Wednesday, November 26, 2014

I have many things to be thankful for {A sappy (early) Thanksgiving post}.

What's there not to be happy about today? I mean, I get off at 11:00 today. I have the next four days off. Aunt Poot and Solae are coming over tonight for movie night (Expendables 3...whoop whoop!!). Momma is feeling pretty good. Aunt Susi is happier. Jayna is at work today helping to put up the tree. Me and Dani match in our Griswold shirts (by accident). Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Greg is happy. John is up here now. I've decided to watch Outlander on Demand (all eight episodes) while I'm off. And I'm losing weight. The world is good. My world that is.

Two year old me would like to wish you happy holidays!! Clearly, we know who the cute one was. My brother and cousins claim they were, but I mean, come on. Look at little ole me.

Things could be better I suppose. I reckon they always could. People always seem to talk about the things that could be better. However, I'm a drink the glass that way you don't have to decide if it's a glass half empty/half full kind of gal. I try to always find the silver lining and be optimistic. Noodle likes to tell me that I'm the ultimate eternal optimistic/hopeless romantic. I'm not really sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but we got that kind of love. I'll take it.

I have so much to be thankful for. So much. I'm in fairly decent health. It teeter totters back and forth between things sometimes, but for the most part things tend to go good. At least it's nothing I can't deal with as far as now. My Momma. The fact is that she's in poor health, but you know what? She's getting help for it. And it's getting better by the day. She will never be healed, however I'm hopeful that with time we can get her to that level. You know what 'that' level is. Tayder is still kicking and lugging around. Poor guy is grumpy, but he's the Walter Matthaeu of dogs, so I'm ok with it.

I like that he's still here to give me cuddles and kisses when I need them. I spend time with a few of my favorite people in the world- i.e. Momma, Aunt Susi, Uncle Roger, Aunt Poot, Uncle Darrell, Aunt Mary, Dani, Solae, Greg when he doesn't have a giant stick up his butt. And so on and so forth. I love spending so much time with Momma. And I love spending time with those I am close to. Work is good. Our apartment is good. Family is good, except for the buttheads, but you know.

I could complain. I really could. But why? So much has happened. There was so much bad in me that I didn't know what to do. I didn't know where to turn. I got to the point that I didn't want to do my favorite things. I didn't want to talk to my friends. Anybody really. I didn't want to read or watch tv. I didn't want to leave the house. I didn't even want to get out of bed or get dressed. I didn't really want anything. I went through the motions and that was it. I didn't know what else to do. I just laid there and stared at the walls. I cried without knowing why. I sat there without paying attention to the things around me. My life was going without me really in it. It's been like this for years. Since I was around fifteen, I guess. And then I started making changes. Big changes. And it helped. Don't get me wrong, there are days that I still have these feelings. Everyday I have at least a few of these feelings and don't really understand why. I've never known why. But you know what? Here it is. And here I am. I'm surrounded by people that love me, and even though I don't want to burden them with my problems, I know that if I needed them they are there. And that's nice. And for that my friends, I am thankful.

Happy (early) Thanksgiving.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Because, obviously, we were awesome.

Enough said? This is me and a few of my friends in junior high. But the cool junior high. You know, eighth grade, so we were almost freshmen. In our minds other words, complete badasses. That's me sitting on the floor covering my face. As you can tell, I've always had a bit of Miranda Kerr in me. Not even close. We probably even wear the same size in clothes. Liar. Traveling down those old white and red hallways sure does bring back some memories. 

Like the ones of all of the homecoming days, where we got to have field days and run around crazy. The ones of my friends and I passing notes and homemade fortune tellers back and forth to each other in our classes. The one where a boy told me he loved me, kissed me, then ran away. Or the one where I watched my friend Rachel (the one right next to me) slam some girls head into my locker repeatedly. Yeah, there's that.

By the look of my Beetlejuice shirt, you can clearly tell that we were much cooler by the time we reached high school. No we weren't. We could even talk our guy friends into wearing our clothes. Well, at least our jackets. This happened on more than one occasion. Also, most of us had nicknames by this point. Not me, because they all still call me Katherine, but this guy is known as Poncho. His girlfriend? Lucy. No, that's not her real name, that's just her nickname. Yeah, I don't get it either, but they're married and have a baby now, so maybe it was she was Lucky Lucy? I don't know.

We were so cool. We even threw up our hands in class, like- What up?!! That's not true, that never happened. The 'What Up' part, not the throwing hands up part. That part definitely happened. Also, boys carried our purses, because they were already wearing our jackets, so why not? He's going to kill me if he ever sees this. Hashtag worth it.

Sometimes we posed with guys and even though it was their idea in the first place, they look terribly uncomfortable in the actual photo. But maybe that's because the girl in the photo that wasn't you totally made out with said guy the summer before and then he started blushing every time that he was around her. Also, you had to poke and tease the same guy until he finally opened up and talked to you, so you became friends, because he was so shy. And then your best friend reads the blog post that you write that tells about her making out with the guy and she immediately screams and regrets sending you the old photos in the first place. Oops.

Then when you grow up the same boy joins the Army and when he comes home he's even more beautiful than what you remember him being. And then you get drunk with him and the two of you pass out in his truck. Like adults.

Finally, you look at the old pictures of y'all and you realize that you needed to pull down your shirt back in the day. That is until you realize that that's not even your shirt that you're wearing in the photo. It was actually the shirt of a girl that y'all hung out with that weighed about 90 pounds and you remember when you were skinny. And then you snap back into reality when your best friend reminds you of how photogenic you were when y'all were young. Because she's a hater.

Ah, friendship.

Friday, November 7, 2014

Is it acceptable to wear sweatpants to a wedding in November?

Today is Friday, and if you've been around me for any amount of time at all this week you would know that this fact makes me incredibly happy. Happier than usual. Except for the fact that Momma and I have to make 20 pounds of potato salad tonight. You heard me right, 20 pounds of potato salad. Don't ask. Anyways, I thought that I would just stop in for a second to say that:

A) We are having this huge rat infestation problem living in our ceiling at work. And while I'm not particularly scared of mice or rats, not knowing how many are up there that could fall on top of my head at any given moment kind of freaks me out. Just slightly. Thankfully the exterminator (Dani) has a giant bag of poison and traps treats for the little guys that she makes Chad distribute to them and collect. We're determined to win this battle.

And- B) My cousin Ashley is getting married tomorrow. So, instead of lounging about in my sweatpants watching Gilmore Girls (which I would really love to do), I have to look like I actually give a damn and go into public, fully dressed, and do things. I would prefer to just hibernate, but you know, family obligation and such. So, wish me luck! At least there's cake. And alcohol.

Cheers, bitches!!