Monthly Archives: November 2011
My guy is the love of my life. He sticks by me through all of life’s chaos. Win or lose, he is always standing beside me and making me stronger because he is near. He’s not judgmental and he accepts me and my mistakes. He is truly, my very best friend.
My guy had a rough beginning to his life but by looking at him or talking to him, you wouldn’t know it. He always seems happy and he never lets you know that he could care less about what you are talking about. I’m not really sure how he feels about some conversations we have but he leads me to believe that he is interested in my story and he really cares.
Don’t get me wrong, sometimes he annoys the piss out of me. He’s messy and he leaves his shit laying all over the place. I am constantly tripping over something of his that he has managed to leave strewn about the house. It drives me completely insane when he throws the pillows off the couch and then proceeds to claim the biggest of the couches and leave the loveseat for me. At times, he is inconsiderate as hell. The most inconsiderate thing is when we are cuddling and he smothers me with butt smoke. I could kill him at that moment.
I worry every time he goes out and I wonder if he will find someone new that will make him happier. I am constantly checking up on him and bugging him any time he leaves the house. Jealous? Yes, I probably am. Scared? For sure. I fear for the day that he leaves and slips off the one form of identification that tells the world that he’s “taken”. He has strayed away from me before and it was the worst time I’ve ever had. My life was full of loneliness and despair and I knew that if I didn’t have him, nothing would ever be the same. Thankfully, he came back to me.
I get annoyed when we are out and I see him looking at girls. It hurts me to think that I ruined his chances with someone that could momentarily make him happy. I look at him and wish he didn’t feel a sense of longing but I guess every guy feels it.
He loves cats, which is totally weird. I’ve tried to get him to like dogs but he gets very angry and shows and tells me just how much he despises them. I guess I should be happy that he likes the cat. They make a weird pair, though. Seeing him loving on her seems so strange.
My guy has been with me a long time, longer than any other guy. 11 1/2 years to be exact. He’s helped me raise all 3 of my kids and I couldn’t be happier to have such a positive thing in their life. He shows them so much love and affection and he’s always there for them when they need him. He’s caught so many tears and heard so many stories.
My guy is THE guy. My guy, is a beautiful mutt that was made just for me.
If you are friends with me on Facebook you may have seen a post yesterday evening where I asked, “If you were to give money or donate time to a cause, what would that charity or cause be? And, GO!!! (a cause besides my boob job fund)”. This wasn’t another one of my pointless Facebook ramblings, there is actually a very important purpose to the question.
Every year on my birthday, I try to do something for someone or something else. It’s weird, I know. The day is supposed to be all about me. I guess that I feel like my purpose is that I was put here for a reason and what better day to do what I can to help others than on the day I was born. What’s the point in celebrating the fact that I came screaming out of a vagina? We all do.
This year, I wanted to make things more fun and exciting and I’ve been thinking of a way to get my friends more involved. Last year, quite a few friends helped me celebrate my birthday by volunteering or donating items or money to the Kansas City Animal Shelter. This year, I want every single person in my life to help me celebrate my birthday and our friendship. How is that going to happen? Well, here goes!
It’s hard for me to narrow down what charity or cause is most important to me because there are so many that I care about. So, I am taking that responsibility out of my own hands and I am throwing it into the hands of fate and my friends. This year, I have decided to form my own event for charity. I’m sure you want to know, “What charity?”. Here’s the kicker…
On a date to be determined very soon, I will have my birthday party. At that party, we will have Poker and Bingo. For every entry into Poker and every Bingo card bought, you will be given a raffle ticket and you will be asked to write the name of your favorite charity or cause on the back of it. You will then take the ticket and place it into a bucket and at the very end of the night, one charity will be chosen and they will receive EVERY cent collected. This charity will be drawn blind from the bucket. For every dollar donated, you earn a “vote” for the organization of your choice. So, if you really care about something… the more money you donate, the more chances you have of your charity winning! Just to clarify, said charity or organization MUST be verified to be legitimate and I do reserve the right to verify before the money is actually donated. The drawing will be held in a public place with numerous people in attendance so everything is accounted for. I will have someone else handle the money, etc. I will also have a ChipIn page set up soon where you can begin making donations. You can also track the progress on this blog.
The day of the event, there will be an entry/door fee. The “fee” will be that you have to bring at least one item off of a list that I will also post shortly. I plan on collecting for animal shelters and homeless shelters so you may be asked to bring bleach, paper towels, gently used clothes, etc.
Yes, this is going to be a huge undertaking and could turn out to be a disaster but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Like an old man with Viagra, I go hard.
Love, Peace & Chicken Grease,
15 years ago I never thought that I would be driving to work with tears streaming down my face and Adele softly singing in the background. All over something horrible that my very own child would say. 12 hours ago, I told myself that it wouldn’t hurt so bad in the morning. All these tears tell me otherwise.
My day was bad already. I shouldn’t have looked for trouble last night because it had found me easily everywhere I tried to hide all day. When my son was looking for someone to turn his anger on, I should have just let him place it with his dad like he was already doing. I shouldn’t have cared enough to get involved. Sadly, I did and I can never ever forget the pain that I am feeling at this moment.
Last night, my son wished that my kidney failure would speed up so I would just die. Okay, he called it liver failure but I got the point. Why did he want me to die? Many reasons… but at the top of the list was the fact that his dad bought him Modern Warfare when it came out and I haven’t dropped everything to take him to get it. He told his father that I was lazy and didn’t ever do anything else and that I always had excuses like the boys being sick. Funny, I didn’t know that when he was stepping in vomit for 4 days that it wasn’t real. I must have fabricated everything in my own mind. I am surely crazy.
I know he’s a teenage boy, I know we all probably told our parents at one time or another that we hated them, maybe that we wished they would die. We never noticed the pain or disappointment on our own parents faces because we didn’t care. As teens and children, it was all about us. When the tables turn, they are tossed over so hard they shatter in pieces with the splinters shooting into your heart and tearing your soul out. They aren’t just words, you see. They are so much more.
I was just a child myself when that little screaming kid came tearing out of me. I was 17 and not much older than he is today. I thought that giving birth was the scariest thing a parent could experience. Boy, was I wrong. Birth is the easy part. From there it goes downhill fast. What’s the most beautiful thing in the entire world is also the most difficult thing you will ever do.
I’m not sure how long I will carry a lump in my throat and a heavy heart. I hope I forget about it soon but I have a feeling that this is something a parent never really forgets. I’d rather have the “sticks and stones” and the broken bones than the pain of those words.
Mom, I’m sorry.