Showing posts with label blogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogs. Show all posts
Sep 21, 2009
No quiero a leer en español
Yeah... so I was surfing around Blogger getting reacquainted with some of my old haunts. Is it just me, or is every other blog in Spanish? Cripes. They should sort the blogs by language so readers don't have to waste their time. Y sí, hablo español. Sin embargo, yo no quiero a leer acerca de telenovelas y problemas de emigración. Me gustan tortas de carne asada. Envíe por favor una receta de cocina.
Sep 19, 2009
She's baaaaaaaaack
Yeah, so I took my attorney's advice and deleted all of my online accounts. Except I didn't. I let this one lie dormant for awhile. Everything else is gone. I have been feeling the need to write again. I still loathe my ex, but a lot has died down since I last blogged.
By a stroke of good luck, I discovered that my ex got a job. A quick phone call to the child support enforcement people, and some nice, fat garnishment checks started coming my way. ***siiiiighh*** that's the sound of me breathing out.
Moved to a new place. It has more bedrooms but waaay less storage space, so we're trying to adjust. The yard is great, and the kitchen is sublime. Cheers to new beginnings.
Got a part time job. It's doesn't pay the bills, but it helps.
Started my own business. It doesn't pay the bills, but it, too, helps.
Got engaged. Trying to scurry and pull this wedding off in December. Yeah, that's 3 months from now. I'd have my head examined, but I don't think insurance would approve. By the way, once I get married I won't qualify for medicaid anymore. Fiance doesn't have insurance. We'll both be outta luck chuck.
So here's my rant:
I am so sick of people. Yeah, people in general. My kid is being a turd at school, and I'm tired of dealing with it. Tired of dealing with him and the principal and all that crap. WTF? I'm sick of the dumb bitch I work with who's the biggest loudmouth negative person on Earth. I have to pretend we're friends. I'm sick of my bipolar, freakazoid, micromanaging, can't-ever-say-I'm-wrong boss. No explanation needed there, eh? I'm sick of the fucktards who post "deep and meaningful" Facebook status messages about the economy, health care reform, taxes, or anything remotely related to Ayn Rand. If you were really that smart, then you'd be in office. Shut up. I am sick of dirty clothes and messes and having a house that's 70% trashed all the time. I am sick of kids who don't do what I say the first time. I'm sick of kids and their entitlement mentalities. I'm sick of feeling like ass because I quit smoking and the Chantix makes me tired and nauseated. I am sick of jonesing to smoke and not being able to. I am sick of the stupid bar skanks and jackballs who frequent our little neighborhood dive. Really, who do you think you're fooling? I am sick of stupid clients who couldn't find their ass with both hands and a map. But most of all, I am sick of the wretched, heartless bastards who decided to cut off my financial aid permanently. Ever hear of an exception to the rule? Douchebags.
As you can see, I'm dumping all the negativity that I've been carrying around. Good therapy, and it's cheaper than a shrink. My favorite team lost today, and all I want to do is shout "FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!" and break shit and throw things. I really could beat someone up right now. I won't though because I'm too damn good of a citizen. I'd bitch-slap the coach if he walked by right now, though.
So anyway, there that is. I just needed to blow my stack, and I can't do it on Facebook. Too many people that I have to make nice with. I can't do it in real life because it would erode and eventually tank my relationship. I love my fella, and I don't want to use him as a dumping ground. I can't do it on girlfriends because then I have to listen to their sodden bullshit, and really, I could care less about their problems right now.
You are my selfish release. Today this blog is my verbal toilet. I don't intend to proffer wit, provoke thought, or enlighten the masses. Today is just about me. ONLY ME. Fuck you.
I'll be back from time to time. Please don't comment unless you have something really great, funny, or interesting to add. No critiques please. Gayass comments will be deleted without a second thought. I have to be politically correct in real life; thank goodness this blog isn't real life.
By a stroke of good luck, I discovered that my ex got a job. A quick phone call to the child support enforcement people, and some nice, fat garnishment checks started coming my way. ***siiiiighh*** that's the sound of me breathing out.
Moved to a new place. It has more bedrooms but waaay less storage space, so we're trying to adjust. The yard is great, and the kitchen is sublime. Cheers to new beginnings.
Got a part time job. It's doesn't pay the bills, but it helps.
Started my own business. It doesn't pay the bills, but it, too, helps.
Got engaged. Trying to scurry and pull this wedding off in December. Yeah, that's 3 months from now. I'd have my head examined, but I don't think insurance would approve. By the way, once I get married I won't qualify for medicaid anymore. Fiance doesn't have insurance. We'll both be outta luck chuck.
So here's my rant:
I am so sick of people. Yeah, people in general. My kid is being a turd at school, and I'm tired of dealing with it. Tired of dealing with him and the principal and all that crap. WTF? I'm sick of the dumb bitch I work with who's the biggest loudmouth negative person on Earth. I have to pretend we're friends. I'm sick of my bipolar, freakazoid, micromanaging, can't-ever-say-I'm-wrong boss. No explanation needed there, eh? I'm sick of the fucktards who post "deep and meaningful" Facebook status messages about the economy, health care reform, taxes, or anything remotely related to Ayn Rand. If you were really that smart, then you'd be in office. Shut up. I am sick of dirty clothes and messes and having a house that's 70% trashed all the time. I am sick of kids who don't do what I say the first time. I'm sick of kids and their entitlement mentalities. I'm sick of feeling like ass because I quit smoking and the Chantix makes me tired and nauseated. I am sick of jonesing to smoke and not being able to. I am sick of the stupid bar skanks and jackballs who frequent our little neighborhood dive. Really, who do you think you're fooling? I am sick of stupid clients who couldn't find their ass with both hands and a map. But most of all, I am sick of the wretched, heartless bastards who decided to cut off my financial aid permanently. Ever hear of an exception to the rule? Douchebags.
As you can see, I'm dumping all the negativity that I've been carrying around. Good therapy, and it's cheaper than a shrink. My favorite team lost today, and all I want to do is shout "FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!" and break shit and throw things. I really could beat someone up right now. I won't though because I'm too damn good of a citizen. I'd bitch-slap the coach if he walked by right now, though.
So anyway, there that is. I just needed to blow my stack, and I can't do it on Facebook. Too many people that I have to make nice with. I can't do it in real life because it would erode and eventually tank my relationship. I love my fella, and I don't want to use him as a dumping ground. I can't do it on girlfriends because then I have to listen to their sodden bullshit, and really, I could care less about their problems right now.
You are my selfish release. Today this blog is my verbal toilet. I don't intend to proffer wit, provoke thought, or enlighten the masses. Today is just about me. ONLY ME. Fuck you.
I'll be back from time to time. Please don't comment unless you have something really great, funny, or interesting to add. No critiques please. Gayass comments will be deleted without a second thought. I have to be politically correct in real life; thank goodness this blog isn't real life.
Dec 9, 2008
Born again virgin?
I guess I'm popping my blogspot cherry... again. I had a blog back in the day, but I deleted it. Since then, I'd gotten my feet wet blogging again, this time on MySpace. Frankly, it bored me, so I deleted my MySpace account. MySpace is full of freaks and psychos who love to hate ya.
Perhaps I'm one of those people who needs constant stimulation and entertainment to feel alive? That might explain my skydiving adventures, persistent wanderlust, and penchant for Jagermeister. Regardless, here I am. Since I don't have "friends lists" to contend with (good riddance), I've unlaced the gloves and peeled off the tape. I'm tired of withholding in order to placate the crazies.
Maybe that's why I've found my way back to blogspot: to say what I want without starting a flame war. Plus, I've been beyond exhausted. Thanks to my ex-husband's lack of follow-through when it comes to child support, I am flat-on-my-face broke. My brother has been yanking my chain lately, too, which is really starting to piss me off. Lastly, Christmas and three kids' birthdays really take a lot out of this woman. I fall asleep every night on the couch around 9. I haven't had sex since Sunday (today is Tuesday), so I'm tired, horny, broke, and spun out.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining. I managed to hoodwink the most incredible man on the planet into a loving, caring, passionate partnership. My kids rock. I'm in school studying what I love. Everyone's healthy, all the Christmas presents are wrapped, and I am under a glorious down comforter on this cold winter's night. Life is grand. I'm just kinda tired and stressed out lately. You should SEE my calendar. It's ridiculous. If you want to hit me up for a drink and some girl talk, you'll have to make an appointment. My next available evening is three weeks away. No kidding.
So here I am, a reborn blogger. I guess if Lazarus can rise from the dead, so can I. I'll write what I want when the mood strikes. No rhyme or reason. If you have a fun topic, shoot me an email. I'll run with it. But now, I'm out. Ciao.
Perhaps I'm one of those people who needs constant stimulation and entertainment to feel alive? That might explain my skydiving adventures, persistent wanderlust, and penchant for Jagermeister. Regardless, here I am. Since I don't have "friends lists" to contend with (good riddance), I've unlaced the gloves and peeled off the tape. I'm tired of withholding in order to placate the crazies.
Maybe that's why I've found my way back to blogspot: to say what I want without starting a flame war. Plus, I've been beyond exhausted. Thanks to my ex-husband's lack of follow-through when it comes to child support, I am flat-on-my-face broke. My brother has been yanking my chain lately, too, which is really starting to piss me off. Lastly, Christmas and three kids' birthdays really take a lot out of this woman. I fall asleep every night on the couch around 9. I haven't had sex since Sunday (today is Tuesday), so I'm tired, horny, broke, and spun out.
Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining. I managed to hoodwink the most incredible man on the planet into a loving, caring, passionate partnership. My kids rock. I'm in school studying what I love. Everyone's healthy, all the Christmas presents are wrapped, and I am under a glorious down comforter on this cold winter's night. Life is grand. I'm just kinda tired and stressed out lately. You should SEE my calendar. It's ridiculous. If you want to hit me up for a drink and some girl talk, you'll have to make an appointment. My next available evening is three weeks away. No kidding.
So here I am, a reborn blogger. I guess if Lazarus can rise from the dead, so can I. I'll write what I want when the mood strikes. No rhyme or reason. If you have a fun topic, shoot me an email. I'll run with it. But now, I'm out. Ciao.
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