Monday, November 30, 2015

On the last day of November.

(Because I couldn't think of a different title).


I can't believe that it's already that time of year to send out Christmas cards. And yes, I am very "old schooled" like that and feel the need to send out Christmas cards. I just think that it's a little something nice to do to let people know that you are in fact thinking about them (even the ones that you might not like that much). I only send cards to those I love the most (plus one or two, because I feel obligated now).

I'm trying to feel very optimistic for this coming year. Afterall, I'm not getting any younger (here comes 26..... oh, 25..... we barely knew one another.....) and I've always been a fairly optimistic person in the first place. Even when things are completely horrible, I try to find a silver lining. It's both a curse and enlightening.

But, not to jump too far ahead of myself (I've had a bit too much sugar for this early in the day- you think that my body would just be used to it by now). We're one day away from December 2015 and I'm just now having to wear my heavy coat outside (I leave for work at 6:00 am- it's real cold then!). Not to mention that I'm in a good mood today. I don't have a reason for it, I just am. I'm both happy and suspicious of it..... it happens that way alot for me.

What can we expect in December? Who in the hell knows. I myself am no psychic and I kind of like "flying by the seat of my pants" or however that saying goes. But I think we should all make a list of "maybes" that might happen in December (and follow into the new year).

  • Maybe: you'll finally put up that pesky Christmas tree that they've been bugging you about (but you'll probably be drunk for it, because that's the only way to decorate)
  • Maybe: you'll look that guy up on social media, because you think he may no longer be a psycho (he's probably still a psycho, but- YOLO)
  • Maybe: you'll finally lose that extra pesky 45-60 pounds that you've just been keeping out of pure laziness (or maybe you'll decide to keep them for warmth and your inherent laziness- whatevs, they're not that bad)
  • Maybe: you'll finally wear something besides sweats on the weekends (most definitely not, because you love them and they understand you, why mess with a great thing?)
  • Maybe: you'll get your Christmas cards sent out on time, so they are delivered before Valentines Day (but then again, you always start out with the best of intentions)

See how I kid? I really just wanted an excuse to write something today, anything really. I could write about a million things, but honestly, none of them really stood out to me like I wanted them to. There were things to write about in my personal life (nothing juicy, so don't be too sad) and we all know that there are many things happening out in the world to talk about (but I do not want to get into the battle of politics, religious views, vaccination protocols, etc.), I just didn't know where to start, so I started from the place that I always start-

RAMBLING. 
Here's hoping I make it through the rest of this Monday.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

I can hear my inner "Damaris Phillips" calling.

(And she's really freaking hungry).


I won't be spending Thanksgiving with Solae (she has to go with her mom and step-mom to her stepmom's family dinner). Since I won't be seeing her then, I wanted to see her now. Can you believe she's eleven (she'll be twelve in a couple weeks) and already like a foot taller than me? AT ELEVEN. Did I mention that I won't be spending the holiday with her?! BOO.

THANKSGIVING IS TOMORROW.

Remember when I told you about "Operation: Thanksgiving 2015" a couple of days ago? I was talking about what our plans are and that basically consisted of us getting together to eat an unhealthy amount of food? And then I listed out the things that Momma and I were responsible for cooking (you'll be happy to know that I remembered the fifth item was corn..... and by "remembered" I mean I had to call Aunt Poot for the third time and ask).

Well, Momma had a appointment with her podiatrist yesterday evening (by the way, her toe is all healed, say for a scab, and she doesn't have to go back until February!!) and while her, I and Aunt Poot were talking the subject of Thanksgiving came up (I know, shocking). I asked Poot if she was going to make sweet potatoes and she informed me no, that she loved them (we're the only two in our group that do), but she doesn't know how to cook them.

Therefore, I have decided to reach down deep into my southern roots (I.e. use a shit ton of butter) and make her some homemade sweet potato casserole with a brown sugar/ pecan topping. It's an old recipe of mine (I'm lying, I googled it and I'm going to adjust it to my own taste) and I'm really hoping that she'll like it (as in, it doesn't end up tasting like manure).

It calls for:
  • 3 cups cooked mashed sweet potatoes (who are we kidding? I'll use canned)
  • 2 eggs
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 3/4 cup softened butter
  • 1/2 cup milk
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla
For the topping:
  • 1/2 cup brown sugar
  • 1/3 cup flour
  • 2 tablespoons softened butter (2- ha!!)
  • 1/2 cup chopped expensive ass nuts pecans
And the directions sound really simple to:
  • Put the mashed sweet potatoes (that I totally got out of the can) in a large bowl.
  • Beat eggs, sugar, and 3/4 cup butter- Add milk and vanilla (blend well)
  • Combine the egg and butter mixture with the mashed (canned) sweet potatoes and pour into a greased (yay!! More butter!!) 2-quart casserole (I'll use whatever I have on hand, because I know I don't have a casserole dish).
  • Combine brown sugar, flour, 2 tablespoons (I reiterate- ha!!) softened butter and pecans- mix until crumbly and sprinkle over sweet potatoes.
  • Bake at 350° for 45 minutes.

And after you do all of that you will supposedly have a sweet potato casserole so delicious that you'll want to eat the entire thing (plus the hands of anyone who dares touch your scrumptious plateful). I'm really hoping that it works out that way, because if it does I'm gonna be all- "Oh yeah, I just totally thought it up all by myself and threw everything together. No biggy." But if it's disgusting, I'm going to say- "I can't believe I spent twelve hours making this and the recipe was wrong, I should've known not to google anything." Which will be a lie either way, but I mean really, get over it.

Momma and I will go to the grocery store after I get off of work today to pick it all up. (Chris is letting me off of work today at 12:30- it's Chris, because Uncle Roger is out today and Danielle had a dentist's appointment and Chris is in charge- I ain't mad about it). I should probably pick up alcohol to. Not because anything I'm cooking calls for it. The only thing that calls for it is the chef- aka me.

Happy Holidays from me and mine!!!!! I hope you all are surrounded with love and warmth!!!!!
(Only I would put "scab" and "casserole" in the same post). 

Monday, November 23, 2015

Operation: Thanksgiving 2015.

(I'm very into calling everything that is planned or I'm going to be doing- "Operation").


You know, like I'm all stealthy and militarian. That's a made up word, as I'm sure you can tell. Also, I'm pretty sure that you're not allowed to talk about your "Operations" when you're legit in the military, so I would be breaking all of the rules. Actually, I'm more than pretty sure, I'm almost 100% sure. If you're wondering, this is my way of telling all military personnel (active or retired) that I am beyond thankful for them and all that they do. From the bottom of my heart- THANK YOU. Thank you, veterans and active service men/women, for everything that you have done and continue to do!!
 
Ok, enough with the heavy. I just wanted to say that I am 100% thankful for them. Thanksgiving (2015) is a couple of days away and the planning has been in motion for quite some time now. And by "planning" I mean we go down to Aunt Poot and Uncle Darrell's every Thanksgiving (and Christmas and Easter and Independence Day and all the other holidays, but NOT THE POINT) to hang out and eat with them. They started inviting us down a few years ago and now it's just to the point to where we all know we're getting together for the holidays. That's the way we like it.

I'm not big on holidays. I haven't ever really been, but I do enjoy when Momma and I get to spend them with Uncle Darrell and Aunt Poot. There's no fussing, fighting, drama or unwanted boo-hooing. There's just family, laughing and food. Which coincidentally, happens to be one of mine and Uncle Darrell's favorite parts. He and I have been planning our Thanksgiving menus since August (no, I'm not kidding- we started coming up with them while drinking). We don't like to leave things to chance (only with food and alcohol, everywhere else in life we're very "YOLO").

However, even though he and I have been planning what we wanted to have since August, we never actually put forth any other plans. Such as, you know, who was going to cook what. Basically, past the part of what food we wanted to eat together at his house, we had nothing. It took the real functioning adults (Hi Momma and Aunt Poot) to actually get things nailed down. They made me compile a list (I say made me, but really they made it all up and I just wrote it for them). Here's what Momma and I are responsible for:

  • noodles (Reamen's w/broth- yum)
  • mac-n-cheese (always our "bring to")
  • rolls (I got the brown 'n serve ones- ain't nobody trying to pull a "Pioneer Woman" around here)
  • deviled eggs (that's all Momma, I would screw them up)
  • and something else, but I forget what, which I'm sure is insanely helpful (maybe mashed potatoes?)

Doesn't sound like too much, right? I'll probably get up and make it all on Thanksgiving morning (except for the deviled eggs, like I said- Momma), or I might make the noodles the night before. I don't know yet, I assume it all depends on Wednesdays mood. Speaking of Wednesdays mood, come Wednesday at 3:30 pm (hopefully sooner- please love us and let us leave way early Uncle Roger), I'm off of work until.....

6:30 Monday morning. That's right, four days off. FOUR DAYS. To be more precise:

  4  days  15  hours  55  minutes 

(Hopefully sooner- come on, be a sport!). <<<<< Not gonna happen. Aside from that, most people make a list of things that they're thankful for. I did it once as an "Instagram Challenge" and rightfully treated it as a playful thing more than a "deep/meaningful" type of thing. Mostly, because I'm an insensitive/sarcastic asshole, but also, because I try to let things that I'm thankful for be known in my everyday life. I don't want to just do it one day or one time of year. I want it to show through in my everyday life.

So, to that I say- the countdown to Thanksgiving is upon us. (2 days 9 hours 5 minutes- if anyone's keeping track). Be thankful not just on that day, but every single day. That's the way that it should be. Remember the people that don't get to spend this holiday (along with countless others) with their loved ones, and keep them in your thoughts and prayers (I.e. Don't be an asshole).

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

My arch nemesis.

(Just because I forgot for a minute doesn't make it less true).


Momma and I were talking yesterday evening on our way home and I remembered something pretty hilarious. I mean, it wasn't hilarious then (yes it was, I was just very mad), but it is thinking back on it now. It all started when Momma mentioned- "It's been so long since I've seen your hair as long as it is, how long has it been?" And of course I was all- "How am I supposed to remember? I can't even remember what I did Tuesday" She said- "It is Tuesday" And I was like- "SEE?!"

But I digress.

Because after we got home and I was cleaning our living room, I remembered. I remembered when the last time my hair was this long. I immediately ran to her and exclaimed- "I remember!!" She was way less enthused than I was (it usually happens like this), but decided to pacify me by asking- "Ok, when?"

Here's my recollection of events:

When I was in third grade there was a boy in my class, that shall remain nameless (but YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, SIR), that was in every way my arch nemesis. Quit laughing, it's true. He was the Joker to my Batman, the Kripke to my Cooper, the Sobriety to my Courtney Love, you get the point. The boy was PURE EVIL. Everyone thought that we were always bickering back and forth, because we had a crush on each other (the whole "boys pick on you when they like you" thing- dumb), but that was entirely untrue. We bickered all of the time, because he was a buttface. And yes, that is what third grade me told him. That he was a buttface. Because I know how to throw a real zinger when it comes to insults (wait until I watched That 70s Show a few years later and first heard the insult- dilhole, and after that made up the phrase- douche canoe).

The point is, that boy was always tormenting me. ALWAYS. I let it go forever, but eventually got fed up with it and one day when he was playing with my pigtails (I always wore pigtails) I turned around and yanked/twisted his ear until he screamed like a girl. Things only went from there, because the next day he cut off one of my pigtails. Yes, just one. ONE PIGTAIL. I had to carry my detached pigtail home, with a note from my teacher for Momma, to tell her that I hadn't done it myself. Of course I hadn't done it myself, I already had feathered bangs and a lisp, how much more ridiculous did I need to look?!

That was the last time my hair was that long, because Momma in turn had to cut the rest of my hair to match and my hair went from almost to my waist to up past my shoulders. I was sad.

BUT not as sad as I was angry. Even though Momma raised me very much to be "don't start fights" "don't provoke" "just walk away" all I could hear when she was talking about "being the bigger person" while cutting my hair was- "blah, blah, blah". Obviously because I was in the middle of plotting my revenge. I didn't want to be the bigger person that time, once again I had had enough. I went to school the next day (with my very short hair) and as soon as I got to my classroom he started laughing and pointing and being mean (I know, you're shocked at this point). I sat down in my desk and tried to ignore him..... for awhile. And then he pulled my hair and the fight was on. And not just that day, but every single day after that. He continued to pick and I continued to fight back.

Eventually our teacher separated us (she had sat us next to each other thinking it was a crush- it wasn't) after he bit me on my leg and then punched me in the eye and I stabbed him in the hand with a pair of scissors and kicked him in the throat (obviously, I kicked his ass and won that fight). Now that I think back on it, I have a hard time believing that they didn't kick us both out of school, but that was before the whole "No Tolerance" policy (damn, I'm glad they've put that in schools).

We learned to deal with each other over the years and as we grew up (and he admitted in junior high that he did have a crush on me), but to this day (almost twenty years later) I am still convinced that he was and is- my arch nemesis.

Friday, November 13, 2015

Because I'm mature like that.

(Except really not at all).


Remember my good ole buddy- B. Davis? Of course you do, she's the one that has more issues in her love life than Buffalo Bill. Not in the same context, but you get my idea. Well, she has had yet another mishap when it comes to her current "flame." Oh, the things that happen when the crackling flames burn down to embers. Sorry, I'm in a serious metaphorical mood right now, I'll try to restrain myself.

BLINDED BY THE LIGHT.....

Again, I apologize. So, back to BD. Remember when her and I had that long talk about unicorns and I said that the current guy she was seeing might surpass her unicorn? I should've known better than to say that, afterall, unicorns are mythical and mysterious for a reason. And the reason is the fact that they can't be surpassed (at least for this analogy).

Her Dilemma (with my sarcastic comments included):

She needed some "real talk" and she knows that if she needs someone to be a borderline asshole honest then she can always count on me. She said "I'm having some issues with this whole (insert the guy's name here) thing. After the initial it's over we didn't talk for weeks. He finally messaged me and we spent a few hours talking and of course there was sex (because when isn't there sex when you're attracted to someone who blew you off a few weeks ago- sarcasm?). Then he messaged me the next day and the day after that and then it just stops. We talked on Halloween (maybe the day after- she couldn't fully remember) and I always initiate the conversation, and then nothing until last night (sounds like a booty call to me). I made the choice to factory reset my phone and it erased all of those messages from him along with the pictures (side note: couldn't you have just manually deleted all of that without resetting your entire phone?). I felt a little relief, then I got the message from him. It's like he knows when I'm to the point of giving up (I feel like only a Jedi would know that, and he is definitely no Jedi). So, we talk and he ends up coming over (first mistake was talking, second was him coming over), but strangely I don't regret any of the times and it's like my rational thoughts turn off until hours later (you're an emotional female, you only have two stages and neither is rational nor logical- you only have 1. panic induced spasms that include you repeating "why doesn't he like me?!" while drinking alcohol and 2. smack talk about his tiny penis..... yes, even if it's not tiny)."

My Follow-up (with a minor defense):

"So, what do you want me to help you with? Because the way I look at it, if you're ok just sleeping with him and not having a relationship (yes, some people do that and it's entirely ok and healthy), then quit over thinking everything else. If you're not ok with just sex and casual conversation, quit right now- cold turkey like a heroin addict."

Her Rebuttal (once again, including my sarcastic comments):  

"I don't know if I'm ok with it or not. It's the lack of communication/conversation that I think I'm not ok with. We don't talk much at all. Weeks go by and not one word (sounds like a dream of mine). It bothers me that he spent so much time telling me it wasn't just sex (of course he did..... so you would in turn have sex with him). He said it over and over and over (again, so you would in turn have sex with him). And now..... it clearly is and I just don't know where my head is."

My Defense (with clear reasoning):

"Unfortunately, as a woman, you can't go from here without confronting your feelings (clearly, you haven't built up the tolerance of ignoring your feelings like I have) and seeing if you're ok with it or not (you're not). My own personal experience, and take this with a grain of salt, because we both know how much I drink (it helps with the whole "not confronting my feelings" thing), I'm going to go ahead and say that you're not ok with it, because you already have feelings invested (because hormones)."

Her Second Argument (do I even need to tell you I'm sarcastic at this point?):

"I know I should just cut my losses and call it a day, but it's like when he texts or something, all rational thoughts (we've talk about this, you don't have any) and brain activity shuts off. I go deaf and dumb to any kind of coherent thoughts until after he's gone and come down from my 'high' and then I'm like- dammit!! (we've all been there)"

My Solution (with complete maturity- I had drank a bit by this point):

"Tell him that. Let him think he's coming over for booty and then be like- NO. No booty for you, sir!! Because you're an asshole."

Her Final Stand and Hope (you know what's coming):

"And that's what I was trying to do..... with resetting my phone. And then boom he texts. Maybe....."

My Closing Argument (so much alcohol involved at this point):

"Then you're going to have to take the mature approach to this whole situation. Secretly egg his car, block all of his numbers/social media and avoid him like he was the Black Plague and your life depended on it. I'm talking bob and weave, hiding behind people at the grocery store, maybe even relocating to a new state."

Needless to say, my maturity is being called into question and she's still nowhere near a solution.

Thursday, November 12, 2015

The Hurt Locker.

(I.e- the most intense movie ever made in the history of ever).


I just watched this movie over the past couple of nights (don't ask, it's been a long week). I'm aware that it's been out since 2009, it was nominated for nine Academy Awards, won six Oscars and is pretty much world renowned at this point and time. I've been meaning to watch it, truly I have, but its just kind of slipped my mind. But in the last two weeks I've really wanted to see it (I learned that one of the soldiers is played by Brian Geraghty and he's one of my favorites), and when we went to Aunt Mary's fish fry she told me that I could borrow her copy (along with Flags of our Fathers and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo- and yes, I'm aware that those movies have been out for like five or ten years, but it's a process, dammit ).

I jumped on board with it (like I said- Brian Geraghty) and decided out of the three I borrowed- The Hurt Locker was going to be the first one that I watched. This particular movie is really intense. Like, really, really intense. So, intense. I'm not even kidding about how intense it is. Here, this should give you a little insight, the movie starts out with this quote-

"The rush of battle is a potent and often lethal addiction, for war is a drug."

See what I mean? Intense. I assumed that it would be a bit intense just because of the context going in (bomb specialist soldiers in an Iraqi war zone- each one of those are intense on their own, let alone combined), but I just didn't think it would be as intense as what it was. Maybe I was being naive, in fact I'm sure I was, but I still like to believe in the good guys. And while I still feel like all of our American Soldiers are the good guys and I respect them tremendously, it's strange to see them in this setting. Their setting. And while I know it's only a movie, in a way, it's also not. Real people do these kinds of things everyday, putting their lives on the line for what they believe in and yet, no amount of "thank you's" or "I love you's" or "I'm grateful for you's" will ever be enough.

Synopsis:

American war film about a three-man (Sergeant First Class William James- Jeremy Renner, Sergeant J.T. Sanborn- Anthony Mackie and Specialist Owen Eldridge- Brian Geraghty) Explosive Ordinance Disposal (bomb disposal) team during the Iraq War.

That's all of the synopsis that you get, because that's all that you need. Watch it.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Fish frys and yoga mats.

(Coincidentally, this picture has nothing to do with either of those things).


{{Before I begin, let me tell you what a guy at work said to me first thing (like 6:30 am) this morning when I got to the office. Doug: "Katie, I have a poltergeist in my office and I'm scared." Me: "A poltergeist?" Doug: "Yes, a poltergeist. Can you come check it out for me?" Me: "What good am I if your office has a poltergeist?!" Doug: "In the movie it was a girl that defeated them. And you're wearing boots." Me: "That girl was like four, had blonde hair and got sucked into a tv. Also, I don't know what my boots have to do with this, but ok, I'm kinda curious now." So, I went into his office and sure enough on the computer screen in the corner of the office (all of the guys use that one for prints) it was blinking on and off really fast and Doug and I had to discuss how to kill a poltergeist. Luckily for us, I've watched Dean and Sam Winchester do it before.}}  

Friday (November 6): Of course, I was at the office my usual hours (6:30-3:30) and when I got off, Momma, Greg and I had some errands to run. Momma and I had to swing by to make a payment on some things, Greg had to run to Wal-Mart to pick up some meninine (I totally just made that word up) needs and he ended up picking us up sandwiches for supper. When we got home, Ashley dropped Solae off (Ashley and her wife were going out of town for their 1st anniversary- until Sunday) and she stayed with us until Sunday after the fish fry. 

Saturday (November 7): Momma and I rode down to Aunt T and Uncle Clyde's with Aunt Poot. We went to see them over the summer and have been meaning to go back down (they live in Seymour, IN- about an hour or so South of us), but this past weekend was the first chance that we had gotten. In pure Aunt T fashion she had already made us lunch and had brownies and lemonade waiting for when we got there. Traffic was ridiculous (why they feel the need to merge a four lane highway into a one lane all at once is beyond me), but it was completely worth it. We all talked, met a woman that I guess is my Grammy's sister (I had no clue she existed, I thought Grammy only had brothers), and Uncle Clyde showed me some of his gun/knife collection and invited Poot and I to "Friendship" with him in the Spring (it's a giant re-enactment/camping thing). While I probably won't stay the night down there (I don't like leaving Momma overnight and camping isn't really my thing anymore), it was nice of him to offer and Poot and I will probably go spend the day down there with him. The trip home was much more smooth.

Sunday (November 8): First off, Uncle Darrell brought our new washer over first thing in the morning and hooked it all up (our washer decided to blow up sometime at the beginning/middle of last week- we had a guy come to "fix" it and he did absolutely nothing, but charge $70, and that's not me being dramatic). Needless to say he's (Uncle Darrell- not the "repair" guy) as awesome as always. Aunt Mary had her annual fish fry and it was a pretty good turn out (Momma, Greg and I rode with Poot, Uncle Darrell, Solae and Sammy out there- Sammy is their grandson/my little cousin). We made this broccoli/cheddar pasta salad stuff and everybody that ate it said it was really good (I didn't try it myself, I tried enough noodles while I was cooking it). We all laughed, talked and cut up, it was nice. Of course, you always have to have that one person to be an asshole to someone for no reason at all (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE), but other than that, it was good. Before we left, Aunt Mary told me that I could borrow some movies and then she gave me a yoga mat, because I had been talking about maybe trying to take up yoga (I have to get a book or DVD or something- I'm hoping it will help my back) and she was all- "I TOTALLY HAVE A YOGA MAT THAT YOU CAN HAVE! HERE!! TAKE IT!!!" She always tries to be really helpful to people over any and everything.

Also, Saturday was the first time that I had brushed my hair in a week and decided to take a picture to commemorate it.

Friday, November 6, 2015

Call me the crazy cat lady.

(And if you're wondering, the other half of this picture had a dog in it).


When most people think of a "crazy cat lady" their mind immediately goes to some old lady with her gray hair in a bun, glasses pulled down on her face and she's the proud owner of about thirteen cats whom are her only company.

I have a dog. (And he's the absolute best).

But don't count me out as a "crazy cat lady" just yet. You see, not only do people think of "little gray haired ladies" as the "crazy cat ladies", but it's also used to describe single gals. I.e. Me.

It's a running joke, but I'm pretty sure that it's one of those jokes that people repeat all in good humor, but there's also a lot of merit behind it. The saying goes- "I'm single forever, I might as well go adopt a bunch of cats".



For one, if that's your mentality then I assume you think you suck, so if no one else wants to spend time with you, why would you make a poor/defenseless animal do it against its will? Rude.

Secondly, think a little bit more of yourself. Chances are you're a great lady that just hasn't found your compatible counter part. Why should that be considered a bad thing? Personally, I've been single for around three years (taboo for a 25 year old woman) and I couldn't be happier.

Are there times that I think it would be nice to have a significant other to cuddle with and share my thoughts and feelings?

Eh, I'm not really good with the whole "sharing" thing. Can I offer you a sarcastic comment instead? Those I have.

I just don't feel like you have to have a significant other in your life to define and fully appreciate yourself. I guess, I just don't require that kind of validation. Don't get me wrong, we all like attention and to feel "wanted" on occasion, but I like to do things when, how and with whom I want. I like having the "freedom" of it all.

A random cat showed up at our house over the past weekend. It appears to be a house cat that someone has randomly dropped off (P.s. whomever you guys are that did that- you're assholes). Everybody immediately took to it, but it seems to only want affection and/or attention from me.

I couldn't figure out why. I don't "hate" cats or anything, but I've always been a consistent dog kind of gal. Probably because dogs are more cuddly and I'm allergic to cats. But this cat has been on it when it comes to capturing my attention. It has even gone so far as to climb atop our handrails to peer into our house.

My brothers girlfriend decided to make the wise crack to me- "It probably wants all of your attention, because it can see your future. You're going to be a crazy cat lady!! (Insert laughter from her here)".

First things first, shut up.

Second, if you think that I'm going to be insulted by what you just implied, you are mistaken. I hear women in my everyday life, whether it be in person, social media, radio, or somewhere else on the internet complaining about their significant others. (And no, it's not just females complaining, but males to. I don't think that "all men are assholes" and it's "us" against "them" or something. No. Because we all know that there are plenty of females that suck to).

And since I like being single and all that it implies (I've never wanted to be married or have kids, nothing against those who do, it's just not for me), I don't find it offensive at all. In fact, I think of it this way:

Either I can have a significant other who's an asshole (and no, I'm not saying that everyone is, I'm not that jaded, but obviously if you know anything about my track record you know that I seem to have a type..... And that type always seems to land on asshole) and make myself unhappy.

Or, I can adopt a random cat, keep living for myself instead of others and let people think what they will about it (along with all of the other decisions in my life that they feel they should have an opinion on). I think I'm going to take the cat. I'll just keep feeding it dog food and giving it bowls of milk to drink. Crazy cat lady?

Bring it.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

If only Norman Reedus would bring me a salad.

(And teach me how to shoot a crossbow).


I've had the worst craving for a chicken salad the last few days. Not like a chicken salad sandwich, but an actual salad with chicken on it. I had one last week for lunch and ever since I finished that one I've wanted another one. Just call me a little piggy.

In my defense, the salads that I get/make/eat are beyond delicious. You see, most people eat salads for the health factors (i.e. weight loss, vitamins, etc), but I eat salads strictly for the taste value. So, while everybody is over there munching on plain ole broccoli with kale and vinegar, I can have a great salad complete with cheese, fried chicken strips (although I do like grilled strips too), dried pepper flakes and creamy dressing (no vinegar and oil for me, I want ranch or french!!). Maybe I can talk Momma into picking up dinner out tomorrow night. Salad with chicken..... or Tex-Mex. You know, which ever comes first.

Also, I really wanted to use that picture at the beginning of a post. I have other things to say. I swear I do, but the only thing that I can think of at this present time is- FOOD. Just all of the food. Give me all of it. I want breakfast, lunch, dinner and lots of snacks. I can't seem to satisfy my appetite lately. It's like I want something, but then I want fifteen other things.

Maybe I'm a vampire or something. You know, not fully turned yet, but starving due to "the hunger". Ok, that's it, I have got to quit watching the Syfy channel. I'm over here trying to blame me being hungry on 30 Days of Night (great movie by the way- Hello Josh Hartnett- I've always had a somewhat unhealthy love for him).

I know that that's not really why I'm hungry, and once I eat I'm perfectly fine. I don't want you to think that I feel the need to eat 24/7, that's not it. It's just the fact that I had to skip breakfast this morning (running late for work) and it's not quite time for lunch yet. So you know, there's that. I made some delicious chicken strips for supper last night and probably could've eaten all of them, but didn't, because I didn't want to cook more of them. Maybe I'll cook some more of them tonight for supper. Again.

I'll quit talking about this now.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

It's probably global warming.

(Or something along those lines).


The weather has been completely ridiculous the last few months. The temperature has been everywhere from 37 degrees to 98 degrees. And no, that is not me being dramatic, that is me being factual. Winter stuck around a little extra this past year (i.e. April), so Summer had a late start. I assume that's how weather works, I really have no idea though.

But the last few months have completely thrown every one of us for a loop. When September rolled around we all started to prepare ourselves for Autumn weather. Afterall, it had dropped down to the 40s and 50s, so why wouldn't we? Psych!! It reached 47 in the middle of September and then immediately shot back up to 92.

September is known to be a fickle little minx, so we didn't really put too much thought into it. Then October rolled around and people started breaking out their sweatpants (joke is on you guys, I always wear sweatpants- because comfort!!) and scarves to once again prepare themselves for Autumn. I was wary of this, because our house doesn't have A/C and I knew it was staying way to warm in there for the whole "winter is coming" moment. Guess who was right? Me.

The weather literally dropped to the 30s-40s for four days and then shot back up to the 80s. It really can't decide what it wants to do. My relationship with this weather is literally like all of the romantic relationships from my past. It's indecisive, makes you angry and basically it's just a giant pain in the ass, because it's not what you want.

Don't get me wrong, I am in no way wanting it to get cold. I'm ok with Autumn weather, but I am no longer a fan of Winter weather. It's cold and wet and woefully unpleasant. I worry about Momma, I have to scrape windows and I fall enough in my everyday life, let alone when you cover everything in ice. Not to mention the pain. Don't ask.

However, if it wanted to be Autumn weather until it decided to be Summer again, that would be perfectly fine with me. But instead, here it is- November 4th and it's 73 degrees outside, but this weekend is supposed to be in the high 40s-low 50s. I don't even know what in the hell is happening.

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

WHY SO SERIOUS?!!! I hugged the Joker on Halloween.

(Not Heath Ledger, Jack Nicholson or Jared Leto, but the other one).


This past Saturday was Halloween and as per Momma and I's tradition (the last few years) we headed on over to Aunt Poot and Uncle Darrell's to get drunk eat supper and pass out candy. We started going to their house for holidays a few years back, because it's typically only the four of us. Greg does whatever it is that he does and their kids do God only knows what. So, a few years back Uncle Darrell decided that we should all get together for holidays and it's stuck ever since. Which we're good with.

Halloween. It's my favorite holiday by far and I think we should celebrate it at least four times a year. And that's the minimum. You see, I'm one of those creepy people that is a horror fan through and through all year round, not just for the month of October. I enjoy dressing up, I adore horror films and let's face it- candy for every meal? Yes, please. As I've gotten older I've realized that I can combine all of those with alcohol and I've never looked back. Celebrating Halloween (horror movies, candy, alcohol, candy, costumes, decorations, candy) is like seeing my little dreams come true.

{{Side note: Also, for years upon years now I've wanted to be Mia Wallace for Halloween, but haven't found my Vincent Vega in a significant other yet. The John to my Uma you might say. One day though, one day.}}

Saturday Momma and I kind of hung out at the house and just chilled. Aunt Poot and Solae had come down earlier that morning and visited, and then we cleaned our house and did odd and end things. And by odd and end things I mean she did her computer thing and Tayder and I curled up in the chair to watch Halloween Wars. We headed down to Aunt Poot's between 4:30-5:00. Trick-or-Treating wasn't supposed to start until 6:00, but tell that to sugar hungry five year olds. Heathens.

I took over the "candy hander outer" (no, we don't have a better name for it) duties and Uncle Darrell made us girls (mainly Momma, Aunt Poot and myself) hot apple cider..... with Hot Damn in it. What?! It was full of deliciousness. Aunt Poot got tipsy, I was feeling good, but Momma was lit up. (And it was damn hilarious).

{{Side note #2: I didn't realize that my grown ass cousin Ashley was so scared of Freddy Kreuger. I mean, don't get me wrong when I was a kid he scared the crap out of me. When the remake came out in 2010 I figured I was a grown ass woman and would be fine, so I went to see it in the theater on a date and then spent the next two weeks not sleeping. So I get it, he creeps me the hell out to. However, she ran from a seven year old dressed as Freddy Kreuger and hid behind Uncle Darrell. Dude, she could've took him.}} 

We passed out candy and hung out for hours (plus, had "mummy dogs") and eventually we headed home (the next day I helped Uncle Darrell take down their Halloween decorations and then took ours down too). And now I'm sad that October and all of the Halloween goodness is over. But we had a blast this time around!! No worries, I will continue my creepiness and horror film fanaticism (along with my questionable wardrobe choices) for this next year and many years to come (i.e. all of them).