Archive for the ‘Me’ Category

AWESOME Weekend!

***WARNING:  Picture intensive post ahead***

Best weekend I’ve had in a LONG. TIME.

Started Saturday with a bonfire at my mom’s house.  My brother used to have one every year, but I’d never been invited before.  😦  Well, seeing as this one would be the LAST he’d have, we all showed up (well, all except the Prince of Darkness…he said for DC to call him when my sister and I left.  I stayed till the bitter end >:) )

I LOVE fire.  Love, Love, Love it!  So this bonfire was right up my alley.  DC had gathered a pile of sticks and twigs and such from the yard…It was a rather substantial pile (hard to see from the pic, but the pile was taller than my brother!)

The Ever-Growing Pile

We had also had a pile of papers, books, furniture, boxes, etc. that we’d found around the house that we would have trashed, but decided to burn.  Burning is always a fun thing 😉  I don’t have a picture of that mess, but lets just say we emptied one whole shed, half the garage and probably 3-4 rooms in the house 😀

DC doused the pile with some gas and then doused the torch.  We lit the torch and then the fun began!  Lemme tell ya, that fire was AWESOME!!!  Oh, it was just beautiful…




We reunited with some old friends and made some new ones.  Even Peanut made a new friend 😉

Peanut & Adorable Girl (and Mona)


We stayed until about 1 am.  Peanut was BEAT by the time we got home, but he gave me no guff.  Carried in what I’d asked him to and then went straight to bed.  I’m hoping young, Adorable Girl, is having a positive effect on my Peanut!  🙂

Sunday I had planned to take Peanut to The Walking Dead Safari at the Valley of Terror.  I think I may have been as excited, if not more-so, than Peanut! 

It wasn’t until we’d gotten there, that I’d remembered taking him and my nephew there before (when they were little).  We only picked pumpkins and played on the hay bales then tho.

We got in line (behind 3 Air Force soldiers!) and bought our tickets.  Even got a discount.  😉


While we waited for dusk, we wandered around a bit.  I walked up to one of the trucks (a military deuce and a half!  OMG!  My military-loving Peanut was in his glory!) and asked one of the gentlemen if I could get a picture of Peanut in front of the truck.  He did us one better and told Peanut to climb aboard!

Woo Hoo!

FINALLY it got dark enough to load up the trucks!  Unfortunately, we were *just* cut off for the first run.  We did make the second truck tho.  OMG we were both so excited sitting on the trucks with our guns (paintball, filled with glow-in-the-dark paint balls…how freakin cool is that?!)

Ready to hunt zombies!

O.M.G. Was that an experience!!  Two of the Air Force soldiers were on the truck with us and were screaming “LEFT SIDE!  LEFT SIDE!” or “RIGHT SIDE!  RIGHT SIDE!” to get us to shoot (we were right side 😉 )  Those poor zombies were COVERED in paint!  And I couldn’t tell you how many head-shots they took.  LOL  Peanut is a pretty good shot.  I’m no slouch myself 😉  But, I conserved my ammo a bit more than he did, so I gave up my gun to him about 3/4 of the way through.  LOL

We enjoyed ourselves so much, we bought two more tickets and got back in line!  LMFAO.  The ticket guy was so cool, he let me keep our tickets the second time around because I scrapbook 😀

By this time, it was a LOT darker, so a tad more fun to hunt.  It never occurred to me to take pictures while on the hunt, so I snapped one at the last minute :-p

Glowing corn field

They weren’t hiding in this pic, but corn fields and woods were favorite hiding grounds of the zombies.  A few even got pretty close to the truck!

We got home about 1/2 hour late for the Season 3 Premier of The Walking Dead.  However, thanks to the wonders of DVR, we were able to watch it at 10 instead.  Talk about a zombie invasion!  We had a zombie-filled day and it was AWESOME!  (ooh, just noticed they have more webisodes…*squee*)

All-in-all, it was an awesome weekend!  I don’t think I’ve had that much fun in years.  🙂

One Year (and Two Days)

I’m a little late with this, but it’s been a rough couple of days…

Sunday marked one year that my mom was gone.

One year.

How the FUCK did that happen?

Sometimes, it feels like just yesterday, and others, it feels like it’s been forever.

Obviously, I still cry.  I cried on Sunday.  Yesterday, I finally removed my ICU nametag from the roof of my car.  I couldn’t bear to do it.  I still have my “spider butterfly” hanging on my visor (my mom had given my sister and I butterfly hair clips, black butterflies with silver spider webbing on it.  We wore them to her memorial service.  Halloween and butterflies.  Definitely and homage to mom).

I want my mom back.  It’s true, you don’t realize what you have until it’s gone.  She annoyed me (she was a mom, duh).  But she was always my go to for a pep talk…although hers were usually acidic lol  My mom pulled no punches.

It’s weird going through her house and incorporating some of her things into my home.  I can see my mom cringing at the disaster my house has become trying to find homes for everything.  LOL  I would ask her to come spend a few days, usually to watch the Widget while I was traveling for work.  Or just to spend time with us for a few days, and whenever I wasn’t around, she’d clean.  I’d come home and wonder if I walked into the right house!  It must be a mom-thing.  She would get offended if we came to spruce up a room or two at her place.

Like the time we wanted to move her from my brother’s old room ACROSS THE HALL to the room my sister and I used to share.  All we were going to do was paint it, vacuum and put her stuff in there.  She deserved a bigger room (she had traded rooms with my younger brother a few years ago…”all I do is sleep there” *sigh*).  She’d also be closer to the bathroom.  (The room my sister and I shared was actually considered the Master Bedroom, but my mom and dad chose the room at the top of the stairs so they could be the first line of defence against an intruder – and to stop anyone from trying to sneak in/out!  LOL)  She fought us tooth and nail and told us that she felt like we were judging her and saying she was a lousy house-keeper.  Oy

I miss her.  I miss her hugs.  I miss the way she used to stroke my hair when I was upset and laying on her lap.  That’s one of my earliest memories.  Laying on my mom’s lap, sleepy/sad and saying “do dis” and I stroked my hair back from my temple.  She always did that if we layed in her lap.  I do it to my little one (and friends’ little ones).  It’s very comforting.

I miss it.

I miss her laugh.  I miss the way she would snort when she laughed too hard.  Or fart.  LOL  She’d fart from laughing, go “I tooted!” laugh some more and fart some more.  It was hilarious. 🙂

I miss the way she’d call me on the phone, babble a bit and then say she was gonna let me go.  And then go, “ooh, one more thing…”  She’d do that about 5 or 6 times in the course of one phone call.

I miss the way her face would light up when the grandkids walked through the door. 

I miss the way she’d get embarrased at an off-color joke.  For all her years, she still played the “innocent”.

There are so many things I will miss…I’m not always sure how to handle the grief.  I mean, I was so little when my dad died, I have no idea how to handle losing a parent.  I know it’s a part of life.  A part of living life.

But it sucks ass.

Dirty, smelly, hairy ass. (she’d have laughed at that and then yelled at me for it).

I miss you, mama. 

I’ll always miss you.


Goofy Dreams

No, not a dream about Goofy.

I had a weird effin dream.  My friend’s daughter was playing in my yard.  Apparently, I was working on something that could hurt her and had told her parents to keep her out of the yard, because I didn’t want her to get hurt.

Well, she played in the yard anyway, tripped and started to fall on SOMETHING (I have no freakin clue what) that would impale her if she landed.  I dropped what I was doing to catch her and in the process sliced my inner thigh pretty good. 

As I’m arguing with her parents about why she’s crying and why I had a death-grip on her, I’m bleeding out.  Cold.  Light-headed.  Unsteady (because, come on, doesn’t everyone keep standing after they’ve had their femeral artery sliced?  OY)

Don’t remember much after that. 

So, obviously, I had to do a little research.  Get a load of this shit…



To dream that you are bleeding or losing blood signifies that you are suffering from exhaustion or that you are feeling emotionally drained. It may also denote bitter confrontations between you and your friends. Your past actions has come back to haunt you…If blood is squirting everywhere, then the dream implies that you are experiencing some deep emotional stress. You are literally bursting.

Well DAYUM!  It couldn’t be more on point! 

Here’s another one…

To dream that you are hemorrhaging suggests loss of vitality, loss of faith in yourself, and lack of self-confidence. Also consider where you are hemorrhaging from and analyze the symbolism of that body part.


To dream that your leg is wounded or crippled signifies a lack of balance, autonomy, or independence in your life. You may be unable or unwilling to stand up for yourself. Perhaps you are lacking courage and refuse to make a stand.

Ha!  This one makes no sense…

To see your thigh in your dream symbolizes stamina and endurance. It refers to your ability to perform and do things. If you are admiring your thigh in your dream, then it signifies your adventurous and daring nature. However you need to be careful with your conduct.



To save a child in your dream signifies your attempts to save a part of yourself from being destroyed.


It’s amazing what your brain tries to do while you’re sleeping.

(I have no clue why the formatting on this post is so effed up…)


I have so much swirling around in my head.  And it feels like it’s all smoke and mirrors because I can’t “catch” any one thought.  If I can’t catch the thought, I can’t FINISH the thought and then put into action my perceived solution. 

And it’s driving me bat-shit crazy!!!

And because I’m bat-shit crazy, I’m being a passive-aggressive bitch to MY FRIENDS.  Friends that don’t deserve even half the shit I’m doing. 


I just can’t focus.  Can’t pick ONE thing on my list of “Oh shit, now I have THIS to do???”.  Anytime I do start somewhere, I inevitably fall into another member on the list, and my focus shifts there.  It’s perpetual and frustrating. 

I haven’t been formally diagnosed with ADD, so I have no idea if there are meds out there to help me, but the meds I’m currently on (which are keeping my mood swings in check, believe it or not) are already causing me more sleep issues than I’d previously had.  I’m afraid more meds would just exacerbate the problem, and they’ll be sticking me in a rubber room if that happens. 😦

So…that brings me to my never-ending quest to find a starting spot and STICK TO THE FUCKING THING!

I’m a self-starter and hate being told what to do.  HATE IT.  But in this instance I NEED someone to tell me where to start and what to do next.  And I *hate* that I need it.  I am a stubborn “I’ll do it myself” pain-in-the-ass.  Seriously.  Stubborn gets me hurt (more than just physically).  And I hate having to ask for help.  It was hard going to the doctor to ask for help.  I hate taking meds.  Resent that I need them.  But I do need them, I wasn’t able to “fix” myself.  Apparently, there are some chemicals in my brain that are fucked. up.  Damn it >.<

I am one GIANT condradiction.  Which doesn’t help the situation.  I *know* this.  Why can’t I FIX it?!

Kick in the Teeth

I woke up this morning feeling the same as always, tired, but here.  Got ready for work (nightmare of a process that involved going to the basement for clothes…in my underwear).

Anyway, I got to work.  After finishing my email, voicemail, inventory routine, I jumped on the net and checked FB and some blogs.  Nothing unusual.  Typical day.

One of my blogs sent me into a grief-filled tizzy.  I haven’t cried over the loss of my mom in a good long while.  I’ve been able to talk about her (sometimes in the present tense) and not feel that quick stab in the heart.

Until this morning.

That grief kicked me in the face this morning.  It hasn’t even been a year yet, so I know I’m still raw and sensitive, but Jeebus Crisco!  WTF?!

I miss my mom today.  I miss her everyday, but today…I’m just raw.

I hate feeling raw.  Like road rash on my heart.  You feel the burn, feel the pain, but the size of the rash is too big for a bandaid.  Too big for gauze.  You have to leave it open and raw.  And tread carefully.  Hitting that rash could hurt.

Someone just freakin sanded that rash for me.  Not on purpose, she doesn’t even know me.  But the scabs that had started to form have been picked and irritated and in some spots are bleeding.   😦

I know that rash will never completely heal.  I know that scar will be raised and purple for a good long while.  Scars are a part of living.  It will join the ones that are already there and welcome the new ones with hugs and comforting words. 

But today…today I wish my heart was smooth and beautiful.

Ode To A Tattoo

Swirls of colored ink
A Butterfly in hiding
I love my tattoo

Nope, no Grecian Urns here.

I seriously got a tattoo.

No, seriously.  Color and everything.

My mother had given me a ring, quite a few years ago, that I’ve loved (and still do).  It’s totally my mother and me too.

It’s kinda hard to see, but it’s a bit of an abstract butterfly.  Not quite sure what the stuff is above the antennae and below the wings, but I assume it has to do with the construction of the ring.  However, the tattoo artist got creative.

I woke up Saturday Morning and just HAD to go get my tattoo.  I polled some friends to find the best place and was assured Studio 1 was the place to go.  I checked out their website and discovered they didn’t open until 1 pm, so I had just over an hour to kill.  *sigh*  I’m not a very patient person, which is why it was a “wake up and do it” kinda day.

I don’t remember HOW I killed that hour, but I did.  Drove to the studio and waited for nearly another hour.  In that wait tho, I was able to talk to the artist who adapted the design from my ring.  Discussed with him (and then the actual tattoo artist) about coloring.  Yes, I am a HUGE child and like color.  Sue me.

Soon enough, it was time for me to sit in the hot seat.  I wasn’t really nervous.  More a combination of excited and nervous.  Hell, I was so excited for this thing, I went BY MYSELF.  I don’t do crap like that alone!

Greg and I discussed what I wanted and where I wanted it.  I didn’t think I could get it where I *really* wanted it, so I had an odd spot picked out (because, who wants to be normal?).  Turns out, I *could* get it where I wanted it and we slapped the sucker (template) down.

I gave him a picture of how I wanted the coloring done.  Keeping in mind my picture was a watercolor and the tattoo couldn’t perfectly mimic that.

Again, we discussed that this wouldn’t be a perfect blending.  Then we got ta tattooin’!

I thought for sure that I’d jump once the needle hit my skin, but I didn’t.  I can’t watch when I have needles at the doctor and although I was fascinated by this process, I still couldn’t watch it all (I would get lightheaded if I watched, but if I looked around the room and babbled incessantly, I was fine.  Poor Greg.  LOL)

All tolled, it took about 30 minutes to get the tattoo.  It’s beautimous and I love it!  All for me and what I wanted.  It’s mostly in memory of my mom, but it’s totally for me.

What do you think?

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