Walk, walk, walking down memory lane.

February 8, 2009 at 11:41 pm (Uncategorized)

Instead of posting about the drama and confusion that is my life, I decided I will share my other rat story. (I told you I had more than one!)

So, Im a city girl. Grew up in San Diego, lived here all my life, except for my brief time testing out the south…and the country. I. do. not. like. the. country. Keep that in mind.

So, Im living in the south, and I meet a man. He was perfect blah blah blah (totally not gonna go into all THOSE details)…I move in with him. He lives in the country. Like, the kind of country where he lives on 15+ acres, complete with a small freaking lake in his yard…the town has a ‘volunteer’ fire department, a gas station and a tiny little corner store…if you want McDonalds, you are outta luck- hop in the car and take a road trip- kind of town. But it was ‘soooo cuuuuuute!’ I think to myself.

Until I was home alone one day.

All I know is, I hear animals. Like, surrounding me. Under the house, in the house, all over. I think they were having an animal circus. I cant leave, because if I get to the front porch, there are wild turkeys waiting for me! Not to mention the deer…and whatever else lives in the fricken boonies. This country thing was a bad idea.

I call him…”babe, I can hear something under the house. Its freaking me out.” He replies “dont be such a baby. its part of living in the country” <— yeah, he is as much help as my mother was in my recent animal fiasco.

So, he comes home that night, we’re sitting at the dinner table minding our own…when all of a sudden he looks at me and says “BABY. Dont. turn. around.” I look at my one year old who is sitting in his high chair, looking behind me, and WHIMPERING in fear. “Umm, what the hell is it?!” I ask. (I seriously think its either a thief, or a bear. I cant decide which)…He says “its nothing. Just keep eating, Ill be right back” as he gets up and LEAPS through the kitchen.

I still dont turn around.

I hear him go to the bedroom at the end of the house and slam the door. “THUD. THUD. THUD. CRASH. THUD. BOOOOM. THUD.”

I still dont know whats going on. Im just sitting there staring at the wall, trying not to move (in case he left me alone in the kitchen with a bear- you’re supposed to play dead, you know?) and trying to keep my child from having a heart attack. Then I hear the door open…

And there he is. The man I am planning to marry in 6 weeks…holding a dead rat (the size of a small dog, I might add) in his hand, by the tail, and screams “BABY! I GOT THIS MOTHER FUCKER’ as he is panting and practically foaming from the fricken mouth.

Really? Reeeeaaaaalllly?! I couldnt decide which was getting to me more, the fact that he just killed a rat in my BEDROOM (he told me later, by beating it on the floor, swinging it by the tail, and by beating it with his flashlight), or the fact that I actually cooked that night, which doesnt happen, and then none of us could eat.

All I know is that that just cemented my view on living in the country. I do not like living in the country.

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I’m baaaack!

February 2, 2009 at 6:54 am (Uncategorized)

I started a blog and then disappeared. Who does that? I do that. Sorry.

Lets see whats new…

One of our turtles died today (actually yesterday. I just figured it was sleeping. Its not.) So, we now have three. I’m one of those people who really thinks I want a pet, and then get it and realize I just liked the *idea* of a pet, and not actually having one…So thats why I dont have a dog or something. At least I dont have to take turtles on walks. But, I obviously am not very good at keeping things alive. Im lucky my children can speak (or one of them can, anyway).

Breakdance and Slowpoke are wearing me out. Normally, they are the sweetest most absolutely adorable children. And Im not even just saying that cause they are mine. They really ARE. But lately- not so much. Slowpoke puked all over me today right before naptime. All over my shirt, pants, shoes, his clothes, the floor, everywhere. And then he was fine. Like nothing ever happened. He then decided to somehow fall/climb out of his crib. HOW can this kid- who wont even WALK- climb out of a crib?! Ugh. So I go in his room because I hear him a liiiiiittle to close to the door, open the door and there is an entire box of cheerios poured all over the bedroom floor. I mean, all over. Like, if he moves you hear ‘crunch, crunch, crunch’. Why were the cheerios in his room you ask? Good question. I’d like to know that too. Apparently Breakdance is a food hoarder and Slowpoke just found the stash.

We followed that up with Breakdance insisting on blowing bubbles. Great. Blow all the bubbles you want, kid. Entertain yourself for a second while I clean up these other messes, right? No. Not right. The bubbles got dumped. In the carpet. How do you get bubbles up out of the carpet? They just…bubble up. If anyone knows the secret, please, fill me in.

School is kicking my ass.

I played beer pong last night for the first time ever. For anyone that knows me, you know I dont drink. A) Im not old enough B) people arent cute when they are drunk and C) when I drink (the few times that I have) I puke or pass out. Well, last night I was in such a ‘fuck it’ mood that I played beer pong with some military guys at my girl friends house. For one thing, I kicked their ASSES (I played 5 games and won 5 games. Take that mother fuckers), and for another thing, I didnt even get slightly tipsy. I dont know how that happened, but it did. I did have such a raging headache afterwards that I wanted to stab my eyeballs out with toothpicks…but did I get the fun, drunk, I cant walk straight feeling? No. What a bummer.

For anyone on CBBC following the drama that is my boyfriend, we are working on it. I know my friends think he doesnt deserve me and isnt worth my time, and Im sure his friends think I am a crazy bitch…but when it comes down to it, I love his crazy ass. I dont know HOW he got me to care about him, because like I said in my previous post, I can be a cold hearted bitch. Really. I can shut my feelings off in an instant. Just like magic. But not with him.

But next time he fucks up (if there is a next time) hes out. I just hope there isnt a next time. I’ve made my feelings clear. If hes smart, and he wants this to work, he knows what to do.

Still no wax.

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