I'm still here!

Wow, it's been too long since I posted. I've had a case of the lazies a lot going on recently, I guess. Right now I've been focusing on spending time with The Hubby rather than anything else. I haven't even spent time with my family since the end of January, but I'll finally be seeing them tomorrow. With this shift, I get up, go to work, get off at around 9 pm, and then had been staying up until about 1 am. A lot of progress is being made on the house; we have a new front door, complete with a bit of a porch, and drywall up and plywood down in the living room. We need to work on the ceiling some, including some new ceiling fans, but after that it should go pretty quick. Plastering, sanding, and getting the floor installed, slap a coat of paint on the walls and it's done! Well, minus furniture... We're revisiting the idea of bean bags as the sole furnishings in the room, considering our income at the moment.

I've also been sick as a dog this past week, and missed a day-and-a-half of work, so next week's check is going to be pretty damn slim. Ah well.

There are just so many changes happening in my life right now, or changes that I know are about to happen, I'm just walking around kind of shell-shocked these days. This year is already going by so fast, I can't believe it's almost the last week of March. That means it's almost April, which is a month away from Josh leaving for boot camp, which for me is the deadline for the house to be finished. I don't want people traipsing through my house without him here, and I'm pretty worried that if he leaves before it's done the work is going to stop anyway, and then we'll either be scrambling to finish it to sell it or having to sell it unfinished. I don't want us to have to do that... We need to make as much money from the sale of this house as possible. Granted, it's not going to fetch us much money, but all I want is enough to pay off our debt. I want as clean of a slate as possible when we go off in this new direction.

Anyway, not much to this post, I just wanted to touch base and let you know that I'm still alive and kickin'!

Buffalo!

The majestic buffalo. (Or bison, depending on how particular you are.)

Covered in plaster, because he's our rebuild mascot.

This particular little sculpture was supposed to be for luck. The In-Laws had given it to The Hubby when he first got out on his own. It's a hefty old thing, and for the longest time it had been sitting on a shelf on the wall behind our couch, along with a few pictures and some other knick-knacks we possessed. Honestly we're not big on "decorating," so anything like that was of sentimental value and had been given to us from someone we cared about. Although we're still working on the house, any shelves we do put in will be purely for necessities, not looks. Nail holes in the wall would just be something to patch up later when we move, so we're not even worrying about it.

But back to the story, this particular buffalo was meant to be lucky, and I never ever liked it. I was constantly trying to get The Hubby to part with it, to no avail. It was awkward, and heavy, probably 5 pounds, and was always placed in an inconvenient spot. But the spot above the couch was the worst idea ever, in my opinion.

See, the wonder-kitties were always perched on that particular shelf. They'd jump from the windowsill onto the back of the couch onto the shelf then usually down onto one of our surprised shoulders. (Then down onto the stomach or lap then down to the floor, all to be repeated later, but I digress.) But they loved the hell out of that shelf, and trying to get them down always resulted in our pain, so we gave up. This is why I hated the buffalo's location.

Still, it surprised me when it happened. I was sitting on the couch next to The Hubby, watching TV, when one of the kitties jumped up there and while trying to slink behind the buffalo, managed to knock it off the shelf and onto my poor, unsuspecting shoulder. Unsurprisingly, it hurt like hell. That little bastard was heavy, and the edges that aren't rough were sharp, especially around the base. At first The Hubby laughed it off, until he realized I was being quiet because I was holding back tears. It hurt really bad, and it terrified me how close it had been to hitting my head instead of my shoulder. I had a cut and a giant bruise on my shoulder for days, so I wasn't seeing the humor in the situation yet.

Then I did. I mean, what's not amusing about it? I'm just sitting there minding my own business, and suddenly *buffalo!* It became the moment I thought about every time something inexplicable and ridiculous happened. Those moments where you just want to ask the universe "WHY?!", I could shrug off with "Because *buffalo*." It even became a running joke with a friend at work... Anytime things went insane, we'd just look at each other, shake our heads, then shrug our shoulders and say in a resigned voice, "Buffalo!"

Things don't have to make sense. If I can get mauled by a buffalo in my own living room, anything can happen. Because buffalo.

We still have him, by the way. He survived the flood and now I can't bear to part with him. He may be vicious, but he's a survivor, dammit, just like we are.

Have you missed me?

Hello, Blog, it's me. It's been a while, and a funny thing happens when I ignore the call of blogging for a while. The amount of things I could write about continues to grow, so I keep putting it off because I don't know where I should start anymore.

I mentioned already that we have moved back into our house. We've been functioning fairly well without any kitchen appliances other than our fridge and a microwave, but we've also been strongly feeling that we're spinning our wheels. I had been working days and The Hubby had been working second shift, so there wasn't a lot of time being devoted to working on the house. Then I started working second shift too, but still. Weekends were focused on relaxing and spending time together, because we had absolutely zero energy for anything else. However, this meant we'd been spending all this time without moving any closer to our goal of finishing the house. So there went Plan A: doing the work on the weekends. We don't have much time left before The Hubby leaves for boot camp, so it's been time to kick Plan B into place: The Hubby became a Househubby.

But don't go thinking he's just spending all his time loafing around and watching the complete Dragon Ball Z series on DVD since he quit his job. I've gotta hand it to him--he's been kicking ass and handling shit like a BAMF, running errands and taking care of business while I'm at work. I'm pretty sure the only reason the whole house isn't already finished is because it was raining off and on all last week. Not anything major, but enough to be irritating and prevent them from hauling too much in the back of the truck. One of the bigger tasks we have to accomplish is installing a new front door in a place where there wasn't one already. So again, the rain and chilly weather kind of puts a damper on things like that. But a wall in the living room is sporting new drywall, we now have a cabinet for the kitchen sink, the rest of the lower kitchen cabinets have been ordered, we have a counter top, and this week we'll finally have a kitchen stove. Yay!

I think that at this rate *hopefully* it could be finished within the next couple of weeks. I just want for it to be done early enough that The Hubby can enjoy the amazing work he's put into it before he has to leave. I wish we had had the means to do all this sooner, without the "means" having come as a result of a devastating flood. I'm so happy with the way it's turning out, but at the same time I know that we'll be selling it soon.

Looking back on 2011.

So it's getting disgustingly close to the end of the 2011, and although I'm giving 2012 the stink-eye it's a glare that is tempered with a tiny glint of hope. Next year will bring a lot of "firsts" for me, mostly because of The Hubby's new and exciting career choice. And although it's terrifying and more than a little stressful to be facing all these changes, I truly am excited. Now it's time for me to put up or shut up... Am I the super-tough, badass, independent babe I claim to be? Or am I simply the "baby ox" I am jokingly referred to as ("I'm strong as an ox!" "Pssh, maybe a baby ox, probably a fetal ox.")? We're about to find out in 2012, y'all!

Like many others more talented than myself, I thought I'd figure out my "Best Of" blog posts this year. Here goes.

In January I talked one of my favorite people, a mother of a gorgeous little girl, into starting up a blog. Her love for her daughter and for a more researched brand of motherhood spoke to me, even though I have no children myself. (The furry four-legged kind don't count in this situation.) I thought she would be well-served to take her passion onto a more open forum than Facebook, and hoped she'd be able to inspire others as she'd inspired me. Unfortunately she hasn't posted much beyond those first couple posts, but hey--they rocked! She's got a lot on her plate right now, but my fingers are crossed that one day she'll work around to it and put that passion out there for a wider audience.

In February I decided to stake my own claim in a tiny slice of the blogosphere, although my start was less than impressive. A few days later, though, I finally got around to why I needed to start blogging. I needed something to help me work out all the changes in my life, and to chronicle my "journey" back to (hopefully) some semblance of sanity and confidence.

In March, I was astounded at the pages Google Reader suggested I visit... at least until I visited them. I profusely cursed St. Patrick's Day, and shook my head in amazement at a couple awesome but poorly-thought-out purchases. I seemed to be off to a pretty good start. The posts weren't coming daily, or even regularly for that matter, but I was doing pretty well at not letting it sit un-updated for long.

In April I continued on my awesome-ish posting streak, sharing a horrible Mean Woman Week story (but also a poem!), gave my few readers a taste of my personal brand of depression, introduced Teh Kittehs, and established a possible menu for the imaginary restaurant that I will never start because I have no interest in owning a restaurant or in cooking.

Then tragedy struck. My home was damaged in a horrible flash flood, leading to about a week solid of nothing but chaos. It was close to the end of the month, and I didn't get the chance to post for a while, so...

May's posts started out with a hell of a bang. I had no idea what was going to happen next, all I knew was that suddenly we were essentially homeless.  There was very little posting that month, because there was a whole lot of stress, but I did manage to sneak in a post that was fun to write.

June only brought a couple of posts, but one of them is one of my absolute favorite posts (of mine, anyway), because I firmly believe that you should treat people how you want to be treated. Being a dick ultimately gets you nowhere, and you'll most likely be angry the majority of your life if you keep putting that out into the world. I'm a rant-er, and this was prime rant material, although I personally think that it has a positive message!!

July brought another one of my thoughtful posts, where I express my amazement that people continue to believe in my ability to do anything, ever. Fake it 'til you make it is damn right.

August didn't bring a lot of posts, because it was kind of crazy and I wasn't feeling so chipper. I'll just post those links here without a lot of description (there were only three), because they all meant something different to me. Which do you like best, if any?

• The power of "no."
• My inner emo-kid emerges.
• Scratch that.

About halfway through September I finally started picking up steam again, post-wise, but there were only a couple of gems in there... I finally introduced myself using my actual name rather than using "The ZB," which is a small step toward being more comfortable with blogging but is a step nonetheless. I also told the nail-biting and hilarious "tail" of our juggabuttin' kitty getting stuck in the attic. That was one of the high points of my year, once I regained the ability to breathe and laugh.

In October we mourned the loss of a most fabulous fowl, whose side-of-the-road strut will not soon be forgotten. I also mourned the loss of my original Kindle, but soon My Dear Replacement Kindle took its place of permanent attachment to my hands.

In November I broke the news of The Hubby's enlistment, and later I wrote about my feeling stuck in limbo while waiting for everything in my life to come together.

December has been another crazy month. I've just left my retail job to go back to the factory job, albeit at a higher pay rate and in a position without a time limit. Yay! But there's been some bumps along the way, some super busy days and some super crazy days, and even an exhausted but somewhat desperate letter to Santa.

This has truly been a helluva year, and I'm so glad it's over. My first *calendar* year of blogging has been a doozy. Hopefully 2012 will be a better, happier brand of crazy.

Sometimes you just have to go with it.

It's just been one of those days. Not a super-bad day, by any means, but still. I got almost no sleep last night, most likely because I knew I had to get up "early" today. At work people were aggravating as hell, and the receipt printer kept jamming up, and I barely even knew what day it was. But I ended up getting to go home early today, which allowed me to get some things done. So that was good. I went to drop some stuff off at our house, then went back home. After pulling into the driveway and shutting off my car I realized I'd left my purse behind. Sigh. I went back to the house to retrieve it, and on a hunch I checked and verified that yes, I had in fact purchased the wrong color caulk. Ah well, it's paintable. Plus I got to complain about my stupid caulk. (In my own head, it was hilarious. I decided not to test the sound-alike jokes with the in-laws.) I gave up and went back home, making sure I had my purse with me this time.

I stopped and chatted in the living room with the in-laws for a minute, and it ended up turning into an hour-and-a-half gab session. Which is fine, I don't chit-chat with them enough, but it means I got to hear the same stories I've heard countless times before. My feet were hurting like hell from being on them all day, and all I wanted was to sit down. But I couldn't. If I sat down instead of continuing to lean against the wall near the hallway where our room is, that meant I was accepting the conversation wasn't going to be ending any time soon. Plus they had said they were getting ready to leave! I wouldn't want them to feel obligated to stay longer to chat with me. But dear sweet cheetahs my feet hurt, and after a long day and a night of no sleep I was wore out. And starting to get hungry, which after a remarkably short while flips my grumpy switch into the "on" position. But finally, sweet relief. I got food, and got to sit when they left.

I finally realized *today* that Christmas is next weekend. I keep thinking it's a couple weeks away, I have plenty of time to mentally prepare for it, no big deal. Mind you, this year I've been totally on the fucking ball--All the gifts have been bought, and all but one yet-to-arrive gift has been wrapped or carefully placed in a gift bag artfully stuffed with tissue paper. I'm much better at gift bags than wrapping. Historically, presents I've wrapped ended up looking like they were wrapped by someone with hooves. Martha-Freakin-Stewart I am not. I'm pretty sure the cats could do a better job. The Pants is nothing if not meticulous, as long as it doesn't require her to maneuver through a room. The Hubby can most definitely do a better job, which is why I steal his glory and place the blame on him for the botched jobs that I am in fact responsible for. This is our system, and it works very well. For me.

But this year it was all me wrapping the presents, and all but one got wrapped atop a pillowtop mattress. Not a big deal for someone skilled in the art of gift wrap, but for me it was the equivalent of someone with hooves (see above) wrapping presents aboard a ship sailing in choppy waters. To all recipients of gifts from us this year, my apologies.

I've felt more "festive" this year than I have the past few years, but that's most likely due in part to the fact that I am unable to decorate my home this year even if I wanted to. Now I can be all "I TOTALLY would have put up a tree this year!" without having to back that assertion up with action. Again, it's a win/win for me. But still, this is a big Christmas for my family, because with my two brothers and The Hubby doing the military thing, who knows where we'll all be next Christmas? Christmas also signals the almost-end of the year, so I'm also a little on edge for that, too. Gots to reach my goal of being in my own home by January!

...Aaaaand I just got sucked into a half-hour-long Youtube-fest, thanks to Facebook. I started here ("Oh God, I can smell his face!") and ended up here. I love Jenna Marbles. The Hubby introduced me to her channel a few months ago, and I am so happy he did. 

What was I saying again?

Yeah, "joyful" wasn't going to happen today.

3. Open letter to Santa Claus.

Dear Mr. Claus,

I'm not even going to lie. I haven't exactly been my ideal self this year. I've been lazy, I've eaten too much junk food too often, I've flaked out on friends and loved ones, I've made seemingly whim-induced life changes that have gotten me nowhere, I've hidden from everyone, I've become a bit of a harpy at times, I've retaliated against passive-aggressive behavior by becoming more passive-aggressive than I've ever been at any other time in my life, I've wallowed in self-pity, I've raged internally and at anyone "safe" to rage at, I've started a blog to unleash myself onto a somewhat-anonymous format, I've successfully and unsuccessfully battled depression, I've made plans and set goals I didn't/couldn't stick to, I've been ashamed of myself, I've been furious at myself/everybody/everything, and I've blamed others for things that are my fault--or aren't anybody's fault.

I don't believe in God. But I do believe in random miracles, and I do believe in redemption. I do believe in love, and family, and friendship, and charity, and community, and forgiveness, and kindness, and happiness, and hope. I do believe in doing what's ultimately right, even if it hurts in the moment. I do believe in making sacrifices and in finding the silver lining in any dark cloud.

I know that your typical atheist should not give a crap about Christmas. And honestly, I go back and forth over it. But I still love the general sense of happiness and love and family that is much more freely expressed around this time of year (with an being exception in retail--you stand between an old lady and her expired coupons and the only sense of "family" you'll get is when you're crying "UNCLE!" as she glares and stabs you with her bony elbows.). I'm hoping that the universe, and you, Santa Claus, will throw me a metaphorical bone here this year. Really, all I am hoping for is peace. I'm hoping that things will miraculously align in such a way that I will be able to live peacefully in my own home by the end of this year. I know it's a lot to ask, and that there are a lot of things that need to be done. I know that my home won't be completely repaired for a while, but if you could help a girl and her hubby out a little and make it liveable I promise I'll go as much all-out as I can next year. I'll decorate a tree, I'll put up lights, bake cakes and pies and cookies from Thanksgiving to New Year's Eve, occasionally listen to (Santa-not-Jesus related) Christmas music, and I'll put a wreath on the door. Maybe I'll even host a party with fancy clothes and finger foods and apple cider or lots of booze. I don't drink, but by golly my guests will. And you know I don't like my home being invaded by large groups, Santa, so you know I'm willing to make sacrifices here. All I want for Christmas is to not still be living in someone else's home in any part of 2012.

Also, The Hubby would like a good 3D TV.

Hugs,
Beth

Holding pattern.

If you're here looking for a laugh, check out the hilarious reviews for this amazing product. Seriously, who doesn't need a pair or two of handerpants?? And if you're not impressed, there's always the classic Three Wolf Moon shirt, where I can always find the most epic, amazing reviews that can instantly cheer me up.

* * * * * *

In any case, that was the "phoning it in" fluff so the few readers I have don't forget about me, and know I'm still alive and haven't forgotten about them! If you're here to read a rambling wallow in self-pity, read on, because after this sentence comes the *actual* post.

It's been almost 2 weeks since I last posted, and I am ashamed of that. It's not like I haven't had plenty of time on my hands, or plenty of ideas for posts... I actually have a ton of drafts of posts started, but I just haven't seemed to have the energy to do much but sleep or read or snack or watch shows on the computer or anything else that doesn't require much getting up off my butt or thinking. I go to work, come home, and blah. On days when I don't work, all-day blah. Folks, I think it's safe to say that the depression is back.

There was a couple of weeks solid where I was crying at the drop of a hat, and every time I went to sleep it was nightmare after nightmare. I just want to be left alone, I'm extremely irritable, don't feel like doing anything productive, and just want to sleep all day. That oh-so-familiar empty feeling is back, and I feel like my job is not helping at all. I'm basically selling my weekends and ability to make plans, and the tiny paycheck is totally not worth it.  I've already had to miss one event with my friends that I really wanted to be able to make it to, and I don't want to have to wait until Christmas to see my family again. This will most likely be the last year we'll all be together for a while, and it sucks ass that I will most likely only be able to spend a few hours with them on Christmas day. I so hate working retail. I've sent out resumes, but no luck so far. There's just not a lot of hiring going on right now, and although I totally rock at everything most places are looking for people with experience that I don't have, or it's more freaking retail.

I'm just kind of miserable right now. I hate that I've moved backwards like this in the job department. I hate that in every other aspect of my life I'm just in this kind of holding pattern, waiting. Waiting for our house to be finished. (I hope it's done by Christmas, and the fact that I have to *hope* for that pisses me off. It's been 6 months. It could have been done twice by now. "Progress" keeps getting stalled.) Waiting for a different job to come along. Waiting for The Hubby to leave for and be done with boot camp and all the training after that so we can get out of here and away from some of the toxic cycles we're stuck in. Waiting for our life to start. It feels like starting over, and I wish it would hurry up already. I feel like I'm about to lose it, but I can't allow that to happen because I wouldn't even be able to simply deal with it in the privacy of my own damn home.

November News!

So there's been a lot going on in my life here lately... Not so much a "constantly staying busy" thing as a "a hell of a lot on my mind" thing. And until some of it had sorted itself out I wasn't really feeling like I could blog about it. Plus, The Hubby had requested that I keep a bit of it under wraps until some things were squared away. He's a much more private person than I am, and I respected his wishes and waited until I got the go-ahead to spill. But enough with the cryptic bullshit, eh? Here's what my month has been like so far.

This past week The Hubby went through MEPS, the Military Entrance Processing Station. He has been sworn into the Marine Corps. He's been back and forth about wanting to do this for the past couple years, but he's finally committed to it. He started talking to a recruiter a few months ago, had to make some changes before and after going to MEPS for the first time a month or so ago ("clothing" a tattoo on his back, and getting the holes in his ear sewn up--he had two holes stretched to 0 gauges), and then waiting on going back to MEPS for the second time so they could verify the changes and get him sworn in.  At this point he's not going to be able to ship out until around the beginning of May, and he'll be going through the 13-week boot camp in San Diego.

How am I feeling about all this? Honestly, I couldn't be happier. Any time he has mentioned the possibility of entering the military I have supported him. I think this is a great opportunity for him, and a great opportunity for us. I know it will be difficult for us both, in very different ways, but totally worth it. We both understand the risks involved--with our country having been at war for the better part of a decade it would be foolish for us not to anticipate a Marine to be deployed into a war zone. They have made it clear that because he is married his first permanent duty station will be within the continental US, but after that? It will all just depend on his job and where he is needed. I will admit to feeling some trepidation... After all, I talk a big game about my independence and toughness (I'm super tough.), but my hand has never been forced like this. Being without him for a weekend is one thing, but I'm about to be away from him for a solid three months while he's in boot camp. And then another month for combat training. And then up to a year while he's at his MOS (Military Occupation Specialties) school. And then at some point I know I'll have to face the separation of deployment, and everything that means. At least he'll get some time in between all that to come home, and while he's gone for boot camp and all the training after that I'll have the support of my friends and family nearby.

But in the meantime, and throughout his military career--whether he stays in for four years or until retirement--we'll just do our best to take it one day at a time, and deal with whatever comes our way. Besides, it gets us the hell out of this area. We'll be selling the house as soon as I'm able to move with him. Unfortunately, it'll probably still be a while.

But that's not all that's been going on... November also marks my youngest brother's birthday. I adore that kid--even if having just turned 18 he's officially not a kid anymore. I spent the Saturday after his birthday with my family, celebrating at Buffalo Wild Wings and at Mom's house with a homemade ice cream cake and lots of music. Youngest Brother had a friend over who, like Y.B. is talented with a guitar. I had so much fun listening to the two of them singing and playing guitar. Our house had frequently been filled with music in the past, but it's been a while. At least for me, because The Hubby doesn't play as much anymore and Y.B. isn't always playing when I'm over there (which is nowhere near often enough). Y.B. has also enlisted in the military as of this month, but like my other younger brother who is older than Y.B. (he will be O.Y.B. I guess...) Y.B. has enlisted in the Navy. He will most likely be shipping out sometime around August or September. Lots of big news in my family these days.

However, the same day that I was celebrating with my family, The Hubby was mourning the loss of his maternal grandfather with his. If it was any month other than November, I would have been with him. But there is no way I would have been able to handle a funeral that day. In any case, things have been a little rough lately for The Hubby's family. Maybe in another post I'll talk about why I personally find life a little more difficult every November, but I'm not feeling like going into that right now. Besides, this post has been long enough, don't you think?

Keep your chin up, kid. (Or something else positive.)

September is halfway over, ish. It has not been good to me. Surely (or maybe not) you remember this post from the end of last month, where I mentioned losing one job and starting another the next week? That was all well and good, as it kept me getting a paycheck for a couple more weeks, but I absolutely couldn't stick with it. Turns out answering phones at a call center is not a job I would ever want in a million years, and although my coworkers seemed cool and not every call was awful, I didn't get to interact with my coworkers much and most calls were, in fact, awful. Just because I was able to calm the majority of the angry people on the phone down does not mean I wanted to keep dealing with assholes.

For future reference to anyone who reads this, if you have to make a phone call because of a question or a problem, please understand that it's not the person answering the phone's fault that the wait is long, nor is it generally their *personal* fault that your shit ain't working (especially if they're in another state/country), and it sure as hell isn't their fault if your shit ain't working because you haven't paid your bills. And yes, you most likely DO owe "all that," and having them repeat over and over in 10 different ways why you *do* in fact owe all of it does not make it any less true. And although you aren't exactly calling someone on their personal phone when you call a company regarding a customer service issue, it is in fact a full-fledged, living, breathing human being you're talking to on the other end. And they don't like being treated like shit any more than you do. Yes, there are some idiots that answer the phones, and there are some that have serious attitudes. But maybe if they weren't having to deal with people yelling, cussing, lying, and threatening them all day they'd be a little more relaxed rather than feeling like they're pulling out a sword for self-defense when they're putting on that headset. It's a vicious cycle.

I lasted a couple weeks before I couldn't stand the thought of going in another day. I don't like feeling like I'm being verbally assaulted every time I answer a call, and that's seriously what happened. I understand that people are pissed or confused when something's wrong, and that the wait to speak to someone gives plenty of time to stew in it. But again, give the person answering the phone a chance! Also? Hanging up on them doesn't solve your problem. It doesn't get your services turned back on if you haven't paid your bill, and if you hang up after threatening to switch to another provider...  It's not exactly weighing heavily on the heart of whoever you were just screaming at unnecessarily. (When are people everywhere going to figure this out? Same issue in retail!) Besides, we all know that if you want any further help you're just going to have to call back and wait again. You're basically fucking yourself over at this point.

So what all that means is that I'm unemployed again. Huzzah. And we're still living with my husband's parents. *sob* And it's the time of year when I already tend to be, um, emotionally frazzled (yeah, that's what we'll call it...), for a number of reasons. Plus there are approximately 2,439,576 different things going on with friends and family at the moment that make me want to make an effort (why must I love?), and The Hubby's got something kind of major in the works, but I'm not going to talk about that until we know more.

I just hope that something breaks soon, whether it's a new job, the house getting finished, or whatever, so that I can stop feeling like everything's so up-in-the-air. Everything's just a big question mark right now, and it's driving me nuts.

But hey, no job means more time to post! In theory. Yeah, totally more time to post.

Nice little surprises.

Our plans have changed, as they so often do. We are in the process of repairing our mess of a house so we can move back in it. Hopefully one day we'll sell it. But in any case we're using this opportunity to make the improvements it has desperately needed--even changing the floor plan a little--and are going to make it a house that we enjoy, rather than one we tolerate.

I was talking to a friend at work, and she asked me how long I'd been married. She was surprised when I replied "Six years," mostly because of how young I still am. When she asked "Why?" as people ask me almost every time I mention being married (most people assume an unexpected pregnancy is what led us to marry at 18/19... Nope!), I simply grinned and said "We're just crazy like that, I guess!" This time, though, the response I got to that was different than usual, and was doubly unexpected due to this person's generally sarcastic nature, which is actually something I love about her.

"Well, I guess it worked. You guys seem to be that lucky couple who still like each other, and it's not like I hear you complaining about him all the time, griping about 'THAT IDIOT' or anything."

And that was it. There was no second guessing my choice beyond that automatic first reaction of surprise, no expression of doubt that it is as good and solid of a marriage as I say it is, and no cynical statement of the statistics that insist we're doomed to divorce. (And according to the stats, there's a lot going against us--our ages, family histories, lack of religion, length of time dating before marriage, and our socioeconomic status.) There was no launching into tales of how they or friends or family members or friends of friends or family members got married young and divorced soon after.

There was no need for me to defend myself and my marriage, in all the ways I sometimes feel forced to do, which then makes me feel frustrated and ashamed, because how do you explain a marriage to someone, and why do I always end up feeling like I'm supposed to try? Why do they ask why I got married? What do they expect me to say, if it wasn't "I got pregnant"? (Never mind, they ask because they expect me to say exactly that, so they can be smug about it and say "I figured as much." Eat it, ass hats.) Why do people say asshole things like "I'm glad I  didn't get married that young," or "There's no way I was ready to get married when I was 18," or whatever else they find to say that simultaneously appears self-deprecating and gets across their negative judgment of my decision to do just that. It's similar to when people say asshole things like "At least you did things the right way and got married first, instead of having kids first like I did" or "I wish I could sit around and relax, but I get bored after a few minutes and have to get up and clean or something," or "What are you talking about? You're not fat, I'm fat."

Nope. All I got was a thoughtful, refreshing to my aching ears, "Well, I guess it worked." And you know what? It did, and it still does. And honestly? It works better now than it did when we first got married. And seriously? Isn't that the way it should be?



*Note: In case it wasn't clear by my calling people who talk about it like that "assholes," I could care less in what order someone experiences children and marriage, or if they ever even get married. I personally don't think there's a "right" way or timeline to do things, and it irritates the hell out of me when people judge others for having children without being married. Even when they say that about themselves, expecting you to feel uncomfortable and either placate them or agree with them(?), which would just piss them off and lead them to say that you think you're better than they are. Again, these people are assholes, in my opinion.

Productivity is for losers.

Chocolate chip cookies at 5:30 in the morning? Why yes, I think so. And they taste just as fabulous as I thought they would.

I had the most lovely 3-day holiday weekend, which included a trip to the theater to see "Bridesmaids" (a movie that was exactly what I needed at the moment and I'd love to go see again and again), a night spent ripping drywall and flooring out of the house (well, mostly I watched and played with our favorite stray kitty), house hunting, and a wonderful amount of time spent with that husband of mine.

Of course since this was such an active, busy weekend for us the temperature decided that it was time to stop fucking around already and we spent the whole time sweating balls. This led me to reiterate my rule that our next house needs to have central air. Please. I'm tired of having one liveable room, with the rest being a sauna in the summer and an icebox in the winter. I'd try and include fall and spring, but fall and spring here are a joke. I think we had some nice spring-like days in February, before the temps dropped back down to "icicles hanging from your eyebrows," then swung back up to "Don't you DARE sit next to me, it's too hot for that shit!", and then back down to frigid.

In any case, I didn't work  last night, but went to bed "early" because we have an appointment at 3:15 to see what kind of home loan we can qualify for, so we can start narrowing down our search for a house and get serious about it. Unfortunately, despite having taken a sleeping pill to hopefully help me sleep through the night, I still woke up on our rapidly-deflating air mattress, my left side actually touching the floor, and forced the hubby to instinctively cover his junk in his sleep as I stepped over him to head to the bathroom at 2:30 A.M, only about 4 hours later. After the quick pee, I tossed and turned on the floor/sad excuse for an air mattress trying to get back to sleep, but as I now look at the clock it says it's 6:25 and I'm blogging.  This is only a little bit by choice... If I could choose, I'd be drooling on my memory foam pillow right now, but if I'm cursed with insomnia like this I'll gladly share my misery with any poor fool bored enough to read about it. I think this week we'll be taking the little bit of money we have saved up and will buy an actual mattress. If THAT deflates we'll know it's time to re-think our diets, and possible contact an exorcist.

Update, and a pop quiz. (No pressure.)

So I worked 3rd shift last week, and was supposed to work 1st shift again this week... That lasted one day before I was moved to the other plant, and shifted up to 2nd shift. And tonight I ended up working a 12-hour shift, getting off work at 1am. It really wasn't bad at all though, I enjoyed the line that I was on tremendously! However, my bony booty is sore from having to sit on a metal stool (BTW: Really, Body Fat? There's plenty of you in my stomach and thighs, couldn't you relocate just a little to my ass?), and I can't go to bed until the laundry finishes at least the first cycle in the dryer. I really wish some stuff didn't have to go through twice before being dry enough to actually wear... (I also wish *someone* in the household would notice they are ALMOST out of something rather than panicking the night before or the day it is needed and they have nothing clean. But that's another battle better left unfought for now.)

ANYHOO, if you're wondering why I've been slacking on posting lately, that's why. Work, and sleep. Sorry. (But also, chill.)

Just to tide you over a little right now, I'll assure you that I haven't been totally neglecting this in thought. I recently started going back through my MySpace blog (shut up.) to see what is salvageable before I delete that profile. I would have deleted it long ago if not for the fact that THAT blog got me through a tremendously difficult time in my life, providing an outlet where I felt I had none. Perhaps it's the hoarder in me coming out, but I am pretty attached to some of those posts, and am considering whether or not to post some of them in their entirety over here. Of course they'll be a couple years old, but once you read them you'll see where I'm coming from. Or I could just post a general synopsis of what was going on in my life in the days of the MySpace blog.

Any thoughts, comments, opinions? You're the ones that will be reading, after all (hopefully)...
So in this case I'm seriously requesting honest feedback from my dear blog-reading friends. How would you like me to handle this situation?