The year to get in gear.

Woulda look at that, I'm a poet!
Haaaaaaa!

Anyways...

This is my year.  I'm claiming it.  This is the year that I figure me out, and hope that once I do that, everything else will fall into place.  Don't get me wrong.  I love myself, and have accepted who I am.  And I'm not looking to change everything about me, but I DO want to make myself better.  I need to adapt a part of me to try...TRY to be more organized, if I'm ever going to make a run at any sort of business, I have to have some sort of system.  Well other than collect papers, then stack in a pile later.  Then collect more papers, then stack in a pile somewhere else, destined to be lost, possibly forever.  I have two filing cabinets, I know HOW to file, but am just to lazy to actually sit there an file them and keep my shit straight.  Now don't get me wrong, I know I am perfectly capable of being organized, and managing my time well.  I do it at work everyday.  I need to tap into that motivation and carry it home with me.  But how?

Ugh.  I guess the same way I would tell anyone else, if they were asking the question to me.
You just do it!

Hmmm, maybe I should make myself shirts that say, "Just Do It"  and "Git er Done".  I bet I could make a fortune off those shirts.  -_-
If affirmation shirts worked, I wouldn't be having this conversation with myself, and you wouldn't have to witness this little bout of schizophrenia.

I'm starting to think that being a Libra, isn't all it's cracked up to be.  
You're balanced they say.  You know what that really means?  
I can't make up my fucking mind.  My head is full of 'but on the other hand's.'  I'm constantly seeing things from different perspectives, which don't get me wrong is kind of awesome sometimes, but it's also a real bitch. 
Libra's also love everything beautiful.  You know what THAT really means?
Yeah sure I'm crafty, but I'm messy as hell.  
When I bake cakes and cupcakes, it looks like a food fight between two 6yo, went on in my kitchen.
Even when I paint a sign, it looks like a classroom of preschoolers, was finger painting all over.  Almost every piece of clothing I own has paint, or glitter glue on it.  My husband looks like he often frequents strip clubs, with the amount of glitter that falls off of him weekly.  At least he looks like a stud to his co workers.  Or desperate.  Whatever.
Annnnnd, we tend to be fair and just.  Do you have any idea how twisted and macabre my imagination is, but my conscience won't ever let me play with it.  I mean don't get me wrong, I'm no Ted Bundy, but I could probably start a pretty large cult if I wanted too.  Not like a "drink the Kool-Aid cult," more of a really big 
commune, where we live on a island and I make all the rules.  

Haaaaaaaahahaha.

Just kidding I made that last part up for laughs.
Although, I'd be an awesome hippy commune leader.

Back to the issue at hand.  Being a better me, and not getting side-tracked and making jokes.  Maybe that's the thing...I hate seriousness.  It makes me uncomfortable, to the point where I avoid situations all together, to stay away from the anxiety of the uncomfortableness, that resides in my own head.  And that's when we come full circle back to the mental battle of which personality gets controlling stock of the 20% of my brain  that I access.  I need to be more serious in my approach to building better habits, and not laughing it off when I don't achieve my destined-to-fail-because-they're-to-much-too-soon type goals.
  
I need baby steps, I need consistency, I need perseverance.  
I raised my kids to think like that, why can't I raise myself to think like that?!
I bet I can.  I probably need help though. 

Hmmmm, I definitely have some things to think about.

What do you think???

Finding logic through tragedy. CAUTION: OPINION POST!

First off, let me say this;

Hi, it's been awhile, I know.  Been busy with the kid and life and and and.....
So, since this is my first post in quite a while, I figured that I would make it a controversial one.  You now me.

Second, let me say this;

My heart goes out to anyone that has lost someone due to senseless violence such as the recent events.  As someone who has lost a child, I know how devastating it can be, and as someone whose brother was shot, twice due to retaliation of being kicked out of a party, I can tell you that it's equally as devastating, when someone you love is injured.  No one ever wants their loved ones hurt, or taken, and I feel for all the families affected by the injury or loss of a loved one.

Third and final thing, before I get to the real thing;

This is my opinion, not yours.  I'm not speaking for ANYONE other than myself.  I'm not trying to sway to you MY WAY of thinking.  Your reactions will in no way make me feel A. Validated or 2.  Ashamed of my opinion, because it is just that, MY opinion.  I'm simply writing on MY blog, how I feel about the recent tragedies and the vastly different opinions being thrown around by lots of people I know.  Most of them to my face, or on my FB.  I try to not start anything on FB, because, well, I believe people are entitled to their own thoughts...And without further ado, here's mine.


Over the last few days, I've heard a plethora of opinions regarding the Oregon mall shooting and the Connecticut school shooting.  Everything from, take away guns, to arm EVERYONE!  I've heard, 'stop glorifying the situation' in regards to the media, and 'I hope he burns in hell' from people, who every other day, preach forgiveness.  So many things to consider, so many people angry, so few people who realize something.  This isn't new.  This isn't a gun problem.  This isn't a time to blame a weapon, it's a time to take a look at the person wielding said weapon.  

I wonder how many people heard about the knife wielding guy in China, who on Thursday, injured 22 children and an elderly woman, as she walked them to school?  None of those kids died, so of course, it wasn't a big thing on the news.  In fact, it took me almost 10 minutes of news stories on my phone to even find it.  No one was holding a gun, so it wasn't worthy of a headline, or breaking news.  But I bet all of those kids and that woman's family, all felt the same heartache and panic as the people in OR and CT.
The knife wasn't the issue.

Andrea Yates killed her five children with her own strength and water. 
Water wasn't the problem here. 

Ted Bundy used charm and usually asphyxiation or a blunt object to kill his  victims.
Charm is not the culprit.  

I could go on and on and on, throughout the history of time, back to the days of King George or Caligula and site examples of how weapons can be made from ANYTHING.  
But...
That's not my point, well it kind of is, but I think the bigger issue is, mental health.  What drives a person use a gun, or knife on helpless children?  What makes someone look at their beautiful children, then take their lives away from them?  What makes a person gain your trust, then use it against you to take your life.  

It's called psychosis.  It's an actual medical condition, it's not just some unresolved childhood issues that's making you angry enough to throw a glass against the wall, or verbally lash out at someone, even though they may not deserve it.  No, this is, wires-aren't-connecting, severe-chemical-imbalance of the brain.  So, I say, instead of banning guns, or arming everyone, why don't we try paying attention to those around us.  Our friends, our family and even our enemies.  Pay attention to their behavior.  I don't just mean what they say, but their body language.  You can tell so much from peoples body language, but most of us just go through life paying attention to what we 'have' to instead of seeing the whole picture.  We go through life thinking we're all safe little babies, wrapped up in our own security of 'nothing like that happens in my town' until something like that happens in your back yard.  Then, we feel devastated for a while, but then forget what devastated us until it happens again, and again and again.   

I guess my Christmas wish for the world is awareness.  I hope everyone can now be aware, that terrible things like this happen and will continue to happen, because there's a gross oversight as to the real problem behind all of this senseless violence.  Be aware that bad things and bad people are ALWAYS going be around, and that NONE of us are safe from harm coming to us, and we shouldn't EVER wait for a tragedy, like the ones I mentioned to take the time to appreciate what we have!!!

Okay, stepping off my soapbox now. 
I'll be back with a jollier post before Christmas, I promise!!!

When you make the right choice, and it still doesn't help.

Hey peeps out there in blogland, how is you're Tuesday going.  Mine is sore, but I'll get to that in a minute.  Right now I gotta tell ya to go hook up with my girls IA, who's having a horrible month, you poor thing.  I hope you get better soon, and then take a trip to the beach with Shawn to relax.  Then link up with them. It's just that easy.

Now, for the good stuff.  And by good stuff, I mean horrible, horrible things.  
This was my weekend.

Friday night started out with The Mr. bringing one of his loud co-workers over.  I don't mind that they're loud or even that they stay here for hours, it's that all they talk about is work.  UGH!!!  It's not a wonder that he thinks the weekends are getting shorter, he spends half of it, talking about the place he cant wait to get a break from.  Sheesh.  Boys.....I'll never understand em'.
So, after The Mr. goes to bed me and D decide were going to the watch the newest episode of our new favorite show, The Newsroom, when I get a call from a strange number.  I don't answer.  What?  It was after 11pm and my phone was waaaaaay over there, so then a few seconds go by and somebody left a message.  So I grab my phone, call voicemail, and find that my girl KT, is down at the bar and needs me NOW!!!  So, I get up, get dressed, put on a light layer of war paint and head out.  I get to the bar, where she was attending a bachelorette party, to find out that she got a ride there, and Happy, her Mr., was not answering his phone, and he is her DD for the night.  So I sit with her for a little bit longer, dance a little bit, hang out with friends, and just when were getting ready to leave....That's right, Happy shows up, looking like he just rolled out of bed, because he had, and took my drunken KT home.  I then offered anyone else a ride from a DD, nobody took me up on it, so I went home and went to bed.

Then comes Saturday, when I'M the one in need of a DD, since we are going to a BBQ with some friends, my BFF Squish, who's taking blood thinners and can't drink, offers to be my DD.  Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!  We go to the BBQ, have a total blast, playing pool, having Jello shots, and just being with our amazing friends and having a good time.  

There's Squish up front making a kissy face, me, D, Bos, are in the back.

Notice how much the dogs like whoever is at the food table?  Hmmm odd.

We continue to these good times until around 1:30 am, then decide, we need to go home.  We're tired, I quit drinking a while ago, so my buzz has faded, which means I'll be ready for night night within the next 45 minutes.  So we left.

On the way home we were still gabbing about how much of a good time we had.  Squish's boy had fallen asleep and now it was just Squish, D and I shooting the breeze, when all of a sudden....
We come around a curve, and see what appears to be an oncoming car, in our lane about a half mile down the road.  Since we're on a 50 mph highway, at first we think, 'he must be passing, he'll get over', and then he doesn't.  Squish at this point is left with the decision to flip her car in a ditch, or try to make it to a nearby driveway, or get hit head on.  She's frantically honking her horn and flashing her lights, but the guy in the car, was just.....well I don't know WHAT the hell he was.  She reaches the driveway and as soon as she get's an inch of the front tire onto the gravel, we were hit head on.

Now, when they tell you that your life flashes before your eyes in a case like this...They are full of shit!  The only thing that was running past my eyes was, "please don't let us die, right now", over and over and over.  I managed to get out, and get Squish's boy and D out, but unfortunately, Squish was  trapped in the car by the door.  I ran around the car to try and open her door, searching for that 'there's a car on my baby' strength, and just couldn't find it, moments later the emergency crew was there, cutting her door off with the jaws of life, and D, J and I are sitting the yard 40' feet away listening to her scream as they pull her out.  D, J and I came away with minor injuries.  We're all sore, and I'm banged and scraped, but we're amazing compared to Squish, who suffered a broken wrist, forearm, ankle, femur and today she is scheduled for a six hour surgery to try and piece together her shattered hip.  She is stuck in the hospital for a minimum of 4-6 weeks, and right now she's heavily sedated in ICU.

Here's a few pics of my injuries.

My knee

Inside of my thigh.

My lower stomach.

Under my boob and torso.

Air bag burn on my nose.

We are told that the driver that hit us, was suspected of being intoxicated and suffered a broken arm.  At this point, I don't even know his name, or anything about him.  What I do know is, that in the blink of an eye, dozens of lives were changed by one wrong choice, and the person most afflicted by this wrong choice, was the person that made the right choice, by being a DD.  So if any of you out there have some extra prayers and good thoughts.  My girl Squish could surely use them.

Warning: Do not drink jug wine, while Facebooking.

Do you know what's harder than starting a whole new schedule?


Going back to the schedule that you had, prior to the new schedule.


I can't believe it's already been a month since my unfortunate and unexpected departure from my workplace, and I think it's okay to talk about it, since I've decided to not even try to get my job back there, or anywhere until D Graduates.  Her graduation is more important, than a job for me right now, plus, there's the planning of A's wedding in August, sooooooooo a job for me is put on hold for a minute.


Here's how I got fired, and why FB and Carlo Rossi jug wine do not mix.


Allow me to set the scenario for you,  I'm home from work, sitting on my exercise ball.  It's about 12:30 am and I'm on my second glass of Carlo Rossi Sangria in hand.  Now keep in mind when I say glass, I of course mean a pint size mason jar, and well Carlo, he comes from a jug.  It looked something similar to this.

At least it was a small jug in the picture.

I'm sitting in front of my computer, and a co-worker had posted that she only had seven days at work left and then she would be free.


Then came a few comments, including one that said "Now if you just tell J*** to F*** Off you be among the legends."  J*** may or may not be the VP of our company.  Now comes my comment, which read, "If you do tell J*** to F*** Off, please for the love of all that is awesome, record it."  To which she replied she probably wouldn't, to which I replied "Just a simple F*** Off and a who's coming with me, Half Baked style, would be amazing."


I would then be called into the office three days later, 15 minutes after we had a "New company policy" meeting, that told us all about the "no work talk allowed on social networking sites", and was told, that due to my comments on FB that they were, in fact, breaking up with me.  They did tell me however, that if I wrote J*** an apology letter, that maybe 6-9 months down the road I would be eligible for re-hire.  Both my supervisor and general manager said they would back me up, if I asked for my job back, because they both know, I rocked at it, but I don't know if I can go back to the catty, high-school mentality, that is my former workplace.  I've already been offered a job that will be starting right around the same time that D graduates, and I think I might hold out for that.  I know that I'll have to deal with assorted drama and corporate politics everywhere I go, and now I get to know what NOT to do, when I work for anyone else.


Plus, it's been really hard to write a letter to my former VP that doesn't contain the word douchebag in the first paragraph.  It would be a lot easier, if I had ever had any respect for him, but during my six months at that company, he did nothing to show me that he deserved it.  He didn't even know who I was, until someone brought this little FB issue to his desk.  


And I'm glad he never got to try one of my cupcakes.


So for now, I'll just wait, and continue to plan out my dreams of being a big time caterer with her own TV show on a food channel somewhere.


Now off to my domestic duties.  Yeehaw!

Are you wanting to get pregnant anytime soon???

I'm still laughing over this question.


Yesterday, I went to the doctor.  Now normally this isn't and out of the ordinary thing for MOST people.  However, I am not most people.  I'm am the queen of "there's a vitamin you can take for that", but alas, my family has informed me that there is indeed, NOT a vitamin for my anxiety issues, or my PMS that is near strong enough to work.  So, for the last two five eight years, my family has informed me, that I'm not getting  better, and in fact may be getting worse, and that maybe it's time to see a doctor.  


WWwwwwhhhaaaaat????


I don't do doctors.  I haven't been to a doctor, but maybe three/four times tops, sixteen years.  That's right, not even for my annual woman exams.  Hasn't happened since February 1996.  I know, some of you may think, 'bitch you're crazy', but I really didn't think so.  I feel healthy, I feel happy and people who go to the doctor, always come back sick and on pills of some sort.  Not that I have a problem with that in general, it's just not for me.  No religious reasons, no mistrust of doctors, I just know my body better than anyone else out there.  When I get sick, I take echinacea to boost my own immune system,  when I get pms, I take my Gaba Calm by the handful and sequester myself to my bedroom for a couple of days.  Bladder and kidney infections were cured with cranberry extract and water.  That has been my life....forever.


Yesterday, the day I caved, I made D go with me, so that I couldn't bullshit the doctor and make my symptom seem less severe than they are, because she's my brutally honest child and has no problem calling 'bullshit' when she feels it necesary, which she felt it necessary a few times yesterday.


So they give me this anxiety test to fill out.  Should've just handed it to D to fill out for me, because everytime I would mark down a two, she would be like, 'ummmmm, that's more like a four'.  Needless to say, when I was done taking the test, we found the last page, the grading page.  Evidently anything over thirty is severe anxiety.  Guess what my score was?????


Sixty-three


That's right sixty-three, and there were a lot of zeros on that test.  


Since the doc was unsure if it was my hormones, or if it was just me being crazy, that was making me crazy, so he prescribed me two things.  Xanax, which is fine.  I was hoping for Valium, because A. I've taken it before, 2. It's been around for like, a thousand years with no 'did someone you know die taking Valium' commercials and C. it's mother's little helper, right?  But I'm being open minded and doing what the doc say.  *Conformity is a bitch sometimes*  Then he recommends that I start taking birth control, to help regulate the PMS symptoms.  


Here's where it gets fun?


Doc:  Have you ever taken birth control before?
Me:  For approximately three days, ever, which may explain the three kids, before I was twenty-two.
Doc:  Well, are you wanting to get pregnant anytime in the near future?
Me:  Bwaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
Doc: -_-
Me:   Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahahaha Absolutely NOT  Haahahahahahahahahah, I've been tied, and soldered for sixteen years.   Hahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahaha, so NO NO NO NO!!!!
Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahahhahahahah.
Doc:  Well give me a few minutes to get your prescription ready. 


Well, today marks the first day of the scientific experiment I'm calling, "will the crazy bitch get better, and if she does, will all her quirkiness die?"


I don't think so.  I don't mind being a bit neurotic, hell, I'll even walk the line of basket case, with a smile on my face, but I'm keeping these pills for the days, where the train wrecks happen.


And who knows, maybe I'll gain some focus along the way?


WWWwhhaaat???


I'll keep y'all posted!!!


Oh and PS...Here a couple pictures, since you had to read all this nonsense.

The first buds to open on my whatever, some sort of dogwood tree.

And the ones that will be open in a couple days.

Ode to, well nothing really imparticular.

Oh dear legwarmers, where have you gone?
Why have you left me freeze, all alone?
Is it because of my fling, with my sandals in the spring?
Or the shorts I wore in July, when the degrees, were high?


I swear they meant nothing to me
and I always thought of you.
But now it's freezing outside, you're no where.
I don't know what to do.


So please come back to me, 
for without you, 
I won't make it to February.

What I've been up to. Pt. 1

Over the last six weeks, my life, has drastically changed.  Some changes good, some bad, some really bad.


First off, the really bad.  The day that I feared the most in my life came to surface itself, on one of the two worst days of my year.  On my sons birthday, they day I sit around moping that he's not here to celebrate his birthday with us, I dropped the bomb on my husband, that we DID NOT in fact have the money in our savings account, for him to get his snowmobile.  


Shocked by this news, he proceeded to give me the longest bout of the silent treatment, in history.  "How could I have wasted all the money, why didn't I tell him that I had to dip into savings", all the things that he was entitled to know, but didn't want to hear the answers to.  


Now let me explain this, it's not like I was just going out on shopping sprees, or out to fancy dinners, and I certainly wasn't going to the races every weekend, telling my wife to get me this and get me that and make sure I have a couple hundred bucks to get through the weekend.  No, I was not doing that.  I wasn't the one living by the "of course you can get it for me, we have a few thousand dollars in the bank" rule.  


But, I also wasn't the one saying, "hey listen, if you do this, we'll be out of money by Tuesday and I'll have to dip into saving to get us by until Friday".  I was the one who enjoyed seeing The Mister so happy, going here for a day, or there for the weekend.  He seemed content, and that made me content.  I was also the one that was under the delusion that I would get a job quickly, and be able to replace the money that was depleting at a faster than slow pace.  I was also enjoying the fact that, I too fell into the delusion that I could start getting more of the things I wanted.  Bad, bad, bad...


Luckily after five days of silence and a whole lot of "real talk" to him, from his best friend, who's always managed to stay pretty objective to us, and pointed out, that he put me through a great amount of hell for about six years, and maybe he should re-evaluate the situation before he throws all those stones, and then, he started talking to me again, but it's changed things greatly for us.  Like, from now on, until we can prove to each other  that we can manage money, we're going to manage our own monies.  He can manage his, and I'll manage mine.  For twenty years we've managed to mess things up financially, and I really want to try stick to a budget.  Problem is we don't see eye to eye with how to do it, so for now, we'll do it separately.  I know it's not ideal, but it's how it's gonna be.


So that's one of the things I've been up too, 
I'll tell ya more later...

Sweet sixteen and still hurting.

Today is my sons birthday.  He's a sweet sixteener and he's never been kissed, at least not by someone that wasn't related to him anyways.  

My baby boy, just a couple weeks old, died from SIDS at two months and 26 days old.  He's missed everyday by his family, and will be forever.

When he died people filled my head with heartfelt cliche's like, "it'll get easier" and "give it some time" and although those words helped light up my darkness, I can honestly say.


It doesn't always get easier, no matter how much time goes by.


Maybe they were talking about the fact that it would get easier to talk about him, or what happened to him, because it is.  But what's not easier, is seeing the pain in someone's eyes when I do tell them, the sorrow they feel for me or even the guilt they may feel, because they have sons that are still alive.


I told my younger, who by the way is still pretty bitter about our loss, that today is not a day to be mad that he's not here, today is the day we're happy that we even got him in the first place.  


Easy words to say, not so easy to feel.


But I will smile and go on, I mean, what choice do I have?  Plus, I have some of the most amazing people in my life, everyday, that keep me smiling.

We're going to his grave today, I'm baking him a cake, we're bringing him flowers, he'll feel our love and we'll feel his protection.


Maybe things are easier after all.

Some friends of mine.

I like to think that you can tell a lot about a person, by the crazies people they are friends with.  Most people don't have a set "type" of person they hang out with, except for me, it seems almost all of my friends are a bit looney. 


What, you don't believe me???

This is Stacy, now while she looks perfectly normal here, in this picture with G.  a very dear friend of mine, whom I made a monkey cake for this weekend for his birthday, Stacy is a loon.  She may look sweet and innocent in this picture, but give her a little bit to warm up to her surroundings and you have a whole new girl, just looking to shock and awe you.

Aaarggh, I be a pirate and me want yer booty. 

I'm not even sure what's going on here.

I do know that she likes to stick her tongue out a lot tho.  Here she is with my oldest and bestest friend.

She's a bit of a weirdo too.  Not like me, I'm perfectly normal.

See, perfectly normal.  Me and the birthday boy man

And perfectly not normal.  There's the monkey cake I made.  

Although, she is not the looniest of my peeps.  No no not by a long shot.  No that title is reserved for one of my favorite people outside of my family.  This guy will do anything to make you smile laugh burst your belly wide open with laughter.  If Will Ferrell and Chris Farley were to have a love child with Jim Carey, you would have Justin.  Now before I show you his little montage, let me just warn you about what you're going to see.

Pure Awesomeness, that's what.  And a fat guy in a little shirt.  Hide your small children and those who just can't handle it.

I didn't lie, did I?  This is Justin...No, not Beiber, although I think girls find him just as sexy. Justin has been in the gang for about 15 years now and I can gain more ab power in one night around him, than I could in one week at a gym.  As you can clearly see.

He will do anything, and I do mean anything for a laugh.  Like putting on a shirt that would fit his 13 year old daughter to take sexy pictures with the birthday boy.

He's their number one fan.  I keep telling them they should make this their new promo picture to hang in the bars.  I mean the crowds they could attract with this would be amazing.

Not all of my friends are like this.  I have some semi-normal ones too, but let's face it, who the hell wants normal when you can have loonies like this, right?!  

I love my people.

Now off to do housewifey stuff.

Till tomorrow,

Marisa

I'm not chopped liver, I'm a winner!

Ok, so I know that I usually do the Friday Confessional bloghop on Friday's but today's confessional will be a bit different.


Why, you ask?  


Y'all did ask right?


Hello? 


Anyone?


Today's confessional is brought on by the way of:

And it was awarded to me by the evah tooo adorable Not so normal mommy.  I already love this girl and I've only known her a short time.  She's a young mommy with three gorgeous kids, including the most adorable newborn baby girl.  A girl truly after my own heart, beins' she has the same amount of kids I did at 22, she fun, free spirited and I can't wait to give her all my useless knowledge on how to make it to my age with out any homicide charges or funny farm visits.  Go check this girl out, she's fabulous.


Now for the rules.  Rules, rules always rules.

• Thank the giver, and link back to them in your post.  Check!
• Tell seven things about yourself.  Check....below.

♫  I love music.  I mean LOVE it.  If music were a person, I would have betrothed myself to him when I was three.  I love going to live shows and big concerts.  I listen to it loud, I love it when I can feel it in my chest.  Whew, think it's time to turn on some tunes.

 ♪  I had my first daughter at 16, my second at 20 and my son at 21.  Whoa, right?  But, I did it and I think I did a pretty awesome job.  My oldest girl is now 21, the youngest girl is 17 and a senior in high school this year...................................wiping tears.  Plus, my son is my own personal guardian angel.  I must have done something right to have such a wonderful angel looking over me.  Not to brag, but they're the best kids EVER.  And I'm not just saying that because I'm completely biased or anything.

♫  I didn't get my drivers license until I was 37.  Yeah, that's last year.  It all started when I was 18 and taking that dreaded, written knowledge test, and I tanked it.  SEVEN TIMES I tanked it.  So I gave up, I mean I was already driving right?  Fast forward a couple few bunch of tickets and an OJ type mostly slow speed car chase.  But after years of being completely irresponsible in the aspect of my life, I got my shit together and got my license and insurance.

♪  I could read and write by four.  I don't remember, but I do have proof, through letters I wrote and stories I've heard.  My Grampa used to sit and read the newspaper with me, teach and quiz me on the letters and next thing I know, I'm reading and have had a love affair with words ever since.  Thanks Gramps, that totally makes up for the mustache I'm starting to grow.

♫  I'm bossy.  Not much to add to that, except I'm a mostly polite bossy bitch.

♪  I am a magazine hoarder.  I have a huge collection of magazines.  I call it collection, like it's not really an addiction.  I don't know why, but I keep thinking that someday, I'm going to need a tip, recipe, wise word or sooomething in one of those shiny papered, brightly colored, picture books.  I need help.

♫  I'm thinking of opening an online thrift store.  I've been cleaning out my basement for months years now, and I keep coming up with cool things, that I know my kids don't want, nor do they want to go through all this shit when we die, and The Mister said, "you really could open an entire store with all the stuff we have"        *lightbulb*    Why couldn't I do it, I'm smart enough, I have a ton of inventory and since I'm still unemployed and apply to all the jobs I'm qualified for in about two hours, I have plenty of spare time.  It's at least something to investigate further, right?

Well, if my maths are correct, that's seven.  You know what that means?  That's right. more rules.

• Give this award to, up to 15 recently discovered bloggers and let them know you did it.  Okay, here they are:

A Randomlicious Blog for the Soul  

I started following this girl through the Friday Confession Bloghop and have already felt a kinship with her.  Go check her out.  Don't make me get the zombie bunnies outta the dungeon.

http://thecountrykitchen.blogspot.com/

Hop on over to this girls blog.  She is chock full of delicious recipes, wit and loads of wisdom.  Go on, give her a click.

http://thebitchyhouswife.blogspot.com/

This Chick is real.  I love her candor and her honesty and her humor.  In a word.  Bitchin'  go see for yourself.

I only picked three, because I don't wanna overwhelm y'all with blogs on a bloghop friday.

Hope y'all have a fantastic weekend.

Marisa

And what makes your horse so high

While going through my email this morning, I came across a email from, blah blah blah moms.com, with a question that I hear all the time.  I decided to jump over to the site and check out some of the answers and one woman's answer really disturbed me.  Well to be fair, it was really only a sentence and that was, "Who wants someone making minimum wage raising their children?".


Whoa!


Back it up!


Having the opinion that staying home with your children until they are adults is fine, whatever floats your boat glitter.  Everyone's situation is different and there's tons of women who make this decision every day.  What I didn't like about her comment was.


Who is she to say that people who make minimum wage, don't care?


I'll tell you what.  I've been a stay at home mommy, I've been a working mommy and I've been a full time babysitter and I can honestly say that


A.  Saying we make minimum wage is a huge overstatement.  Most at home babysitters make about $100-$150 a week.  Now I'm not a mathematical genius or anything, but I'm pretty sure for 45 hours a week, this is no where near minimum wage.  


2. Assuming that people care less because they make minimum wage is, well it's just ignorant.  Does that automatically mean that a lower paid babysitter treats your kids with any less loving care than someone who charges $300 a week per child.  Maybe.  I'm sure that there are shitty babysitters that charge lower prices, just as I'm sure that there are shitty babysitters that charge the more expensive fees.


The best thing you can do as a mother, working or not, is love your children when you can.  Make them feel like they are the best thing you ever did.  And always remember, just because someone makes the lowest amount of money there is, doesn't mean that they aren't just as wonderful or maybe even more wonderful than someone who's rolling in dough!


Hopping off soapbox.
Marisa

Flowers help depression.

So, I found out today that I did not get the job that I really wanted, and well, nowhere else either.  I knew and still know it's going to be tough for me since, well I've been a housebitch for the last five and half years, and no matter how I transfer those skills onto a resume, there are millions of recently unemployed, with a better job history than me applying for the same jobs as me.  

So I'll just keep on keepin' on, cuz life's a garden, dig it?!

Speaking of garden, here's some of my favorite shots of my flowers.  They help with the "being completely unhirable" depression that I'm wallowing in tonight, along with a few glasses of wine.  Is there a job for professional wine drinkers out there?  How about professional whiners that drink wine?

Naw, I'm not a whiner, I'm a whinner winner and that place can kiss my ass, I'm too good for them anyways.

My first pink rose of the season.  Isn't she lovely?!

I have no idea what this is, but I have a few of them.

Ummm, I though primroses were winter flowers.

These smell delicious.  What job rejection?

My favorite tree in the yard.

Well, I think I feel a little better, plus, my car went bye-bye today to get fixed so things have got to be looking up.

Till tomorrow,
Marisa