Hater Shades

Well damn, Ive been busy.

2010-07-13T12:57:00.000-07:00

I got "let go" from my job, AKA the business is on it's way to being belly up. Not good. Single mother who is a part time student that pays bills out the wazoo? Not a pleasant situation to be in for the unemployed. So I applied for this job about 3 weeks ago. Project Administrator at an engineering firm. I didn't suspect a call because I sell insurance, what do I know about engineering? The hiring manager e-mailed me and set up a time and date for an interview. I went to the interview completely blind and nervous and I had the nervous poops every 3 minutes. She said the famous line; "We'll call you on Friday".

No call.

Monday rolls around, and she calls me at 5:30 pm. I have a second interview on Thursday. Should I be excited? Is this standard procedure that everyone goes through when they are being interviewed? I have no idea. I've had 2 jobs before, neither of which I had to apply for. I mean, I guess I kind if "applied" to enlist in the Army, but the insurance gig kind of fell into my lap.

I need this job. Badly. My son depends on it. The pay is pretty good, $15 an hour; plus it has benefits. BENEFITS! I haven't had a visit with the doctor since I had my son back in 2007. It is about 112 dollar upgrade per week from my previous job as well.

I need it. I neeeeeeeeeed it.

No news is good news.

2010-05-31T20:37:00.000-07:00

Things have been steadily boring lately which is actually a good thing. No drama, no problems, no bull shit. My cat has fleas, though. She's getting the flea dip treatment and I've quarantined her to my guest bathroom with her food and kitty litter because I've done the flea thing before with a different cat. Three times I had to flea bomb my apartment. THREE TIMES. I will. not. do. it. again. Her sad little meows disgust me. And so does the fact that I've locked my poor Brownie in a bathroom; but right now she's a bug ridden flea bag and I will not bomb my apartment again.

On another note, Saints and Vikings. September 9th. Season opener. I'm getting tickets and by God, wouldn't you know it; September 9th is my 22nd birthday. I've been reading the trash talk tweets between Sharper and Shiancoe, and it gave me a lady boner. Favre has had the surgery so it's safe to say he'll be back which also gives me a lady boner. I conveniently live in Who Dat nation, so a month leading up to the season opener, I'll proudly display my horns and Minnesota Vikings wardrobe and once again become one of the most hated residents in the greater New Orleans area.

Now I am all out of things to say. AMF.

I'm not going to lie.

2010-05-18T09:17:00.001-07:00

I'm pretty horny right now.

Like, I kind of need to get laid.

This might sound crazy.

2010-05-14T21:46:00.000-07:00

I have vivid dreams sometimes. They are normal dreams, with normal people I know, doing normal dream-like things. But they are clear, vivid, and intense.

By the end of the dream my heart will race, it will pound so hard it wakes me. But I calmly awake in a very still fashion and instantly I know I'm not alone. The bedding surrounding me is ice cold, the tips of my fingers and my lips feel like ice cubes. I blink, and widen my eyes, my eyelashes feel like hot ash on the ridges of my cheekbones. The hole in my chest feels heavy and hollow.

I reach over to my son who is still asleep. He is warm, untouched, unharmed. His soft breathing eases me, but only for a moment.

I can feel them, but I can't hear them. I reach into the air above my bed, it's cold and sharp. It's dry, and stings my frozen hands. What do they want from me?

Death looms over my head, it follows me like a shadow. One can only assume after nights like these that my time is coming. It may not be death. But it scares me only the way death scares people. It scares me stiff, it horrifies me.

Within seconds, the blood rushes back to my face, my fingers tingle with warmness, and the empty hole fills with sleepiness. I close my eyes, and I see His face.

"It's been a while" He says.
I ignore Him and fall asleep.

Life throws you curves, but you learn to swerve.

2010-05-13T20:31:00.000-07:00

I was recently asked what I value most in life. My automatic response was just that, automated. I answered the obvious in my head- my son, my family, my job... And while I love those things, especially my son, dearly, I think it goes a little deeper than just the obvious. I think when we sit down and reflect on our lives, sometimes our reflections are a little vague. Okay, maybe it's just me who does that. I'm so wrapped up in the now that I lose sight of how I got here and where I plan to go. And here I go, thinking again.

My life has been a whirlwind of dramatics and severely drastic changes. Going from a high school student, to a United States solider, to a wife and mother, to a single mom in the span of 4 years isn't really taking it slow, is it? It seems like lately I've focused all of my attention on the perpetual burns my life has dealt me, and that makes me a fool.

So what do I value most in my life? My son, Big Pimpin', has taught me a lot about this particular subject. By the way, he is two- and I'm here to tell you that two year olds know more about the value of life than we do as adults. I swear. They are bona fide geniuses when it comes to life minus the whole screaming in aisle 3 at Wal-Mart because I want A CHOCOLATE MILK RIGHT NOW!

I could watch him live life for days and never get bored. Sure, he doesn't have a bill to pay or a deadline to meet. And yeah, he doesn't have to cook dinner or even wipe his own ass, but the boy knows that sometimes- just sometimes, it's all about him. He cares about his belongings, as if his 300 matchbox cars love him back. He'll eat his food when he is damn good and ready to eat his food. He'll poop in his pants and watch Dora all damn day if he wants to. And if he doesn't get the piece of candy he wanted because it was either that or he'd obviously die, well fine. He'll just go to his room and die. Then come ask me for candy again in 5 minutes. All he knows is that his needs and wants must be met before his world can continue turning. Then I must remember, he is two and all two year olds couldn't give a shit about anyone but themselves, but I digress.

Sometimes I live my life through pleasing other people. I think of what other people will think of me over what would make me happy. The praises and the contentment in formal and informal relationships seem to stress me out because it's all I worry about. The money in my bank, the ex-husband, the boss across the office, the bills, the ex-inlaws. I carefully and ever so tactfully walk on eggs shells around these things. I worry that one wrong move will ruin my reputation and forever burden my will to live. What about me? Have I forgotten that in my life, one of the most valuable things is... well, me?

So this time, this post, just this once, the thing I value most in my life is... me.

Kidney stones. HOLLER

2010-05-12T08:25:00.000-07:00

It's pretty much safe to say that kidney stones are very comparable to death. I happen to think that death is better, because at least you die and no longer have to deal with TINY STONES BEING SHOVED OUT OF YOUR PEE HOLE. I liked to die, ya'll. I woke up the other night with the worst "I have to piss, like, YESTERDAY" sensation, and upon urination, I fell to my knees off the toilet and saw Jesus' face. It took a few days, but I am better. Id honestly give up my eyeballs to never have to go through that again.

In other news, the cheapest divorce consultation I can find is TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS AN HOUR. What in the hell? I have one question, and I have to pay 200 dollars for the answer. I unfortunately googled the shit out of the question and found many conflicting answers. My 200 dollar question is as follows: According to Louisiana divorce laws, in an uncontested divorce involving minor children, is the 1 year waiting period (being physically separated from your spouse) before the divorce is granted BEFORE filing, or AFTER filing? In other words, do I have to be living on my own for one year before I can file, or do I have to wait one year after I file in order for the divorce to be granted.

I've lived on my own for over a year, so I am really hoping the waiting period is before filing. Id hate to have to wait another year for this to be over. Also, are there pro bono divorce lawyers? I can hardly afford to flush my toilet, let alone fork over ridiculous amounts of money for someone to draw up a few pieces of paper for two people who JUST WANT IT TO BE OVER.

James got me a card for mother's day. I didn't expect him to, but it's nice... since I am the mother of his child. It was a nice card, until he wrote this "...We may not be meant for each other, but you were meant to be my son's mother." ....which, uh, I guess is sweet in James' own way. Maybe it's because I know him so well that as I was reading it, I could hear his voice. I laughed a little. But it was nice. Weird, but nice.

Love is a steel framed version of happiness.

2010-05-03T08:15:00.000-07:00

Do you think that you recognize love right away? Or is it something that grows on you? Can it be both? Are they both acceptable?

I'm in love. These questions I ask are not asked so that I can justify the craziness I've been slapped with over the past month, but to have a conversation about love- and how it comes about.

My past experiences with love have been pretty unfavorable considering the confusion between lust and love is to be expected from an 18 year old pregnant chick. So I know the difference. Maybe I don't, but I can feel the difference. My failed marriage shed light onto what is and what isn't love. Not that love has a hand book that lays out the limits and rules to what love should be, but I am fairly certain "I hate you, you slutty whore" is not something that someone you love wants to hear.

Now, I've been seeing this guy for a month. I love him. It goes against what I've said all along, it goes against what your mother tells you, what your friends tell you... "Only a month? You can't possibly love him!" But I do. So there, I've said it... it's out there for all 3 of you to read. I've fallen in love with a man I've been seeing for a month. But here's the thing, I fell in love with him on our first date. Sparks weren't flying, we didn't have this unbelievable date that went perfectly, but the first time our eyes met my heart quit beating. It was a rainy day, extremely muggy, and there was way too many people out in the French Quarter. We went to the French Market grill and ate horribly made po-boys under a leaky airconditioning vent. We got lost trying to find the movie theater and ended up watching Diary of Wimpy Kid with thirty 12 year olds. The imperfections of the day fell to pieces around my feet because all I saw was that something I've been looking for. Happiness.

I didn't find the happiness in him or even in the way he makes me feel. I found it in the small moments through out the night, the stupid jokes, the rain that frizzed my hair. I continue to find this happiness. Maybe it IS him, maybe HE is the happiness, but I find it easier to find happiness in other things in my life because of him. We're in love, we're in happiness.

The Draft.. and other things.

2010-04-28T09:01:00.000-07:00

So the draft is over, report cards are handed out, and everyone is either happy, OK, or disappointed in their team's activity in the draft. It happens every year. How do I feel about Minnesota's choices? I'll let you know in November or December.

Grading the draft is about as useful as vacuuming your lawn. It's just something sports analysts have to blab about until training camp. There is no possible way to judge a player regarding a professional sport until we actually see them perform at a professional level. Sure stats are good to have, but they only let you know whether or not the player has a chance in hell, they let you know just how much work they'll be. The draft is a gambling game, you either hit it on the money, or you just drafted yourself an mediocre player. So, we'll see.

In other news, the divorce is finally happening. After almost 2 years. We agreed on everything, we do not own any property together, what's his is his, and what's mine is mine. As far as our son, Big Pimpin', I'm the primary caregiver. Holler for uncontested divorces! What a weight that was on my shoulders. I feel like I can breathe now. I feel like I can love again.

Which I am. I am in love.

Brighter Days

2010-04-27T10:30:00.000-07:00

I'm havin' them.

....Flamingo?

2010-03-30T15:51:00.000-07:00

Picture this:

A 6'4'' male, whiter than snow, decked out in Mudd jeans from the juniors section at JC Penneys, a white tank top with a glitter embedded skull and cross bones on the front, platinum gold eye shadow, wedged flip flops and one of those fuzzy back packs that looks like a stuffed animal. He's standing next to the cashier at the front of the Dollar General holding a giant plastic lawn flamingo chatting about his recent purchase. A crotch rocket.

He says, "Okay girl, I'm heading over to the varsity baseball game. I think I'm their biggest fan!"

My question? Why are you bringing a giant plastic lawn flamingo to a baseball game?

To kick me while I'm down.

2010-03-27T20:04:00.000-07:00

I always seem to crash and burn just when things start to look up. 60% visibility quickly changes to 0%.

Today I learned some news that slapped me in the face and made me it's bitch. My soon-to-be ex husband has a 4 month old daughter. After careful calculations were performed, I determined that the time of conception was about 3 months before we split. The final months we were together was the point in our marriage where we were trying to save our relationship. I mean, where I was trying to save our relationship.

The last 2 years of our marriage were heinous. I was the faithful wife who stayed home with the baby. He was the dick head. I wasn't naive, though. I knew he was marking his territory all around town. I just lied to myself. I lied to other people. But I knew. While I was at home in bed all alone, he was out giving my son a sister.

My son has a sister because his daddy cheated on his mommy.

I'm not in tears. I don't love him anymore, and I honestly wouldn't care if I never see him again. It's just slowly solidifying my up and coming decision to become a lesbian.

You Brettcha!

2010-03-23T11:12:00.000-07:00

NFL.com reported that Vikings coach Childress hasn't had a conversation with Brett Favre lately, but they do text each other.

Thank God. Because chances at being a super bowl contender this coming season greatly decreases when text messages aren't exchanged between the head coach and the maybe or maybe not quarterback.

Assuming Favre does come back for one more year, he obviously is going to skip training camp like he did last year and not publicly state he's playing again until after TC has ended.

Here is my question: If you were a member of the Minnesota Vikings team, how would you feel about Favre skipping training camp? Would it not matter to you because he, after all, is Brett Favre and has "earned the right"? Would you be kind of pissed, but for the sake of the Lombardi trophy, bite your tongue? Would you be pissed, period?

This was brought up in a forum about a month ago, and I was kind of shocked by the amount of people who chose the "I would be pissed, end of story" option. Considering his age, his value, and certainly considering the fact that last year (which was also training camp-less) was his best year ever, I wouldn't give a hoot if I didn't see him until 5 minutes before kick-off of the season opener.

Opinions?

If you could grow balls the size of North America and do something you just can't do now, what would it be?

2010-03-21T13:01:00.000-07:00

And I don't want answers like "Id get my nipples pierced" or "Id go sky diving."

Is there something you wish you could tell someone? Have you been keeping a secret from your significant other? Do you want to beat the hell out of your boss? Do you wish you could just pack up and get the hell out of dodge?

Please tell me I'm not the only scaredy cat here.

Tell me what you want to do, but are just too scared to do it... No judging here.

2010-03-19T17:44:00.000-07:00

MIA again, I know. I'm not sure if I even have any readers left, the two which did read. That's okay, I blog for myself anyway. Which means I am blogging to myself about blogging to myself right now. Spectacular.

My last couple posts have been mighty depressing. I think I may have mentioned at some point in one of them about how depressing my posts have been, you'd think Id learn, huh? Well, it's time to turn a new leaf! Turn the frown upside down! AKA be less depressing. It's hard when the depression you suffer from isn't exactly depression. I am suffering from a temporary break from general happiness. It's hard because there is nothing you can really do, it's not clinical, it's not something that can be treated, it's something you have to work on yourself. And when you're feeling like shit 98% of the time, motivation is extremely hard to come by. But I am doing okay, I can't say that I am feeling better, but I can say that I am trying.

I enrolled in an online university, I'll be getting my degree in Communications. I'm hoping it's a stepping stone to possibly attending physical class at an actual campus here in south Louisiana for Broadcast Journalism. (With a concentration in sports media, of course.) Watch out, Pam Oliver, here I come! I start on the 24th, and I am kind of excited. Insurance really sucks, in case you didn't know. I'm telling you, working in insurance is almost as bad as purchasing it. So I've decided to pursue my dream of being a sideline reporter. Or something like that.

I still talk to Mikey. He's supposed to come see me. I don't really know what else to say about it. I'm here, he's there, it's almost impossible and I'm not quite sure how healthy it will be for me to see him again.

I'm cursed to just walk in circles for the remainder of my life.

Football Sunday Withdrawals.

2010-02-27T19:29:00.000-08:00

I'm a little peeved. I was browsing NFL.com searching for any sign that Minnesota might have a reliable quarterback next season when I came across a headline that read: "League could change postseason overtime format."

WHAT!? Oh, sure. After Minnesota loses in OT to the Saints. Uh huh. Yup. That's cool.

The rule would be, the first team to score must score a touchdown in order to win right then and there. If a field goal is made, the other team will get the ball with either a chance to score a touchdown to win, or tie it with a field goal.

I never liked sudden death. Call me a girl, but it kind of isn't fair. Honestly, who usually scores first? The coin toss winner. EVEN if possession of the ball goes back and forth between the teams, the coin toss winner usually wins in the end.

Oh, with the exception of the Vikings, apparently. Thank you Chicago, December 28th.

But, in all honesty, the NFL needs to spend more time in the officiating department. Bad calls is a part of the game, I know. But horribly blatant missed calls? That's uncalled for. (Hehe, I'm funny.)

Walking in circles.

2010-02-26T07:41:00.001-08:00

People usually tell me "You're only 21. You have a lot of life to live, you'll find happiness soon."

I call bullshit.

I grew up in a household where I was provided for, and that is where it ended. My family cares about me, and they love me. But they don't need me. It wouldn't make a difference to them if I was here in New Orleans or home with them. My dad moved here for a few months, and just when I thought a great father-daughter relationship was forming, he left.

The fact that I am divorced at 21 doesn't say much either. It doesn't count, lust isn't love and there isn't even a fine line between the two. It's a thick line. The way I was treated during my marriage was equivalent to the way a lonely dog who is always caged up in the back yard is treated.

The guy I have been seeing that I told you about is leaving. He's moving home. I honestly felt like this was it, like I found someone who could help me be happy for once. He cried when he told me which leads me to believe that he did like me as much as I liked him. But his father is sick, so he has to go.

I don't care how old I am. Happiness isn't like becoming the legal age to drink, it shouldn't be limited. I think for what it is worth, I deserve a heaping spoonful of happiness.

Punking this out... cause thats what I do.

2010-02-25T06:56:00.000-08:00

So if you're in Louisiana (or anywhere, really) and you're in a giving mood, have I got something for you!

I'm the Louisiana Chapter President for the Pajama Program which provides new pajamas and bed time books for children in group homes and shelters. It is a nation wide non-profit organization that is on a mission to help kids who don't have moms or dads to tuck them in at night to have a good, cozy nights sleep.

Want to help? Sure you do!

First, if you're not in Louisiana and want to make sure your donations go to your area only, let me know and I will make it happen. If you are in Louisiana or you don't mind that your donations help out New Orleans and surrounding areas, make sure you tell me. We accept new pajamas in all sizes, 0 yrs - 18 yrs, and new bed time books. We also accept money donations in cash or checks, any amount.

If you're interested in helping, please contact me at georgette@pajamaprogram.org

If you're interested in starting your own drive, e-mail me at the above address, and I will help get you started.

For more information, please visit http://www.pajamaprogram.org

Keep falling away...

2010-02-19T08:57:00.001-08:00

I like to say I am staying busy. I am. I'm chasing paper, chasing love, chasing my two year old.

I've been dating someone who is in all honesty, one of the most amazing people I have ever met. But (seriously, yeah. there is a but.) he doesn't want anything serious. What he does and what he says are two different things, and I've been walking in circles all over this for the past month. I can't even begin to describe how nicely he treats me. It's a new thing for me, having someone there doing things for me because they want to, not because they have to. Also? The sex is consistently yummy.

Mardi Gras just ended. I've lived here for almost 4 years, I did the whole Mardi Gras thing for the first two years which was enough Mardi Gras to last me a life time. So the Superbowl (vomit) is over, Mardi Gras is over, everyone here has settled down and has become slightly less annoying.

It's difficult finding time for myself anymore. I'm writing this at work, which is gradually being considered my alone time. I'll make more time to post. Because, you know... my life is incredibly interesting.

Hey, you.

2010-01-29T06:57:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted in a while. I could blame it on my day to day busyness, but I'll be honest. I'm in the oh so familiar depression slump induced by the Vikings. We are cursed. And we fumble a lot, but I digress. I'm now looking forward to the next season. Will it be Favre? McNabb? T-Jack? It's a regular soap opera in Minneapolis, all the time. So I am going to swallow my pride for one Sunday, and be a Saint for a day. There is a difference between who I want to win, and who I think will win like I've said many times before. But I'm pulling for the Who Dats.

As far as my personal life goes, things have kind of settled for me. I feel like I can for once finally breathe easy. My dad has been gone for almost a month, all my bills are coming up- and guess what!? I have the money to pay them all! Sometimes draining your bank account until you have nothing left but the rotten bologna in your fridge can be kind of awesome. Only until I need a cigarette, and I've done collected all the tobacco from the butts to make one giant lumpy cigarette.

The cop stopped talking to me. Or, we stopped talking to each other. I think it was the age difference. Or the fact that he wears tighty whiteys. Honestly, I think the men I date get annoyed by my humor. I have very dry, sarcastic humor and these southern boys just don't understand it. Or I am just completely fucked. How well do you think a mass text message to all my booty calls will work out?

On a completely unrelated note: This morning at 5 AM I woke up and had to um, go number two, really badly. So in a digestive fit, I ripped my pants off, flipped on all the lights, ran to the bathroom and sat down. Mid poop, I look up to realize I had left all my blinds open last night and I can see clearly into someone elses apartment across the courtyard. What did I see? A woman, sitting on her own toilet, staring directly at me. Then she waved. It was at that point I had an epiphany. I'm fucked for life. Completely weird and awkward things will happen to me on the D for the rest of my life. Forever.

My computer is still gone. :(

2010-01-18T06:05:00.000-08:00

Notable things that happened over the weekend:

My dad left. Friday, he took off back to New York. It was weird going home after work on Friday with him not being there in my apartment. I had gotten so used to him here, him bringing me home candy from the store, just like when I was a kid... Him paying my cable bill, you know; meaningful shit. It's only been a few days and I honestly really miss him. I always think it's harder for the person who is being left than it is for the person who is leaving. He left at such a horrible time too...

Why, you ask?

Because I live in New Orleans. And who is coming to New Orleans?

THE VIKINGS BABY! Was anyone else happy about the perpetual ass beating we handed Dallas? I mean, our defense... My oh my.

I say "our" and "we" like I'm part of the Vikings franchise. Although I should be, I'm like an obsessed Nsync fan only it's the Vikings. I'm desperately trying to find tickets to the Superdome that aren't ridiculously expensive, and I am having no luck. Ole dude tried selling me two tickets in section 606 for $500. WHAT? Hell naw, homey.

But you can bet I'll be there tailgating. I'll even take pictures. Not of myself though, I like to remain a mystery.

Honestly? The Vikings victory and my dad moving back home were the only notable things that happened. Because my life is in shambles and nothing great happens to me. Not that my dad moving home was great, but I thought it was a good way to bring up the Vikings. Because I SUCK.

My PC shit the bed... UPDATED

2010-01-15T06:10:00.000-08:00

And is being fixed over the weekend.

In the meantime, I will leave you with this:

Our Favre-ther who art in Mississippi hallowed be thy name.
Thy bowl will come, it will be won, in Miami as it is in the Dome.
Give us this Sunday, our weekly win.
Give us touchdown passes, but do not let others pass against us.
Lead us not into frustration, but deliver us to the Super Bowl.
For thine..... is the MVP, the best of the NFC, and the glory of the Purple People Eaters now and 4-ever.
Amen

SKOL VIKINGS!

UPDATE: I just now realized how inanely cheesy that was. But I'm not going to delete it because I can't mess with mojo.

Post season picks.

2010-01-11T13:18:00.001-08:00

2 out of 4 isn't bad.

Okay, it is. Whatever.

Green Bay, oh.... Green Bay. I'm sure that game was lost due to horrible reffing. And don't say it wasn't, anyone with at least one good eye could have seen that offensive pass interference foul made by Arizona's Firzgerald, or the face mask to Aaron Rodgers by Michael Adams. But I digress. I hate the Pack by instinct, as I am a Minnesota fan... But I'm all about playing fair. That wasn't fair.

And how 'bout them COWBOYS? Realistically, the Dallas and Minnesota show down will be tough on my end. I'm certain most professionals have Dallas picked over Minnesota. But I've got Minnesota picked over Dallas. Partly because I'm a Vikings fan, and partly because Favre doesn't want his final season to end like that. It isn't all about Favre either. It's about his weapons. We shall see...

Rice, anyone?

I'm going to pick New Orleans over Arizona. Living in Who Dat nation, I have to say I am completely and utterly sick of the Saints. However, there is a HUGE difference who I think will win, and who I want to win. New Orleans will win, and I foresee a low scoring game.

Baltimore over Indy. Why isn't everyone giving this Raven team more credit? This one was tough for me to pick. I've sat here at my desk at work looking over the statistics for at least 25 minutes (work? what work?). Indianapolis has Baltimore beat all over paper. But, you know... I'm a sucker for upsets.

And although I am a sucker for upsets, this is one upset that just will not happen. I'm picking San Diego over the New York Jets. Honestly, I see San Diego clobbering New York, stomping through the AFC championship, and possibly winning the Super Bowl. They're good.

But what do I know?

HAHA. There are so many things I could say about this. So many.

i kick ass at living.

2010-01-07T19:53:00.000-08:00

Talking on the phone is something I hate. I talk all day on the damn phone at work, the last thing I want to do is chit chat with some ole homeboy and listen to his ridiculous stories. I don't even remember what the fuck he was talking about because the whole time I was trying to think of a suave way to get him to shut the hell up. So after an hour and 30 minutes of listening to what sounded like death, I said "Oh, jesus. Look, my dad is really baked right now and I think he locked himself in the bathroom. I'll call you back."

Sometimes, I just don't give a fuck.

I swear, penis is not all I care about.

2010-01-05T17:52:00.000-08:00

This past weekend I went to The Cop's house. We watched a movie, had sex, then watched another movie, which vaguely reminds me of high school except neither one of us was stoned. Aside from the ridiculous Vin Diesel movie we mutually thought would be a good idea, it was nice. The sex and the comfortable quietness was refreshing. I think we're past the awkward getting-to-know-you stage, so boring each other with useless tidbits about our childhoods wasn't a requirement. We ended the night with a kiss, and him telling me he hopes to see me again soon. Yay me!

I also met Navy Dude. A first date, if there will be one, hasn't been established though. We'll see. He's a little goofy, and really, really nice. Like charities and violently cutting people off on the road so he can pull over and help the old lady bring her groceries into her house nice. Totally not a type Ive been into before, but why not? Beggars can't be choosers now can they?

That sounded horribly desperate and "I don't care as long as they have a dick" of me. Really it's more like... I don't care as long as they have a dick and somewhat of a personality. I'm kidding, for the most part. I promised myself Id be good to myself from now on. I deserve more than a personality with a nice sized cock, but I kind of feel like that's all I need right now. I won't fight a nice connection, but I'm young and I have too much on my plate that I can hardly handle. Worrying about men should be and is on the bottom of my list. Fun is all it is, and fun is all it will be for now.

I feel better.

Kind of. Maybe.

Playoff Picks, Wild Cards.

2010-01-04T06:16:00.000-08:00

It's playoff time.

I'll start with the AFC Wild Cards.

I'm going to pick Baltimore over New England. There isn't much to say about this game, I think it will be a good battle though. Tom Brady is playing injured, and the Ravens D-Line will be after him all. day. long. And Wes Welker is out, leaving Randy Moss by his lonesome. Nevertheless, it will be a great game to see.

Cincinnati over the J-E-T-S Jets! Jets! Jets! Despite Sunday night's loss 37-0 to the Jets, the Bengals instill a little more fear into the remaining AFC teams than New York does. Cincinnati has been such a surprising team this season, and have a lot emotionally invested into this year's playoffs. I really think they will get their ducks in a row and slap the Jets back to NY. Stat wise, comparing the two; NYJ is seemingly better, but come on. Does this pretty boy honestly scare you?

Uh... Definitely Hollywood Joe #2.

On to the NFC!

I'm going to pick Dallas over Philadelphia. The Cowboys are on fire, and they're very scary. They finished the regular season with a bang, and are rolling into the playoffs with a lot of momentum. I think so long as McNabb is shut down, the Eagles will have been defeated 3 times this year by the Boys.

...Mustache?

And finally, I am picking Green Bay over Arizona. Aaron Rodgers has become a really great QB this season. Green Bay is just an all around better team than Arizona. Also, Id love to see the Vikings get another chance to slap those cheeseheads again. ;) (I know, I talk a lot of trash.) But honestly, no one should put the Pack on the back burner, they have too much quiet talent.

Happy Playoffs, ya'll!

A letter to myself.

2010-01-03T13:03:00.000-08:00

Me,

Happy New Year. 2009 was rough for us wasn't it? It wasn't the best year, and I honestly cannot say "But lessons were learned." because they weren't. They were taught, but they weren't learned. We wasted a whole year aimlessly walking through situations and problems and struggles. Face down, arms up in a weak defense, I couldn't even face you. I let you take blow after blow to the face, and never made an attempt to help you up off the floor. I let you drink yourself stupid and I let you exhaust yourself in an endless worry. I have a few promises for you that I intend to see through. Hear me out, give me one more chance, and I'll try 100% to not let you down.

I promise not to beat you up over failures this year. I'll pick you up, dust you off, and help you learn from your mistakes. I promise to be good to you. I'll take care of you, and be nice to you, and pamper you when you really deserve it. I promise to help you breathe, I'll let you relax, I'll let you sleep at night instead of worry about bills. I won't let you be lonely, if that means I have to force you to socialize. Staying cooped up in this apartment wasn't good for us. This year lets get out there, make new friends, learn something new, it'll help. And lastly, I promise to be your best friend. This year will be better, we'll make it a good one. Smile, this is just the beginning.

Don't lose who you are. You're a good person, karma is a beatiful thing when it finally happens. One day, good things will find you, embrace you, and take you on a thrilling ride. But these things you can't look for, they just randomly slap you in the face when you least expect it. So don't write yourself off. I won't say "things could be worse" even though they could be. But you've spent way too long focusing on the worse things. Let's focus on you. You deserve it, you deserve to take care of yourself. I'm here to help, I promise... I'm not walking away this time.

With love,
Me.

Nine.

2009-12-26T11:16:00.000-08:00

In June my dad moved from my home state of New York to live with me here in Louisiana. He hit a rough patch in NY. More like an era rather than a patch, but whatever. It took me 2 years to convince him change may work. So for 8 months he's tried his luck here in New Orleans. He landed a fantastic job, he ate foods he's never had, he met crazy Cajuns, and most importantly- saw me and his grandson every day. We agreed to help each other financially, which frankly helped us in more ways than one.

On Christmas he told me he is moving back. Why, I don't know. But he's leaving on January 22nd. I suppose I'm not mad, I had planned to move him out of my apartment and into his own by spring anyway. I just hadn't planned on him moving back north. After I left my ex, my family assumed I was going to move home to New York. But I love New Orleans, I love Louisiana, and I've really grown to love the south. I've never felt more at home as I have here.

I moved out on my own 3 months before he moved to Louisiana. But this is it- my true test. A single 21 year old mother on her own. No help, no extra income. Just me, my son, and these bills. Honestly, I paid all these bills while my dad was here. He just occasionally gave me gas money or took us out to eat, or sometimes surprised me with a kitchen full of groceries.

The thing that gets me is the sudden "Welp, it's been fun, but adios mother fucker!". I'm glad he is doing what he wants, but damn homey. I can't be mad, I really can't. In fact, this will make it easier for me to have, ahem, guests over. Speaking of which, The Cop and I have become pretty fond of each other. Unfortunately, his transmission blew, and my car is in the shop. We live about an hour apart mostly due to traffic, but I am seriously looking forward to seeing him again. Which really means I am looking forward to having sex with him. It's been a while folks, and I really need to get laid.

Getting laid solves everything. Well... No, it solves everything.

Eight.

2009-12-22T20:30:00.000-08:00

Single parenthood.

I'm not the first person to take on parenthood full time, alone. And I'm not the first person to write about it, nor am I the first to admit it sucks and I am certainly not the first to say Id rather be drunk. But I am still going to write this, because I have to. It's not something I can share with my parents, and all of my close friends are just finishing their finals for this semester and are at home celebrating the Holidays without me.

So I am sat here, with my Absolut and my unlit cigarette. (because yeah, yeah, yeah, I go outside.) The vodka has already thinned my blood significantly enough to let this come out easy.

I'm a good mother. He's only two, so the proof is few and far between. Reliable proof is a little hard to share, as they are receipts, warm clothing, and a stocked pantry full of his favorite items to digest which is really just about anything edible. The snuggles and HEY MOMMY!'s and the empty candy wrappers from bribing him to poop in the potty shaped like Elmo can work too. For Christ's sake, the child knows what a rhombus is. He is two! A rhombus! TWO!

But I am exhausted. I'm not cut out to be a mom, I never was. I don't know how to get there. In high school, I was dubbed the girl who would marry last and never reproduce. And wouldn't you know, I was the first for both. I'm tired, and hungry, and I savor every moment I have when he is sleeping. There are times when I cry because Id rather be out being 21. There are times when I cry because that tantrum he threw in Wal-Mart? I had to deal with it by myself, and I had to leave my cart full of groceries stranded in aisle 6 so I could take him home hoping his screeching didn't bother anyone. There are times I kneel beside his bed while he sleeps, and I ask him to forgive me for wishing I was elsewhere. I cry when I have to spend my gas money on diapers. I cry when he hugs me with all the love he has inside of him. I cry when he asks for daddy. I cry when I see a family on an outing, and I wonder why I can't have that.

My car is in the shop. It's fixed and ready for pickup, but I used the $1400 for his presents and a tree and lights to hang. He deserves it. He's such a sweet, innocent baby who wants nothing but a hotwheels car and a block of cheese. I cave and I crumble, I spend too much and I leave nothing for me. I long for a night alone, a glass of wine, a blunt, a paycheck that is for me. I am honest. It isn't fair, I didn't sign up for this alone. But here I am, me and my love, and the blue eyed child sleeping in mommy's bed dreaming about Dora or that red haired chick from the Fresh Beat Band. Eventually the vodka wears off and I am left with a heavy heart and an empty bottle. Eventually I will get over this, I tell myself.

But my sweet angel, I will never leave you. I know taking care of myself is important, but I can wait. I am all yours.

Seven.

2009-12-21T17:43:00.000-08:00

Week 16 picks.

Julius Peppers is a bad, bad boy.

Last week was horrible and great all in one. (For me, at least.) Horrible: Vikings loss. Great: Saints loss. Also? My picks sucked. This season has proven the truth behind any given Sunday. I can only be thankful Julius Peppers didn't break Favre's bones into pieces. He's still sexy. (What can I say? He's a silver fox.) As the Saints loss really meant nothing to Vikings after Sunday night, it was a personal feat for me. The satisfaction in not seeing a single "Bless You Boys! 14-0!" sign anywhere in the greater New Orleans area sent me into uncontrollable happiness. I even went out and dropped another $180 on Christmas. And the complete and utter ass slapping the Giants handed the Skins? Holy fuck. Was Washington even there? I'm pretty sure it was just Eli and Co. on the field. Enough blabbing, on with my picks.

Friday
SD @ Ten
Sunday
Buf @ ATL

KC @ Cin

Oak @ Cle

Sea @ GB

Bal @ Pit

Hou @ Mia

Car @ NYG

Jac @ NE

TB @ NO

STL @ Ari

Det @ SF

Den @ Phi

NYJ @ Ind
Dal @ Was

Monday
Min @ Chi

Six. A depressing six at that.

2009-12-20T20:11:00.000-08:00

The Vikings lose. Is it me, or do they just play horribly on Sunday nights? What an embarrassment, but such is the life of a Minnesota fan. This will make my work week a little bit more horrible than usual. Sometimes I wish I hated football, these stomach ulcers are starting to be a pain in my ass. Jesus Christ, I need a new hobby.

The Cop texted me sporadically throughout the day. I caved and asked if he really did want to see me again which probably made me seem insecure, but I am so whatever. He said "Absolutely, unless you do not want to see me again." Then I ended up analyzing that particular text, got all pouty, and drank 3 spiked eggnogs in a row. What is my problem? Why can't I just text carefree without having to get lit afterwards? I'm considering bringing a flask of vodka to work tomorrow because lord knows Ill be all up at my desk over analyzing e-mails that I get from the underwriters I work with. That's how insecure I am.

I'm not the type of insecure that women who need men in their life are, I'm insecure about those who already are in my life. I spend 50% of my day worrying about who thinks what about me. If someone doesn't like me, it bugs me until I'm some how convinced they actually do like me. I can blame this on my failed marriage which is what I usually do, I think it developed somewhere between the 1st and 2nd affair. I can also blame it on the fact that I avoid conflict by any means possible. Id even be happy if The Cop politely explained how great of a person he thinks I am, but I'm just not his type, just as long as he doesn't call me a crazy bitch and tells me to lose his number.

I think I may need counseling. Or a joint.

Five.

2009-12-19T11:25:00.000-08:00

We went on a traditional date... coffee, conversation, then a movie. It was nice, he was refreshing to me. Older, but not exactly set in his ways. He was nervous, I was too, but slightly less than he was. He mentioned a second date, we'll see. He ended up texting me this morning, he went out with his buddies after our date and was hung over earlier. I'm not so sure that is a good sign for me. Going to get lit after a date with me?

I'm afraid that sometimes I come off as a pretty girl with a tight dress on and that's it. I think that I am often cut short, hardly given a chance to prove that I am not just a polished shell. I shouldn't have to prove anything, but I can't seem to find anyone that takes the second impression into consideration. I'm hoping we do have a second date, but I won't count on it, as I never do.

I'll stop this short day, or else I'll end up over analyzing everything.

Four. (Serial Dating)

2009-12-17T00:01:00.000-08:00

I've been single for about a year now, and I've gone on a few dates. And by a few, I mean 8 or 9. I'm not lonely. I started dating because I thought it would be fun, instead I want to cry.

You see, I am young, fun, and Id like to think I am a sexy bitch. But I have some baggage. I am divorced and I have a 2 year old, it's more cargo than it is baggage, but I digress. It's hard keeping men around when you're all "Oh by the way, I am 21 and I have a two year old." So many times I've had a serious connection with someone, and as soon as I mention my kid, they are immediately dry humping some chick on the other side of the room. Understandable.

Men my age aren't really men, in my opinion. Not yet at least. There isn't anything wrong with that, as some women my age aren't really women yet. (I say only some because, well, come on. Women are much more mature and vaginas are prettier than dicks, so we win.) Honestly, if it weren't for my son, Id be right out there with them. Carefree for the most part, enjoying my early twenties. Even if I were to find a guy my age who has a child, chances are (especially here in New Orleans) he still hasn't crossed the manhood threshold yet. Id like to think I am an expert on this because I was married to someone who couldn't grasp the fact that it is not okay to sleep with women and stay out all night while you have a wife and infant at home.

So I am going on a date this Friday with an older man. (That sounds funny. No, he's not 83.) He's 16 years my senior, 37. Huge problems could arise from this age difference, but huge problems could arise from anything when it comes to dating. And it is just a date. But I over analyze and freak out over everything. And because he's a sheriff, I will refrain from smoking a joint before the date, how fucking paranoid would I be?!

Three.

2009-12-15T10:45:00.000-08:00

Week 15 Picks

Because what is honestly more important than football? Nothing, that's what. We may not have a paycheck, our sanity, or a pot to piss in, but we have football. So who gives a damn?

My picks are in bold. Note the New Orleans game. I've decided to wire the entire state of Louisiana to a loud speaker which will play the Price is Right loser music over and over when the Saints finally lose. And as much as I strongly feel the urge to vomit every time I see Tony Romo's face, as a Vikings fan, I need the Saints to lose. Plus, I'm tired of the the "Ho Ho Ho! 13-0" and "Geaux Saints!" signs flashing in my fucking face everywhere I look.

Indianapolis @ Jacksonville
Dallas @ New Orleans (I'm hopeful, okay?)
New England @ Buffalo
San Fransisco @ Philadelphia
Miami @ Tennessee
Houston @ St. Louis
Atlanta @ NY Jets
Chicago @ Baltimore
Cleveland @ Kansas City (Snooze fest.)
Arizona @ Detroit (No, this is the snooze fest.)
Cincinnati @ San Diego
Oakland @ Denver
Tampa Bay @ Seattle
Green Bay @ Pittsburgh
Minnesota @ Carolina
NY Giants @ Washington

Two.

2009-12-14T00:01:00.000-08:00

Santa, aka my debit card, has been working diligently to make this Christmas a merry one. I have a 2 1/2 year old son, but no significant other, and because I only have one person to buy major gifts for, I'm only half scroogin' it this year. But I still think to myself "he BETTER play with this" every time I swipe the card.

I now know what my mom meant because of when she caught me butting cigarettes out in the battery pack of the Furby she bought me 4 years earlier. I had no ashtray, okay? It was my fault though. I was the one who was leaving her threatening notes about what Id better find under the Christmas tree that year in her weed paraphernalia drawer.

So I shopped tactfully this year. Normally, things I purchase for him either end up in his pants or the toilet.

Id like to see you stick this art easel in your diaper, little guy.

One.

2009-12-12T12:34:00.000-08:00

If someone you knew got completely stoned out of their mind and told you about their theory of how the government is trying to take over the tobacco industry and furthermore the American people by planting microscopic jellyfish in cigarettes that when inhaled, burrow themselves into your brain and take over the way you think... What would you say?

I don't know either.