I wanted to put my face in my hands and just shake my head.

(Sometimes people are so dumb it makes my brain hurt).

Momma and I dropped Greg off at work on Wednesday and wanted to swing by to get us a fountain drink and look at a couple houses. We turned on a side road to cut through to the gas station instead of going down to the stoplight and passed a truck broke down on the side of the road. There was a girl in it, probably around my age, so we stopped and asked her if she needed some help.
She informed us that her grandpa was on his way to tow her truck and that she was just trying to push it into the parking lot up the ways a little so it wouldn't be on the side of the road. She asked if I would help and I said sure. I got out of our car to go to the back of her truck and push it and she fell out of her truck.

And I don't mean she went to step out and lost her footing. I mean she legit- FELL.

I went around the truck to make sure she was ok and that's when I realized that this girl was messed up. And not your "I'm just having a really bad day" kind of messed up, but the "I've consumed too much alcohol and whatever drugs that I'm taking" kind of messed up. And the only thing that kept repeating in my head was when Dyer used to repeat that saying- "She's tore up from the floor up". And I always thought that it was a dumb saying, but now I understand it. It was made for this girl that I was looking at.

I decided to still help her push her truck just a bit and next thing I know, she put that shit in neutral and was standing behind it with me. I asked her- "Who in the hell is steering?" And she answered with something along the lines of- "Bushkujhduqahjbhcebhkwbdujknsj -insert pause- jkhagbdloqjnfjkmfp". So, I asked her when her grandpa was going to be there to get her and the truck and she informed me that she hadn't really called him yet. I asked how he was supposed to know that he was coming to get her then and she didn't have an answer, she just paused for a really long time.

Then two cop cars pulled up behind us. Now, I'm perfectly fine with police officers, I think that there are a few assholes out there (like with all other things in life), but for the most part, I think that they're good people that get the rough end of the stick.

This girl did not share my sentiment.

She turned around and marched to the front of the truck and sat down in it. Which was fairly hilarious considering the fact that she had to hold onto the steering wheel and seat to stay upright. The female officer passed me and went to her and the male officer (who was a massive guy) asked me what was going on. I told him that Momma and I had seen her broke down and stopped to try and help her. He asked- "So, you're not together?" And I said no and he was like- "Got you".

During this the other officer had started asking this girl questions and the first thing out of her mouth was- "I just got out of rehab. I haven't relapsed".

Oh, honey.

She was so dumb at that moment that I actually wanted to take pity on her. I wanted to take her aside and tell her- "Honey, don't you know when you're clearly inebriated on God knows what, you don't say the words rehab or relapse to a police officer? Unless they ask it and your denying, those words should never come up". And I wanted to buy her a cup of coffee. I wanted to do none of this as much as I wanted to smack my forehead and shake my head at her though.

The officer that I had been talking to then looked at me and said- "You can go, thank you for trying to help her, but we've got it from here". I feel like that was code for: "This bitch is going to jail". Which is probably true considering the fact that when we drove back by on our way home, nothing was there. No cops, no cars, no truck and definitely no girl. All Momma and I could do was look at each other and shake our heads.

Bless her heart.

I think you are incorrect about that, Sir.

As most people know, we're looking for a new place to live. While our apartment is alright for the most part, we've had some problems there the last few months (people stealing, throwing their trash everywhere and management being tools) and with Greg deciding to live with us on a more regular basis, we just need a different place.

The hunt has been on for about a month and a half; last Friday we had an appointment to look at a 3BR/1BA in our price range. Aunt Poot and Solae rode with Momma and I, because we were all already hanging out and Greg and his gf came, because they have separation issues that make me want to throw up in my mouth. But I digress.

Uncle Darrell gave me this so I could "handle myself". He said it's appropriate for me, because it's called the "Tennessee Thumper". And yes, that's its real name. Too bad I didn't have it a day sooner.

First, the guy (Landlord-LL) called to push back our appointment by 45 minutes and none of us really thought anything about it, because with it being a Friday evening, people tend to run behind or be all over the place. Then we got there. And oh boy.

Before I tell you about this house let me explain something.

I don't care about cosmetics. Anyone that has seen my car will tell you this. As long as it serves its purpose, it's alright with me. I think that as long as a house is structurally sound, cosmetic work can be easily done as you go. So, this isn't me just "being a dick".

When you walk up to the house the first thing that you notice is that it needs painted. Cosmetic. And then you look to the left side of the house and realize that it has significant water damage. Not so cosmetic. We went into the house, that you have to jump up into, because the step is gone and the smell that hits you is something else. You can literally smell the dry rot. The carpet is gross and if you look to the right, you can notice that the living room window is leaking.

If you're brave enough to go further into the house you can venture into the kitchen that has a hole that runs across the baseboard and is about 7 inches wide, 1 foot long and 6 inches deep. There is no refrigerator or cabinets. The stove? I don't want to talk about the stove. I was trying to be nice, so I looked at the LL, giving him the benefit of the doubt and say- "It looks like you've been doing some work in here" to which he replies- "Yeah, I'm almost done" and before I could stop myself I asked- "Are you sure?"

The LL informed me that there was no A/C, we would have to use window A/C units and it was heated with baseboard heaters. Yay, what I always wanted, baseboard heaters in a house that has water backing into it, because that's not a fire hazard or anything. Then I went to check out the bathroom and it's not just a dirty tub I saw, but the remnants from where the plumbing is clearly backing up into the tub and shows no signs of stopping, unless dealt with. I walked out to check the washer/dryer hook-ups that are in their own little section and sank into the floor. The house sets on a slab. How the hell do you sink into a floor when the house sits on a slab?!!

The bedrooms are questionable and there's something living in the closet of the one that would be deemed "my room". That's great, I always wanted my childhood nightmares to become a reality for me. And there was something on the wall, I'm not sure what it was, but it reminded me of this movie I saw once. It had similar things on the wall and those were entities that ended up eating Ashley Green after it drove her crazy. No thank you.

When all was said and done I asked the LL basic Renter questions. If you could have seen Aunt Poot's face. Wait until you hear his answers.

Me: So, around what do the utilities run? LL: Oh. I don't know.

Me: I see that there are no cabinets in the kitchen, is this something that you're doing on your own? LL: You don't need cabinets.

Me: I know you usually have to provide your own washer/dryer, but will you be supplying a refrigerator, or do I need to buy that as well? LL: Well, you can buy a refrigerator, but when you move you have to leave it in the house.

Me: Are you going to fix the hole in the kitchen wall? LL: No, that will be up to you guys. Me: Oh. So it'll just be taken off of our rent? LL: No. That's just your responsibility.

LL: Also, I'm going to need you to give me $90 for a credit and background check. Me: What if I'm not interested in the house? LL: Well, I still showed it to you.

Me: This carpet? LL: It's brand new! Me: Really?! What in the hell did the old carpet look like?

Me: You know this house has extensive water damage, right? Like, I'm pretty sure if the board of health was called they would quarantine this house and condemn it. LL: And as long as you pay your rent on time, we'll never have to worry about you getting in trouble for that.

Needless to say, he got some strong, opinionated words from me, complete with repeats of- I DON'T THINK THAT MEANS WHAT YOU THINK IT MEANS, SIR!!!!! And we're still looking for a new house to move into. Wish us luck.

When you get that shit confirmed; even if it is six years too late

I got a message the other day from a guy that I used to date. He just wanted to "chat and catch up." That's the only downside to FB. When you block somebody out of your memory, but they still exist and can find you on social media.

Lucky for me though, I was on a roll, and this happened:

You'll understand why I was dancing like Peter Dinklage in just a minute.

Him: You just don't see yourself like I do.

Me: Yeah, I'm nice to me and you're an asshole. We very clearly look at me differently.

Him: If things would have turned out different, we would be a lot different.

Me: Oh yeah? Because I'm pretty sure the only thing that would have turned out different was the fact that I would have buried you under my house.

Him: For real? You're gonna be like that?!

Me: Yes.

Him: You're still a bitch.

Me: Yep. But not one that's trying to relive her past mistakes.

Him: You're a bitch, I hate you.

Me: **erupts into inaudible laughter and blocks his dumbass**

I'm not going to lie, my first reaction when I kept getting to burn him was dancing ridiculously. (Like Peter Dinklage).

And then I quit dancing around. Don't get me wrong, I still wanted to dance around and lord knows I had enough bitchy comments to last a lifetime, but I let it go. Why? Because it's the little moments in life where you realize you were an idiot, but in the end, you won. And, that's worth dancing for.

We haven't talked in a couple weeks and then you drop this on me?!!

There are times that Mo and I will go for weeks without talking. We don't feel the need to talk every single day, otherwise we might get on each others nerves. No, let me take that back, there's no might. We would DEFINITELY get on each others nerves. Which is hilarious, considering the fact that we used to be pretty inseparable. Even then we got annoyed, we just took it out on other people. (Sorry, dude, but somebody totally had to take the brunt of it that wasn't us. You were handy).

Mo and I- circa 2002/2003. (8th grade). Clearly, we were "cool". NOT.

But no matter how much time has passed, we always pick up right where we left off. There's no drama or confusion, at least not our own consisting of our friendship. We're like every other girl, after the important questions are out of the way- (i.e. How's the kids? How's the family? Are you ok? Do I need to make a trip to throttle your cheating, no good, lying ex boyfriend?) we get to the other stuff.

The gossip.

I fill her in on everything that I've learned, she fills me in on everything's she heard and somehow we bring all of that together in one big ole pot and sort through it until we know what's going on. It's a vicious circle, really. Somehow, even living out of state like I do, I tend to find out about the people we grew up with, I assume, because no one loves gossip quite like a small town, and what I don't know, she figures out and fills in.

I don't know why, but we always end up talking about the people we grew up with, were friends with or just randomly know. Mostly we don't remember how we met them. Weird. And we always have a ball while breaking out into the song- Scotty Doesn't Know. We know why that's funny though, we have a friend named Scotty and the poor guy is just always having shit happen to him, mostly without his knowledge.....until much later, that is.

But something has been going on with a former friend of ours the last few months and we just couldn't figure out what. Until now. Together with the bits of information we had separate, we put together the big picture. And it's a doozy.

You see, I've been noticing that our former friends wife has been leaving cryptic messages all over her social media the past couple of months, but had no clue why. Then I noticed that another one of our friends (also a guy) had new pictures up.....not with his wife. And while Mo and I have been trying to figure all of this out, the most logical thing that we could come up with was- Our two guy friends are totally hooking up with each other and they're just not telling, because they're friends with each other too.

Not exactly.

You see, the first guy friend that we suspected of getting a divorce (he totally is) has knocked up the wife of the second guy friend that we suspected of getting a divorce (he totally is too). The clencher? Dude #1's wife knows that he was cheating, but doesn't know with who. Dude #2 knows that his wife was cheating, but doesn't know with who. And also, doesn't yet know that his wife is pregnant.....with Dude #1's kid. And because of this Dude #2 is still hanging out with Dude #1 and Dude #1 doesn't want Dude #2 to know yet so he "can't bring it up in the divorce". Yeah, you heard me right. Not only is Dude #1 sleeping (and knocking up) Dude #2's (who has been his friend for years) wife, but he also wants to keep it a secret to help Dude #2's wife screw him over when they get a divorce.

With friends like that, huh?

And Dude #1 told Mo, but doesn't want her to tell Dude #2 (he made her promise not to tell him before he told her what was happening.....trickery) and even though her and Dude #1 are friends, she's also friends with Dude #2 (and they used to date). And she was going out with Dude #2 the other night and needless to say, she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I asked her if she was going to tell him and she said no, she promised she wouldn't.....but she didn't promise that she wouldn't hint to it and tell his cousin so that he could tell him. Smooth move, Mo.

I agree with her, he deserves to know, and Dude #1 should just fess up and come clean with Dude #2. I mean, you obviously don't care about hurting your "friend" at this point, right? I think that Dude #1 is just scared that Dude #2 will kick his ass (he can). Obviously, Dude #2 is by far a greater friend than Dude #1, right? And also, Mo doesn't want to be in the middle of it, Dude #1 kind of just shoved her in the middle of it and expected her to take his side, even though he's clearly wrong and being a douchebag. Don't worry Mo, I'm on your side.

Also, not gonna lie, I kind of hope Dude #2 somehow finds this and realizes who it's about, that way he knows.

It was going to just be a comment; not so much anymore

Hi. In case you don't know, my name is Katherine, but you can just call me Katie, most people with the exception of a few do. And apparently, I'm an asshole. No argument here, I kind of am. This is me holding a friend of mines little boy a few years ago on his first Christmas. I look extremely viscous, huh? I mean, clearly you can tell that I'm a horrible person from the fact that I'm smiling and carrying him around, right?

Let me start from the beginning-

I was reading one of my favorite bloggers- Miriam (Farm Girl) the other day and she had written a post about what it's like as a woman, when you decide not to have children. She described what it feels like when you tell someone what it's like when you decide not to have children and how society judges you for it. People tend to come down on you and judge you when they know that you don't want children. Even going as far as thinking that you are suspicious.

She says- "People who know a woman doesn't want children think that she is suspicious. Something must be wrong with them. Isn't this what women were made for, being mothers? If a woman doesn't want children, she is labelled as being incredibly selfish. It isn't natural. Also, everybody tells her that she will regret it later in life, no doubt about it."

I have to say that I agree with her on that one, because I make no excuses for when someone inquires whether or not I want children (I don't). They kind of already assume that I do, just for the plain fact, that's what I'm "supposed to want". I mean, who doesn't want to have a family of their own? I'm sorry, I didn't realize that the one I have right now doesn't really count. My bad.

I commented on this particular post of hers, just to show my support to her, because I know what it's like when you tell someone this and they treat you like you're a leper. I just meant to convey my feelings and support, but I'm pretty sure that what I ended up doing was sounding a bit like a lunatic.

My comment:

"I completely agree with you on this one, Miriam. I myself, don't want kids and people seem to not find that ok, or accept it. They ask, and I tell them, I have just never wanted kids, I don't, it's just not for me. And they usually reply with- "Oh, yes you do". No, I'm pretty sure that I don't. This isn't something that I "just decided" one day, it's something that I have put a lot of thought into and a decision I made, not without reservation. For a long time I thought that something was wrong with me, because I didn't want them, but then I realized, there wasn't anything wrong with me, no matter what other people thought, when it really comes down to it, it's my life and decision. To hell with society, there are plenty of things about me that they don't like to go along with that. I'm happy that you made the decision that was best for you. People always tell me- "You'll want kids someday" or "Why not? They're the best! You haven't lived without having kids" and my personal favorite- "You say that now, but just wait until you meet Mr. Right". I just want to look at these people (and I have to admit, I have) and say- Oh, really?! I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I wasn't living by being happy and standing on my own two feet. I'm sorry, I didn't realize that doing all of the things that I love and being surrounded by people that fill my world up with joy, laughter, fun and about a million other emotions weren't enough, I must not really be happy, you obviously know me better than I know myself. And oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know that I needed to wait for "the man of my dreams" to make all of my major life decisions. My bad, I'll get right on that. In other words, I'm happy for you and proud of you, ma'am!! There's nothing wrong with you, society has it wrong if they think there is. You're awesome!!"

And don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those kind of people that thinks everything has to be put into a category or subcategory. I don't necessarily think that everything that is said or done is sexist, racist, feminist or any other "ist" that you can think of. I just don't. I'm not that jaded and I feel like people blow things completely out of proportion on more than one occasion.....a day. I have my own way of thinking and I have a very simple way of looking at things.

I don't care what nationality that you are. I don't care if you're man, woman or identify as another. I don't care what your sexual orientation or preference is. I don't care if you're Catholic, Southern Baptist, Presbyterian, Muslim, Jewish or any other religion that you call your own. It doesn't matter to me. And do you know why? Because it doesn't affect me in the least little bit. You living your life has nothing to do with me living mine. Your decision about which gender you want to spend your life with, what God or Deity that you pray to that brings you comfort or of which race you choose your friend or lover, is none of my concern. As long as you are a good person, as long as you are a kind and giving person, as long as you are a caring person, as long as you are an accepting person, it doesn't matter to me. Basically, as long as you aren't a shitty person, it doesn't matter to me. To me, we're not categorized, we're just people. 

And the only reason that I say- "As a woman, I know how you feel" is because that is also the truth. No matter which way you spin it and no matter which way you look at it and try to make things as equal and opportunistic as you want, there are still going to be those people out there in society that are judging you for your decisions, beliefs and choices. There is just never going to be a time when everyone agrees with what you're doing or how you decide to live your life. And you know what? That's ok too.

If it makes you feel better to judge me or talk about how "horrible and sad or sinful" my life must be, then the more power to you. If you want to put forth the effort that it takes to throw snide comments and sideways glances at me, then you go right ahead. I only say "As a woman, I know how you feel", because I have the choice to carry and give birth to children and people tend to ask a woman more often than a man. Call it sexist if you will, but let's stop playing and pretending that there aren't certain expectations put on a woman. Just as there are for a man. I'm not saying that men aren't asked whether or not they want children and I'm not saying that certain expectations aren't "expected" of a man in society, because there most certainly are. This isn't a "woman on a mission for other women against men" thing. This is a person as a person kind of thing. 

I feel like I am an accepting person. You can ask anyone that knows me. I never take others opinions, I decide for myself. And I am good to all that are good to me, my family, my friends and people that fill the world in general. I just don't know why there isn't more acceptance. You don't like my choices or decisions? Ok, but as long as they aren't affecting you, what does it matter? How is my decision about not wanting children bothering you exactly? The answer, if you happen to be looking for it, is it isn't in any way, except for only in your very own small mind. Isn't it equally as "sexist" to say that I should want children, just because it's biologically hardwired into my DNA as a woman? There are plenty of women that do/don't want children. There are plenty of men that do/don't want children. Quit assuming that you should want something "just because".

I'm not saying that you can't have your own beliefs or opinions, but quit trying to hoard in on mine. Don't be a horrible person (and you know what I mean by that), just be a good person and let people live their own lives. As long as you aren't hurting anybody or doing bad things, you just do what you feel is the right thing for yourself.

And I'm sure that there are people that will read this and have quite a few comments on why I'm wrong about ALL of this and how I should just sit down and hush, because I'm obviously mistaken, crazy, delusional or misinformed. I'd have to be to believe all of this, right? And do you know what I have to say to all of those people that believe that?

As we say in the south- Bless your heart.

F*cking Nicholas Sparks.

I watched the movie- The Longest Ride last night. Momma and I have been trying to watch it since last Friday (Aunt Poot sent it home with Momma and insisted that I watch it), but we were busy and things got in the way, so we decided to give it a go yesterday evening. She ended up crashing out and going to bed before it was over, but I stayed up to watch it. And do you know what I thought about it? It was a really good movie. I'm not one of those mushy, gushy, hyper-sensitive girls, but this one got me. If you've never heard of it, let me let you in on it a little bit.

I posted this one on social media- Friday- with every intention of watching it before Monday. I tagged Dea in it, because I knew she'd love a good (or not so good, in this case) "cheesy" photo.

(SEMI-MAJOR) SPOILER ALERTS:
Basically, I'm going to recap this whole movie.

Luke is a top ranked national bull riding champion, that gets thrown from a bull (Rango) and suffers severe head trauma. A year later, he begins riding in competitions again (again Doctors orders), because he wants to get back to the top and prove to himself and everyone else that he's the best. At that competition he meets Sophia, a college student and art major, who leaves for New York City in two months.

They have their first date where Sophia tells Luke about New York and they agree that their relationship can't go anywhere, but on their way home they run across a car wreck and pull an elderly man (Ira) and a box from his car and rush him to the hospital. Over the next few days Sophia continuously visits Ira, where he begins to tell her the story of him and the love of his life (Ruth), while she reads him all of their letters that are in the box that she had saved.

Luke finds a picture that had fallen out of the box and returns it to Ira at the hospital, where he happily runs into Sophia and Ira tells them more of his and Ruth's story. Luke and Sophia decided to see each other and see where things go. As you can probably guess, they fall in love, some sexy time ensues (who can blame her?), they run into serious heartache and discover how much they love and need each other.

Luke gets hurt (again- and the doctor says he's putting his life in serious jeopardy) and Sophia gives up New York to stay with him. He however, says he's going to continue to ride and they break up. Sophia goes to Ira, devastated and asks him to distract her by telling her more of him and Ruth's story (By the way, just as good, if not better- probably better- story than Luke and Sophia's). He finishes telling her their story, how they loved each other more than anything, how they had hardships (they wanted kids and couldn't have any, because of any injury Ira had sustained in WWII- although they did have a young boy (Daniel) that they cared for for awhile and then was taken away by his guardians, effectively breaking their hearts and causing Ruth to leave, Ira letting her because he just wanted her happiness, and her returning and them knowing they loved each other no matter what), because love isn't perfect, but if it's real, it's worth it and how they had collected all of their art over the years, before growing old together and Ruth passing away, peacefully in her sleep.

 I also wrote this on FB after I finished the movie and of course had to tag my girls- Dea and Betty Lynn.

Sophia and Ira have a love for each other, like a granddaughter and grandfather, and after they talk Sophia goes to school (college). The next day she receives a phone call from a guy telling her that Ira had passed away, she is understandably devastated, but agrees to come to the art auction, as requested by Ira in his will.

Luke makes it to the championship and draws Rango (the bull that he almost died on) from the cup to ride. He stays on for 8 seconds, riding beautifully and winning the championship. As he's standing in the arena looking around after just doing his 8, he looks for Sophia and remembers that she's not there and isn't going to be. He walks out of the arena, handing a young boy his bells, passed all the sponsors that are trying to recruit him and straight to Ira's art auction that he had also gotten an invitation for. He runs inside and the first painting is up, it's a portrait of Ruth by Daniel McDonald (the little boy they had cared for; he had remembered them and had loved Ruth). No one wanted to bid on it, because it wasn't worth any money, so Luke bids on it (the only bid) and wins it for Sophia. He signs off on it, Luke tells Sophia that he's done with riding, the two confess their love for each other and they reconcile, deciding that they love each other and will figure it out, because they're worth it. (Aww).

Then there's commotion in the auction room and the auctioneer reveals that there is a clause in Ira's will that states- "Ruth gave me more happiness than anyone deserves in a lifetime. This portrait isn't worth anything to anyone else, but it was to me and was always my favorite, because it captured her beauty. Whomever buys this, gets the whole collection." Which means Luke is now the proud owner of millions of dollars of artwork. Everyone wants to buy them all from him, but they decide what to do together. Luke opens the "Ira and Ruth Levinson Museum", Sophia runs it and they live on their ranch together. Basically, they live out both of their dreams together, with the memory of Ira helping to guide them. It ends perfectly.

And what do I have to say about this amazing movie that I loved and that touched my heart? F*#% you, Nicholas Sparks. How you gonna play all of us like that? You've been screwing with my emotions ever since Landon and Jamie!! They don't make guys like that and you know it! In all fairness though, I'm not as awesome as any of those girls, so there's that. But I like to keep my emotions and feelings buried deep down in the pit of my stomach.....WHERE THEY BELONG!! And you always bring out the hopeless romantic in me and make me cry. Ass.

P.s. I kid, I really don't have anything against Nicholas Sparks, I like his stories :)

Just call me Gimpy.

This past weekend was eventful. And by eventful, I mean, I didn't sleep that much and we were constantly on the go. It just seems like we didn't sit down for more than a couple of minutes at a time.

Uncle Darrell had The Boogie this past Thursday-Sunday morning (he got home early yesterday morning- also, Ashely and Val went too), so we all decided to get together and do a little something fun.

Friday night we all (Momma, Aunt Poot, Greg, Solae and I) went out to supper. We tried a new place called Jaggers, and it was pretty good. Not gonna lie, I put too much dressing on my salad (chicken ceasar.....YUM!!), but it was pretty delicious. Seeing us all get there had to be up there in the hilarious category though, because it was storming like crazy. 

These are the best pictures that I could get of the sky on our way home. The rest of the day, it was raining too much to get any. I know, I tried.

And nothing says eventful, like a thunderstorm (including thunder, lightning and a plethora of heavy downpour rain) and rush hour traffic combined. This weather lately has reminded me of that good ole Tennessee weather that I'm accustomed to. Perhaps, they're trying to bring pieces of me from my old home to my new. I won't argue, I always slept better during thunderstorms anyways. Besides, I miss Tennessee, so anything that reminds me of it is pretty welcomed in my book.

After we were done eating, we took Greg and Solae to Toy'R'Us and then headed home. Momma and I had to take Greg to work and then we went home, got our showers and headed off to bed. You know, before going to pick Greg up at 4:00 am, taking him to Ashley and Val's (he was house sitting), stopping by McDonalds to grab a little breakfast (Once again, YUM!!) and then heading back home.

We eventually got everything around the house done that we wanted to and headed on over to Aunt Poot's. We had all planned to go to the fair Saturday evening, but we found out that it didn't start until last night. Therefore, they all made the plan to go to Rascal's instead. If you've never heard of Rascal's and have no clue what it is, don't feel bad, I didn't either.

But just so you know, it's a place where kids (and adults) go to ride go-karts, play mini golf, play games and eat crap. It's pretty cool. I let Greg and Solae talk me into doing everything with them and on our next to last race Greg hit me and one other girl causing her to crash full speed into me, head on. Don't worry, we were both ok, and I had already kicked his ass all day (and after that), but I've been extremely sore ever since. Whoever says that you can't get hurt while on those things, I have one thing to say to you. LIARS.

On our way to Rascal's we stopped at a gas station and "met" the Blues Brothers. It was pretty damn cool. 

P.s. We all had a lot of fun. I just wish Momma and I had gotten to get into the photobooth. Hopefully, next time!!

Yesterday, we headed over to see Uncle Darrell (he was extremely tired) and Momma and I took Greg to get his haircut, and we had to pick up a few things at Walmart, Solae road with us. After we dropped them back off, we headed home to rest and next thing you know, we were getting a phone call inviting us down to Josh and Sherry's for her youngest sons (impromptu) 16th birthday party. So, we went, because we didn't want to hurt any feelings. And we got home, Greg took a shower, we took him to work, got home, Momma took her shower and I bandaged her foot. Then I took my shower and I went to bed about an hour after her, we went and got Greg at 4 am this morning.

It was a real fun weekend, but I'm extremely tired and sore. I'm not sleeping good, I assume because I can't get comfortable from being so sore.

(Aunt Poot sent the movie- The Longest Ride home with Momma Friday afternoon so we could watch it. She knows about my huge crush on Clint Eastwood and it stars his son. We still haven't watched that damn thing yet. We plan to though!! Eventually.)

Also, I've been watching the show- Burn Notice. You know, to deal with my insane love for Bruce Campbell and I just finished Season One before going to bed last night. What can I say? I like it.

Wish us luck.

Momma has the appointment with her vascular surgeon today to see what has to be done about her foot. It's been two weeks since she went to him the first time and we've followed his treatment regimen as closely as possible. I clean, apply medicine and wrap her toe/foot twice a day and she finished all of her antibiotics. Now, we wait and see.

Her toe looks better to me, but I am no Doctor, so I couldn't tell you what it should look like and be doing by now. I know a little bit about this sort of thing, but not even close to enough to diagnose and let my opinion be the one that we go with. I do however hope that we've done well enough to merit the reward of being told that it's getting better, slowly, but surely.

I'm leaving work around 8:15 - 8:20 this morning to go to her appointment with her. And while I'll be coming back after it's over, I really wanted to go and I'm happy that Dani is going to let me slip out for a couple of hours, so that I can be there.

Momma is nervous and that's perfectly understandable. It's her toe/health that's on this here line. I keep trying to reassure her and tell her that everything is going to be ok. No matter what happens, we'll get through this and do it together. Greg is quite possibly the least helpful when it comes to boosting someones morale, considering he keeps tell Momma that they're going to have to cut off her entire leg. Thanks, Greg. Thanks. I told her that's not an option, they don't just go around cutting off peoples legs, unless there is no other alternative and that it's just her pinky toe, her leg is fine. So, in a few hours we will know the next step. Wish us luck.

Update:

Ok, so I just got back from the Doctor with Momma (and Aunt Poot). The good news is there's no infection and it seems to be healing well. That's so good to hear!! We went to her Vascular Surgeon and he says the pressure, circulation and all of that is great in her foot and to her toe.

However, he said that he's not a foot doctor (Podiatrist), so he is sending her to one that he feels would be great and they can monitor this together. The options are: They can let the toe keep healing on its own to see if it will rejuvenate itself, but it will take longer to heal and with that comes the risk of complications. The other option is to remove a piece of the toe and close it up, that eliminates most of the risk of infection.

Luckily, he says that the toe is not going to effect the rest of her foot, so that's not a concern. (Sweet!) He told us these options, but also said that he's sending her to an actual Podiatrist, because since everything is so good with the toe, they might decide that they want to go with the course of action that just let's the toe heal with the time it needs. Either way though, she has to have her foot monitored because of the- charcot foot.

And that's all we know for now. We don't know what the next step is going to be, but like all things, we'll take it together.

He's coming home.

Back in early December I talked about an old friend of mine that I had grown up with. I wondered how he had been doing and decided to send him a message, just because I was worried and curious. We talked for a bit and caught up, you know, like old friends do. And that was that. We haven't really talked a lot since.

You see, Berry is in the Army. And we're all so proud of him and think that he's beyond amazing. You have to be a certain kind of person to defend your Country and want to protect those you love, and we're all in agreeance that he's that kind of person. He always has been. He joined the military as soon as we graduated High School and has been traveling the world and defending our Country ever since.

Berry and I- circa 2003/2004 (Freshman year). When we still used disposable cameras. Damn, we're old.

He's put the rest of his life on hold. If you have ever known him you know that he's always been one of those types of people that completely dedicates themselves to something when they commit to it. I know this, because we became friends in junior high over the fact that he played football with my brother. Don't get me wrong, we had other reasons that we were friends, but that's how it all started. And he was beyond dedicated to football. Hello, Quarterback. That's right, he was the Quarterback. He was dedicated to it and excelled, because that's just who he is.

He's also been a great friend to have over the years. You won't meet one of us that grew up and were friends with him that have anything, except wonderful things to say about him. He was there to listen and give advice. He would let you cry or make you laugh until you couldn't take it anymore. He's just pretty much awesome all the way around.

He shared this to his FB page and tagged myself and a few other people in it.

He's been in the Army for the last seven years and has done multiple tours. He's put everything else on hold to do what he believed was right. But now, it's almost time for him to come home. And everyone that knows and loves him couldn't be any more happier if we all tried. We've worried about his safety, thought about his well-being and wanted nothing more for him than his very own happiness.

So, break out the fine china, chill the lemonade, tie a yellow ribbon around that ole oak tree, because this guy is coming home!!

It's 11:32 pm.

I wish that I had something amazing or insightful to share with y'all. But I don't. Basically, it's 11:32 pm, I just got out of the shower, and now I'm sitting here alone in my dining room with a towel wrapped around my wet head, drinking cranberry/grape juice.

I know, glamorous.

I have a million thoughts running through my head at warped speed (Insert Star Wars pun here), but I can't seem to get my mind to quit racing long enough to actually formulate anything of substance. Frankly, it's terribly inconvenient for me.

I guess I could always just make a confession and then go to bed. Yeah, that's what I'll do, I'll make a confession and then go to bed. So, here goes nothing.

I, Katie, have a serious crush on- Bruce Campbell.

Duh, Duh, Duh.....

This is my Boomstick!!!

I've watched The Evil Dead and Army of Darkness so many times that if you turn it on, I could probably recite it word for word. And it's not one of those, I used to think he was cute when he was younger kind of things. Nope, I still find him completely attractive.

No regrets.

And now, I'm going to bed, because the thought of seeing Greg and his girlfriend make out (They're in our living room), makes me want to vomit in my mouth. And we just don't want that. So, Goodnight All!!

(P.s. I'm really sorry about this piece of crap that I have just written, but I'm seriously tired and can't sleep. This seems to help me with that problem, so I continue).

The women in my family like alcohol.

As everyone knows, this past weekend was Independence Day. And while not everybody knows, some people that read along with my life (Sorry I'm not more interesting) know that I had a three day weekend last week. (Friday, Saturday and Sunday). It was very busy and not at all busy at the same time. I know that makes absolutely no sense. You're probably thinking- "No hussie, it either was or wasn't busy". But let me explain.

It was busy, we were constantly doing something, but we didn't feel rushed and we just had fun with it. We made a crap ton of food and by the time Josh's cookout rolled around, there was enough food for us and the neighbors. And to go along with all of this food, there was alcohol.

Now, don't take this a bad way, but we have some pretty substantial alcoholics in our family and a few borderline. Give us a case, we'll give you a hug.....after we drink the case. We should put that motto on our family crest. We should also get a family crest. Minor detail.

Before we began cooking and the whole family got there, Sherry cracked open a bottle of wine. It was delicious. And then another bottle. And then she made Josh go down the road to the liquor store and buy more. 4.5 bottles between Sherry, Momma, Aunt Poot and I later we were feeling pretty good. Momma only had a couple sips of her glass before Poot finished it off quick, fast and in a hurry. Momma doesn't really drink, because of her medicine. And Aunt Poot usually doesn't drink, but she was feeling it pretty good and drank her fair share that day.

Then Shantel, Uncle Robbie and Aunt Winnie showed up and we commenced to opening the bottle of Crown (to make Water Moccasins). And then we ran out of that bottle and Shantel got another. We went through half of that and Poot and I called it in. Her, because she surpassed being drunk long ago and me, because I didn't want to be "that" drunk. And you know what I mean when I say be "that" drunk.

Before we went down to the lot for fireworks, Momma, Poot and I ran home to let the Tayderbug out to potty and somehow got shanghai'd into taking Zeus with us. While I was taking Tayder out, Zeus jumped onto Poot's stomach and she had to swallow her own puke. We're very ladylike in this family.

Then we all went down to the lot for fireworks. We were just all talking and having a good time, watching the festivities. Remember when I said that we all stopped drinking long ago? Shantel did not follow our lead. She proceeded to get that ridiculous kind of drunk, fight with her friend and start screaming and crying like someone was making her watch Old Yeller. Fun times. We all just ignored her and went about our merry way. We're not mean, we just don't like to deal with that crap.

All in all, we all had a great time and it was a fun three day weekend. But it's not about a three day weekend. It's about celebrating our Independence as a Nation. So, not just on Independence Day, not just on Veterans Day, or Memorial Day, but every single day- Thank a Soldier. It's because of them that we get to do the things we do and live the way that we live. With freedom.  

Six years.

For the past six years I have thought about the exact same thing on July 4th and this one is no different. I wake up every morning and the same thing runs its course through my mind. It's not the usual patriotic things filled with American pride and fireworks (while those do come into play later in my thoughts). Instead the first thought that always passes through my brain is my dear friend- Amy.

As most people know, Amy was taken from her family and friends long before we all had ever imagined she would be. I guess when you're growing up and you're surrounded by your friends, you just assume that everything is going to be fine. You know that some of you are going to grow up and fulfill goals that they have had for years, some will realize what they want most out of life is a family and children, some turn out to be the exact opposite of what anyone expected and others will simply live their lives and not put too much thought or pressure on it.

But I don't think anyone thinks that one of their friends is going to pass away. Especially, at such a young age. And you don't think of multiple friends of yours being gone. You think that they might move away, or that you might not be as close as you once were, but in the back of your head you always have that little thought that you can always stop by or at the very least, call. It's kind of like a safety net. You might not need it, but it's there.

Until it isn't anymore.

July 4, 2009: I had pulled a double the night before, so I had turned my phone on silent and attempted to get some sleep. I had only been in bed a couple of hours when Momma came in my room and woke me up. She set down on my bed and told me- "Sissy, there's something I have to tell you." I immediately set up, because I knew whatever it was she was about to tell me was bad. I don't know exactly how, but there was something about her tone that just told me. And then she said- "Amy was in an accident this morning, she passed away before they could get her to the hospital. I'm so sorry."

My immediate reaction was "No she didn't, I just seen her the other day, she's fine." And then because I was sure it was a sick joke that someone had just told Momma, I grabbed my phone and flipped it open to call Amy. And what I seen instead was 63 missed calls and 87 text messages. All of them confirming the exact thing that I didn't want to believe.

You know, when you find something like that out there's a moment. And while the moment doesn't last real long, it's there. And in this moment you start to recap everything throughout your life with this person. And it just runs through your head really quickly, almost like a slideshow, but impossibly fast. You think of moments that were, song lyrics that remind you, the last words that were spoken and everything in between. You remember things that were long forgotten and then it's done. It just stops and you're left sitting there asking- Why?

No one really knows why these things happen and often times they never figure it out. In this case, I know that Amy was killed in a car accident. I know that her boyfriend swerved to miss a deer. I know that they had just dropped their little boy off at his grandmas. I know that it was on an ole country road. And I know that there was nothing the paramedics could do by the time that they arrived on the scene and she was pronounced dead at the hospital. I know that they played Taylor Swift at her funeral while we all cried and couldn't believe that we were saying goodbye to our friend. And the last thing that I know is that we laid her to rest in her pale pink casket with a headstone in the shape of a heart and a picture of her and her baby boy on July 8, 2009. All of these things are facts.

But I don't know the answers. The answers to the questions that we all had. Why didn't she get to see her little boy grow up? She didn't even get to see his first birthday. She was such a good mother and she would have continued to be. Why did she have to pass away so young? She had only been nineteen for a couple months. We had only been out of high school for a year. She had so many things to accomplish.

I'm not saying that Amy was perfect. Lord knows that she had flaws, but we all do. She had done some things that she wasn't proud of, but she was learning to overcome the decisions of her past to better her future. And she loved that little boy more than words could ever say. Man, did she love that kid. There was nothing that she wouldn't do for him and I know that she would be the proudest little cheerleader that anyone has ever seen throughout his life. She was a mom, sister, daughter, girlfriend, cheerleader and one hell of a friend. I miss her. We all do. And we all think of her today, like every other day. She may be gone, but she is definitely not forgotten.