive I had before. I think I'm too sidetracked with my own drama in my head to focus. I know that it's horrible to say, I just got this job... but at what cost? My body is making it difficult enough for me to function,


I just don't have the energy to worry about childish bullshit at work too.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Slime Ball

I'm pregnant.
With child.
A walking incubator.
I'm having a baby.

Terrified. Yeah, that's a good word to describe how I feel. I'm scared I'm going to hurt it. I really hate calling my fetus an it, too. Especially since we've already decided on a girl name. Buuut, if my fetus is a boy I don't want to call him a girl name.

Auuugh. I'm also trying to not stress.

Hubby is elated. He's taking the news and future responsibilities with full stride. I'm in the fetal position crying my eyes out. (Mentally) While he is plotting baby seats and threatening future boyfriends the child might have. He also doesn't have to worry about nurturing a growing being inside him.

We have used an online calculator to make a guess of how far along I am. Six weeks. I'm very early in and apparently this is when things could go wrong. I had convinced myself my body wasn't healthy enough to bare the burden of a child. Since I had sold that theory on myself I'm now freaking out trying to make everything okay for the baby. The baby doesn't even have eyes or fingers and I already feel very pregnant and would feel devastated if anything went wrong. I keep reading various ways that the baby would stop development. "It's a decision your body makes" and "Don't blame yourself" is always attached to the medical jargon on the articles I read.

I feel very pregnant.
My nausea is ridiculous. I already can't sleep on my side and the cramps are never-ending. I don't look pregnant. I do feel bloated, gassy and seriously green around the gills..  but it's far too early to have a bump. I feel a bit guilty. I'm speaking too soon. There is still so much that could go wrong throughout the entire process. Everyone is so happy for us. I feel so much pressure to do this right. This is something I can't (won't) quit on. I'm taking my prenatal vitamins and eating much cleaner. My mind is so jumbled.
I just want this to all go swimmingly and have a very healthy baby....

And not gain 100lbs.


Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Things I learned Today

I did something bad.
Yes, I admit it.
What I did was uncalled for and I brought it upon myself, yes I did. [I admit it.]
I also want to point out that I am not very religious. Very far from religious, actually. My main interaction with super religious people for the most part has been represented to me as intolerance in the name of the man in the clouds. [Just to get that out of the way]

I trolled some of my friend's pages that were advocating Chick-Fil-A on Facebook. Well, not really troll... because trolling consists of saying things you may not neccessarily belive in, but said to get a rise out of those who read it. Everything I stated was of my own opinion, unfabricated. I just posed a simple question: "Why do you support hate speech?"

Taking a stand against CFA is taking a stand against bullies, bigots and by proxy: ultra-religious Republicans. (Okay, that's assuming that all Republicans are also ultra-religious... which I will keep that assumption until I come across a non-religious Republican.) Okay, well... anyway. I posed that question and was quickly beraded with various notations of myself and people in general.

Top 10 Things I Learned Today:
1. Satan is my best friend.

2. By supporting CFA you are supporting free speech, nothing else. (And don't you dare speak out against what he said, because that is just NOT correct, you horrible American you.)

3. Only TRUE Americans are Christian.

4. The people in the military are fighting ONLY for the right of freedom of opinion and speech.

5. By disagreeing and openly being offended by Dan Cathy, I am not for freedom of speech and my opinion does not matter. [Enter random bible verse]

5. I am hugely disrespectful by saying that it takes a less quality of a person to agree with Dan Cathy. (Ex: I think all people should be allowed happiness and be married in the eyes of the law, regardless of anyone's religious definition of marriage, anyone that thinks otherwise is by my definitions: a less quality of a person.)

6.  I'm going to hell. (Refer back to #1)

7. I am a horrible person.

8. They aren't spreading hate speech, they just hate people that have opinions like I do.

9. [Enter random bible verse]

10. The bible says so.

Now, I understand what a TRUE Christian is like. Well, an average one anyway. A couple days ago I had a sweet older lady come in and I sold her and her husband some phones. Her husband has been working long days so this lady was very interested in getting to know me and Hubby (we were working together that day) and also dabbled in some of our opinions on some things. We got into talking about rights and gay rights. I have no idea how the subject even came to pass, but it did. I mentally cringed when I heard Hubby metaphorically poke at her with a certain opinion. The lady let off a big laugh and said, "Anyone who says their a Chrisitan and tries to take someone else's rights away or say lies about something they don't know about aren't reading their bible. Their god is not my God. I don't know who they're referring to." She then sited some scripture about Jesus being with the lowly and dirty and another verse about how God tells everyone to love openly and freely. She also sited a few verses and one of the deciples visiting a town that the men and women have left their husbands and wives to be with those of the same sex and God said, "These are people too, so therefore we will love them just the same." (Or something close to that, I kinda suck a remembering anything bible related) The lady then continue boasting about her children who have friends of all colors and all backgrounds, "Gays, shades of brown and black, even a couple people who have had some tough times in their lives and went to prison. My church welcomes everyone and I made sure to tell my kids to never talk ugly about anyone else or make anyone else feel less human. God is love and we love God. I have no idea the god those other people are talking about in the news. God says no such thing. They should have more love in their hearts."

This kind soul really gave me points in humanity again. I gotta tell you... working with the public has really made my score for humanity plummet. Let's say the base score is 100. Within weeks of working with the public again that score easily slipped to 50, giving people leeway for just an off day or having a shitty day in general. This Lady brought it right back up to 80. It also helped that she named her miniture poodle after Dave Chapelle.

Then today happened. I guess I wanted to test the theories that nice lady brought to me in the store that day. She truly is an awesome lady. I wished she was my grandma (Even though to look at her you wouldn't thinks he was old enough to be my grandma). I wanted to hang out with her and bake with her. I wanted to help her walk her dogs and meet her family. She is who I like to think I will be as I get older and the type of parent I want to be while imposing my ideals on my children. I quite idolize her opinions on things. Even though I am not religious does not mean I'm a bad person. In the words of my brilliant, beautiful, sweet lady customer,
"Believe what you want to believe but it's up to God if you want salvation. If you don't want salvation it's not my choice, it's not the people's choice to tell you if you're going to hell or not. I'm not in your heart, I don't know how you truly are deep down inside. He does, and it's His choice. Not mine, not anybodies. Let the judging be His. If anyone tells you any different, they aren't following MY God's beliefs, they're following mans rule and mans idea of how to run things. Don't be fooled by man."



Friday, July 27, 2012

Opinions are like ass holes...


Okay, Okay... so I was going to do this in-depth rant about why I'm boycotting Chick-Fil-A and blahblahblah. I've actually deleted people over the CFA crap because of how they stated their opinion on Facebook.

I also find it an odd connection that the most overweight people are the ones that are spamming their dying devotion to CFA...

Honestly, I'm already quite tired of the subject. I'm not going to eat there anymore. Got it. Done. Sealed deal. Hubby even agrees that we're going to stay away from the place and he's the most neutral person I know. My opinion of such is this: If CFA won't hire homos, us homos (and supporters) shouldn't give CFA any money. Also, every time you give that company money you are funding all of those anti-homo establishments he's donating to. It's not just his stance against equality that gets my blood boiling.

But all of that is beside the point of this blog. Opinions are opinions, okay? I have them, you have them, Obama has them and so does CEOs of major fast food chains. Everyone is entitled. Ninety percent of the time I let those opinions slide by me without even mentioning my side of it. I might even smile and give you a weak nod when I'd rather rip that opinion from your throat and shove it up your ass. [What? I can be violent in my head.] Well, then there is that ten percent of the time. That ten percent where I feel that not only your opinions may be hurting others but also isn't quite fair to those you might not even know. Equality is one of them. I'm quite passionate about equality and also my money. My money and my equality, we're BFFs... money, equality and I. I want to be able to put my money where I want, marry who I please and be myself. Those are my main goals in life. Now, that doesn't sound so difficult does it?

Then I read this on facebook:

"Why would I stop eating CFA, you're an idiot to think just because I eat there I'm against homos."
"You're a bunch of ignorant fools to think I'm going to stop getting my chicken on because of their CEOs opinions."
"Who gives a shit about this? I'm eating Chick-Fil-A for lunch today!"

Okay... so... I get it... you're going to eat there anyway. Uh-huh. Got it. Why call me names and say my opinion is idiotic just because you don't agree with it? Why is equality dumb to you? Is eating fast food TRULY that important to you that you couldn't give up ONE fast food joint because you're too consumed with their product that their opinions won't stop you from funding their efforts against your friends? Yes, these individuals that have stated similar things as above have close friends who are homosexual. I'm not only appalled but disgusted and quite frankly... hurt. I'm hurt that these people that I know, like, and called friend... would say these things. I deleted these people that made these similar statements. Not because of the one post about it, but because the constant berating against equality in the name of fast food.

I'm so sorry that your friends don't matter enough for you to pass up one fucking meal at a fast food place that will probably give you cancer anyway and will DEFINITELY increase your waist line.

I'm hurt to think that these people that I know are so proudly (and consistently) spamming their Facebook pages with images and words making fun of the people striving for the boycott idea. It's beating a dead horse. I do realize there is tons of propaganda out there right now that homos are pumping out left and right trying to get people to boycott CFA, that may seem like an abundance to you and it's annoying you as much as I am to the opposite. I understand that. I'm not saying keep your opinion to yourself, I'm just saying try not to be hurtful about it. There are teenagers killing themselves every day because not only their family but now strangers are publicly announcing their hate for their homo-ness. Okay, that sounded very, "Lets do this for the kids" but honestly...  

why the fuck not?

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

We All Want Mental Illness.



Mental illness is tricky business. Most of America is afflicted by it, or hoped to be. I say hoped to be because it seems like every highschooler blog or reality TV show is shoving mental illness down our throats.

"I have OCD"; "I'm BiPolar."; "I'm ADHD"... etc, etc.

Some people announce it like it's a badge of honor. It's their street cred in the life of, "I'm fucked up, now where is my TV show?!" Sadly, people embrace their mental instability instead of trying to mend those mental incapacitates with self-evaluation and self-love.

I like to say I am depressed instead of have depression. Positive feelings are just as natural as negative ones.... it all depends on how you embrace them. I have triggers that set me off, as do most people. Horribly bad medical news from a family member or friend; moving a great distance away from friends and missing out on birthdays/holidays or just working entirely too much. Now, those individually can be triggers as well as stacked. You pile up a few of those and I'm rocky. Once you stack all of them I'm a blubbering baby whos a mega bitch to anyone that might reach out and help. I like to think of my mental break down as that scene in Constantine when he visits hell. It's calm, life slows... and he's sucked into a blustery unpleasantness with demons/negative thoughts sniffing him out and getting ready to attack.



Now, with that said... Everyone is allowed a good cry, an absurd moment... or even an outlandish bitch-mode moment. Everyone is very much entitled. Not saying it's a great thing or it needs to be the new past time but showing emotions are embracing how you're feeling and owning those feelings are when you express them to others. I've discovered that by owning my feelings I feel more power over them. No matter how upset I get or how out of line I am with someone else... Being able to say, "I'm sorry, I got really upset because I haven't had time to myself lately and I feel like life is just smothering the life out of my lately." I owned that feeling, I addressed it and I even apologized (if needed) about that emotion that I took ownership of. Therefore, I felt felt growth within myself and more powerful than that emotion that just took over me. (And maybe can recognize that feeling the next time before I spout off at the mouth.) I smashed that marble and got sent back to earth... got me?

I'm not saying apologizing will get you out of certain situations. If you constantly badmouth someone else because of your own inner turmoil it will be your fault that you can't mend that relationship with that person or that relationship is forever tainted because of your bad vibes. It happens. Best thing for you to do is stay away from that person (Apologizing does still mean something before you leave and may just give that break away from that person time for them to realize that you are able to move forward with a most positive attitude with them. Everything takes time.) and give them space. Let them know you still want to be their friend but at arms length is sometimes best.

But anyway... that's not exactly why I wanted to write this blog. I've just been thinking a lot about all the hate that's being flung around these days. For fucks sake, your Neighborhood Chick-Fil-A hates your gay Uncle Adam. That burns, right? It hurts. It hurts to be hated. It hurts to feel hated. It especially hurts to feel hated by those that don't even know you. No matter what the reason you feel sad or hurt, own those feelings. Don't be afraid to express them. Cry about them, be mad about them... but own them. Their yours. I think if you're able to own your feelings you will be better able to mend that mental instability you have. America isn't about taking responsibility for anything anymore and that saddens me. "Take a pill if you feel sad, it makes you better! Watch out for those sideaffects though! THOSE, could kill you! Not that pill I'm making you take instead of just asking you how you feel."

Blarg.

Well, I guess I'm done ranting for today.

Monday, July 2, 2012

My Boring Life

This blog use to be filled with desperation, longing and pathetic poetry-like words wishing and hoping for things that never seemed to be in my grasp.

Now, I have nothing to really write about.
 Well, not NOTHING... but definitely happier things.
I find those things to be boring
I have a boring life now.

By boring, I mean, I'd bore you guys to death with my happiness. I'm not actually bored. Far from bored. I'm domestic and painfully in love. So painfully in love if I was to put it into words it wouldn't seem valid. My fairytale would seem like a lie to an average reader of this blog. I'd seem far too happy and thus, must be rubbing my lies into the faces of those that might read this.

Truth is, my boring love and life is all I've ever wanted. We eat together; pass out on the couch watching TV together and smile together. We even work together now. Doing the usual morning shuffle of coffee, showering and putting on our Adult Costumes. We separate just long enough for work and chores. I miss him terribly like he's countries away when really he's just a few hours from my grasp... maybe even minutes. We openly discuss how happy we make each other, tell each other how cute we are with bedhead.... we gently shake the other awake when we have overslept. We engage in conversations that no one else would understand because they aren't us. We have inside jokes that happened by accident and laugh about things others wouldn't find funny. We are a we.




To you, this is all pathetic nonsense. I can't apologize for our boring behavior. It's just how life is. The most excitement we have every night is, "Should we get more beer or wine for tonight?" and "Dr. Who or a movie?" 

As I mentioned before, I have a job now! I have to cover my tattoos, which has proved to be annoying, but it's a job that I think I will really enjoy. My work email and most paperwork is now with my soon-to-be last name. It's odd, but feels natural. It's almost too easy to succumb to my new life. It's a graceful transition. My mother recently came to visit and she said she was amazed at how relaxed and happy I am. To be honest, I'm amazed at how relaxed and happy I am too. Hubby has even said he can't remember me ever being this happy.

I could write books about how enthralled I am with Hubby and our life together. I could write three blogs a day about how elated I am and describe every moment of every day to you. My facebook is canvased in gushy love statuses and tagging him with cuteness.

So.
Absolutely. 
Boring.
 (To you)

I even feel like I've written enough about it to prove to everyone that this is legit. Whine.Whine.Bitch.Bitch. It's all been laid out for everyone. I have nothing else to prove to anyone in a negative spin.... but simple happiness isn't exciting to the common reader. I also don't want to be even more annoying than I already am about this blissful turn of events.

So I guess what I'm saying is... You'll be the first to know when I have something horrible happening in my life, that will never change. Until then...

(No matter how boring)