Creeping into Terminator territory.

I love the Terminator movies (yes, I love them all, but we all know T2 is the best one in existence). There's just something about them that makes you go, "oh.... maybe we should be aware of machines and their capabilities.... are we really safe with AI?!"

But most of the time you watch one and after a few hours or even the rest of the day (or night, depending on when you like to watch movies, I don't judge) you let those thoughts fall by the wayside. It makes sense.

Afterall, technology is everywhere in our lives and advancing every single day. In fact, I had the idea for this post and started it on my Iphone.... and finished it on a computer. I love old-fashioned ways (i.e. letter writing, visiting, etc.), but to say that technology hasn't made life easier and more convenient would be a lie.

But when is technology too much? Well.... I say it's too much when you literally can't function at anything all day simply because your technology has a "glitch."

Think about it.... how does your day go and how much do you really "accomplish" if your internet crashes?

Granted, these days we have to have some form of technology, whether it be for work or personal (I know that Netflix doesn't seem like a "must" but trust me, in my life it is), but I think maybe people are taking it a little bit too far.

Like, I realize that everybody seems to have cellphones these days (myself included), but do you really need a function on it to talk to, because you're too damn lazy to just look something up (Siri)? And yes, that kind of thing is handy for someone who has a form of disability and needs assistance.... but everybody does not need to be able to look at their phone and say shit like, "hey Siri, how many noodles can a dude fit into his nose before he suffocates and dies?" (And yes, I heard that exact thing at the grocery store between a man and his phone in the spaghetti aisle last week).

Do we really need for our things to talk to each other from ACROSS THE ROOM even though one of them ISN'T EVEN TURNED ON at the time? Is this really where we want to take it? Technology is so far advanced that it surpassed us a long time ago. In fact, it's so advanced that I don't know if we could ever even catch up.

Did we learn NOTHING from John Connor?! Afterall in the first movie he said, "The machines rose from the ashes of the nuclear fire. Their war to exterminate mankind had raged on for decades. But the final battle will not be fought in the future. It would be fought in our present.... tonight." I mean, I know y'all think I'm crazy and that my paranoia and conspiracy theories are leaking over into Randy Quaid territory, BUT is it really so crazy to think that our technology that is so far advanced already would be able to "think for itself" and decide that mankind was a threat unto itself? I know it sounds crazy, but I don't think it's that far fetched.

Let's just all hope that there are some John Connor's and Kyle Reese's walking around out there. And that I'm 100% crazy.... which let's be honest, isn't that far fetched considering that this will probably be posted tomorrow, but I'm writing it tonight and I've had ALOT of wine. You can thank my family and their Christmas gifts to me for that. Speaking of which.... I totally need to watch Terminator: Salvation tomorrow night. I love that damn movie (because Anton Yelchin, Sam Worthington, and Christian Bale make fabulous movies separated let alone together).

What was my point again?!

Christmas 2017: a company party, a three-day weekend, and lots of wine.

Remember on Friday when I was contemplating running away to join the circus? Well, you'll be happy (or incredibly sad) to know that I didn't join the circus, but it's still an option that I'm keeping open.

Friday was our annual Company Christmas Party and they decided to do it a little differently this year. Usually we have the party in our warehouse (we rent heaters and tables), but this year they (and by "they" I mean UR and Dani) decided to have it elsewhere.... so we rented the back room of a brewery in downtown Indy.

There were some other changes made too, but mostly we're sticking with location and food on this one.

I would like to go on the record of saying that usually we freeze our asses off at these parties. Yes, we rent heaters, but it's the end of December in Indiana, heaters or not.... WAREHOUSES ARE F*CKING COLD. And then we usually end up ordering and picking up wings, pizza, etc. There's a whole lot of setup and teardown involved and it usually ends up being alot of trouble.

But this year the only thing we had to do was rent the room, choose the food, buy the drink tickets and show up. (And we did minimal raffles like usual). Aside from the little snafu of them not realizing that our party was scheduled from noon to three (they had us down from three to six), it went smoothly. And no worries, they quickly set things in motion for our original party time.

We all proceeded to drink, talk, laugh, play darts, and find Where's Waldo? It lasted for a couple of hours and once everybody was ready to get out of there.... we just left. Because we didn't have to clean or put away ANYTHING. We just left. Which is probably my favorite part of it all (aside from getting lost on my way home.... don't ask).

And yes, my family had a nice Christmas. We went down to Aunt Poot's and Uncle D's for Christmas dinner (that we eat between noon and one) and exchanged a couple of presents and Momma and I came home. It was a three day weekend (with another one on the horizon!) and it was mostly just me, Momma, and Tayder chillin' at the house and getting alot accomplished in the way of settling in. That was my favorite part.... the "chilling" part. It was a good weekend. A cold one (it's about eleven degrees outside this morning), but a good one. (I forgot to take pictures of Christmas itself).

Merry Christmas and all that jazz that most people say at this time of year.

The horrifying moment when you're looking for an adult.

And then you realize that you're technically an adult.... but you don't feel like playing today, so you want to invoke the "I'm an adult, I can stay in bed and watch tv and eat junk and not get dressed all day, BECAUSE I'M AN ADULT THAT'S WHY" clause in your contract. Speaking of which, does anyone have a copy of this "being an adult" contract?

Lately work has been.... stressful.

Yeah, we'll go with stressful. And it's the kind of stressful that feels never-ending and you're pretty sure that if you crawled into the fetal position and drank your weight in cheap wine that you would feel better. (Plus, it probably doesn't help that we're all sick and feel like death either?)

I'm sure everybody has these moments. And I'm not saying that I don't like my job or that it's terrible or anything, but lately it's just a tid-bit.... overwhelming.

And I'm not the only one feeling like this by any means.

Literally every single person here is on edge and none of us seem to be dealing with it all too well. I would love to be one of those people that are all, "it's the stress of the holiday season.... once the holidays pass everything will calm down and go back to normal."

But.... this isn't a "holiday" thing. It's a "we're all on edge and our heads are gonna spin off at any given moment" kind of thing. None of us know who is going to snap first.... but we have a betting pool that is really anybody's game at this point.

This morning was no different (nor is the entire day for that matter), so to alleviate a little bit of stress and hopefully push us a little bit backwards from the edge, Danielle's husband Chris started a NERF war.... that she and I promptly won (then Tony came up, because he thought the ceiling was coming down from all of our running) and we all had a little talk and laughed a bit.

And that lasted about ten minutes. Now? We're back on the precipice. Send good vibes.... and liquor.... our way.

I wore elf ears upside down and pretended to be Spock.

A few years ago a couple of my aunts (and maybe Momma?) decided to start having our annual get together. The women in my family used to do it once every year around Christmas time, but back then they called it the "Sister Thing." 

It was called that, because out of Momma and her siblings, there are ten of them (if you count the oldest/craziest one that I've only met like twice in my life) with seven of them beings sisters. It's not called the "Sister Thing" anymore (because we're not all sisters and they thought it was weird.... even though more than just the "sisters" have always come), but they instead made the group name "The Girls."

And I know this, because Danielle was forced to make a FB group so that we could all "keep up" and post pictures, and communicate.... and we all use it about once a year.

When it first started they decided they wanted it to be once every couple of months, maybe meeting up for lunch sometimes and at a house another.... and that lasted about half of the first year. Then it went to twice a year for a couple of years (or maybe just one year?), and now it's at once a year. We all say that we're going to have lunch together or something like that and then the next thing we know a year has gone by.

Because we have no follow through and we're tired.

With the "once a year" way, we usually meet up at one of my aunts house and have lunch/snacks, do a "Dirty Santa" and maybe exchange holiday cookies, ornaments, and treats.... and sometimes participate in a craft.

There are always people that don't come (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND IT'S YOUR LOSS, BECAUSE WE'RE DAMN HILARIOUS), but we usually have a good time, some laughs, and it lasts a couple of hours. And then we go about our merry way and say shit like, "we're gonna have to do this more often" and we don't not do it, because we don't like each other (even though some of us like more people than others), but because once again that whole follow through thing.

This year we met up at Aunt Susi's (it's usually at her house.... always has been), and ate, did the "Dirty Santa" thing (and I'm still not 100% sure that we all know how that game works), and talked for a couple of hours. We didn't do a craft this year, but Dani made her stuffed mushrooms so I think we can all agree to chalk that up to a win.

Here's to next time.... probably.

The amount of pride was overwhelming.... and I may have teared up.

As most people know, this past July things were drastically changed in our lives. While I didn't go into in depth detail, the fact that everything was going to be different moving forward was a given.

There were alot of sleepless nights and anxiety attacks (if I'm being perfectly honest, there still are), but I've always known that my mother was a strong lady. She's shown me her strength my entire life. The fact that she's dealt with my brother for thirty-one years is just a testament to that (because my brother has always been a terror).

These past six months have been hard. And at times.... overwhelming.

From her being sick, to her surgery and readjusting to a different life, to moving in with her sister for two months and then moving into a new home, things have just been.... "on edge" putting.

But no matter what, we have continued to love, and hope, and learn.... and just be there.

And days like today make all of the other stuff fall to the wayside and truly put into perspective the amazing things that you have in your life.

Today.... Momma took the first steps that she's taken in over five months. She doesn't have her prosthetic yet, they're still fitting it and making sure that it's all correct, but they used a "sample" prosthetic to get the dimensions right and he let her walk.

(And yes, I totally took the day off of work to go with her, because I 100% didn't want to miss this moment).

She did amazing and her doctor/prosthetist is so incredible and nice (and brave, because he and his wife have five little girls all under the age of nine!). She was excited and for a minute I thought she was going to try to take off running! I may or may not have teared up a little watching her take those steps.... and I may have taken like fourteen videos of the three minute ordeal, but I assume this is what an enormous amount of pride feels like. And to say that I have pride in her is not even the beginning of it.

It's going to be a long road ahead, as it has been this whole time, but like I always say, we got this.

Moving: a tale of the girl who's LAN cable & curling iron got thrown away.

I've been talking about this whole moving process for around two (two and a half?) months now. Well, Saturday was the big day. Uncle D woke me up at what felt like the unGodliest hour imaginable, but what was really 7:45 am. We all got up, got ready (against our will.... I guess that's what Aunt Poot and I get for drinking two bottles of wine while watching MacGyver and Hawaii Five-0 the night before?), and headed out.

Momma and Poot stayed at the new house (that has wood floors and I never knew how much wood floors made everything echo, but I still love them.... I might actually get to hear in my own house now, because everything is amplified!) to wait for the cable (really internet, but whatever) guy and hang curtains and such and Uncle D, Greg and I headed over to our big storage unit to start moving our stuff.

Oh, and we have a couch now.

My cousin, J, was helping us and said that he would meet us over at the storage unit (we had two, one big one and one small and now we only have one condensed one which I'm good with, because we don't have a lot of storage space at the new house.... yet!), so we waited for him outside the gate. We figured that with Uncle D's truck and trailer and my cousins truck that it would take us about three trips/loads to get everything.... and that's when he pulled up in a 24 foot box truck.

Where did he get it? Well.... he got it from our work. (Did I mention we work at the same place? If not, we do.) My other uncle that runs the place said that we could use it to make the move easier and to say that it made me extremely happy wouldn't even be the half of it! We got it all in one load.... except for about four big pieces of furniture that we wanted moved to our other unit, because we don't have a place for it right now. You have never seen anyone be as happy as I was that even though no matter what moving sucks, but it was easier this time around. And hopefully, I'll never have to move again.

Now we have a million things to unpack and organize, we have to figure out what we want to keep and what we want to get rid of (we got rid of Grammy's chair.... we didn't want to, but it's kind of old and it's been in and out of storage for years and we would never have gotten that smell out of it), and you wouldn't believe the amounts of laundry that we have. We may or may not take it to the laundromat so we can whack it out in one fell swoop.... or I may just start laundry this evening and not stop until it's done. It really just all depends. It would be easier to go to the laundromat, but I kind of just don't want to leave our house since we're in it now. *insert laughter but also seriousness here*

The house is very nice and it's great having our own place again.... so just wish us luck for all of our future endeavors. And a little luck on this whole finding effort to actually unpack and organize everything wouldn't hurt either.

It's a process.... it's always a process. A throw myself off a cliff process.

I've been talking about this whole us moving thing for awhile now. I've talked about why we were moving out of the house we had been living for two years, and all of the problems there.

I've mentioned how much I hate moving and at one point Momma and I even considered moving back to Tennessee (it was a short little conversation during one of the "f*ck this" moments and we both realized it was a horrible idea and brushed it off).

I try to get through process like this with sarcasm, but the fact that it can all be frustrating is a real thing.

We were only going to be staying with my aunt for about two weeks.... and that turned into two months (and switched aunts houses).

Everytime we seemed to have found something either things didn't pan out or a offer was put in before we could even schedule to look at it.

It just honestly seemed impossible and I kind of wanted to throw myself off of a cliff.... not to be dramatic or anything.

And then we thought we had maybe found a great contender.... but then again, we had thought that before and it had been snatched, so we didn't want to get our hopes up too high. Once the house had been seen, an offer was put in and the inspection had to be done. We knew that whatever we found was going to need some kind of work. And if it was something like paint or flooring, something like that, we were good with it. But if it was a "major" problem, it would be a no-go for us.

We got the inspection back and there were just a few things that we had asked the current owners to fix and then we had to wait on their response.... and wait. And then.... wait some more. It was basically like being in Limbo and it was stressful.

But then again, this entire process/situation has been stressful, so we were pretty used to it at that point.

The current owner's counter-offered and agreed to fix three of the four things that were submitted and the last thing (unattached garage roof needs some work) would be up to us. They've been fixing things for a couple of weeks and now it's time for closing.

We weren't sure how far off the closing would be, since the paperwork takes FOREVER (all paperwork for everything on the planet takes forever.... I do a shit ton of paperwork at my current job, so I know this), so we've just been waiting.

And then the call came in and told us the closing date and time. Y'all, the house will be ours.... tomorrow at 5:00pm. And I for one am pretty damn happy about it. We'll be moving the majority of our stuff this weekend, but will probably have to get the rest of it over a little bit of time, because it's such short notice and some of our family has offered to help us move stuff, but they have lives too and can't just spend all of their time on us. And we're good with that.

So, wish us luck y'all. Hopefully, this house will be the "last" house.... because f*ck moving.

When you start getting gray hair at twenty-seven.

The other day (Sunday maybe?) Aunt Poot looked at the top of my head and informed me that my roots have grown out.... I was forced to tell her that I don't have any dye or anything else in my hair and haven't in a very long time (like, years), so everything that's showing in my hair is in fact just natural.

She took another look and said, "oh my, Katie you're getting gray hair." I think she thought I was going to freak out or be mad, but since I'm very aware that I have some gray hair (and have had it coming in for a long while), I was good with it.

You see, I used to do all kinds of things with my hair. I'm talking dye, bleach, cut, pull, yank, twist.... in fact, it's kind of a miracle that I have any hair left (and that I'm lucky enough that it's healthy).

I never dyed my hair, because I was embarrassed by it. I used to do all kinds of things to it, because it was fun and I was curious to see what I would look like with something different. You know, kind of how some people get piercings or tattoos.... except I wanted to do something that wasn't quite so permanent. So, I went crazy with my hair.

Momma was never one to get all looney-tunes about me changing my hair and I started messing with it when I was around twelve. With dying my hair from twelve until I was in my early twenties, I hadn't seen my natural color in YEARS and kind of forgot what it actually was. (I had no recollection of having kind of strawberry blonde hair, but apparently it was always there underneath the dark dye).

But now my hair won't hold color anymore (it's probably damn tired of trying to keep up) and honestly, I'm pretty much over dying it. I say leave it be and let the chips fall where they may. Alot of the women in my family have started to get gray hair young, most of them in their twenties just like me and I'm good with it. Besides, women are rocking that shit these days.

Aside from getting it cut (did I mention how much I love having my medium/kind of short hair again?), I think my "hair experimenting" days are over.

Side note: I had to have the most ridiculous argument with my cousin over her hair, because I asked her who did hers and she tried to tell me the color that was on her head was all her natural color.... and I had to tell her she was full of shit, because NOBODY is born with burgundy hair. 

*insert exasperated emoji here*

The first day that I've listened to Christmas music on the radio (in 2017).

This morning when I got to work and turned on the radio the station that was set (old school rap channel.... because sometimes you just need a little Biggie and Eminem to get you through the day) it started playing Christmas music. I wasn't necessarily happy about it, because it still doesn't feel like it should be here yet (I swear me and Uncle D just took down Christmas 2016 decorations). However, I left it on, because Dani LOVES Christmas music. She's definitely one of "those" people.

She, of course, was thrilled and I just glared at her from across the room.... that is, until I got back from running some errands on my lunch break and had the office to myself and the radio played my absolute favorite.... Bing Crosby. (While I'm still not "holly jolly" Bing always help at least put me in a good mood).

Why is it not "that time of year" until I hear Bing Crosby? Well, because Bing is dreaming of a White Christmas, dammit. Not too mention that I insist on watching the movie White Christmas at least a few times around this time of year (and I also watch it year round.... and I'm not even sorry about it).

Momma and I have the tradition of watching White Christmas for the first time every holiday season on Thanksgiving night. With us staying with Aunt Poot/Uncle D until our house is ready, I'm not sure how this will work out.... but I'm sure if I asked they would probably be ok with watching it.

I mean, who doesn't like White Christmas? And if you say yourself or someone you know.... don't talk to me, we can't be friends. Seriously, I'm pretty sure we have nothing in common and I'll probably be convinced that you're evil and Satan reincarnate. Not to be dramatic or anything....

White Christmas was released in 1954, so it has existed long before I was thought of (and before Momma was thought of for that matter.... I think maybe Aunt Poot was born in 1954?).  And while I tend to be a bit of a Scrooge (I just never feel the "holly jolly holiday spirit"), there is nothing that beats this movie to me.

And a big part of that is Bing Crosby singing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" (and of course, Danny Kaye dragging Bing into some of those crazy situations while holding his arm).

So, I guess no matter how insane it is that it's already "that time of year" already, hearing this on the radio does in fact confirm it.... I reckon that means Uncle D and I will be putting up Christmas decorations this Friday (because I officially have a four day weekend coming up and I'm not sad about it). Wish us luck.

Just chilling here in Limbo totally not about to have a nervous breakdown.

We're still waiting to hear back about the house. While we're hopeful that this is "the one" and that it just might cure all of our current problems (fat chance, but please don't take this little ray of hope away), the fact that you have to wait on things like this is for lack of a better word.... AGONY.

Ok, maybe it's not that dramatic, but I think we can all agree that it still sucks.

When we decided on this moving thing we were hoping that it would take no more than a month to find something and not a whole lot longer to get in.... and that was about two months ago. Which granted isn't an extreme amount of time, but when you're living with someone else, feeling like you're a huge convenience, it feels alot longer.

Not to mention, I think we all have our little habits when we live by ourselves, or with certain people, and you have to be aware and change those things, because you're not in your own home anymore.

And Aunt Poot/Uncle D have made us feel nothing but welcome, but I'm assuming that they would like to have their house back to a two man team, since that's what they're used to. (Although when we move, Poot is gonna have to come down and visit a bunch).

Moving is such a pain in the ass. Once you decide to make a "big move" everything seems insane and if you don't have a great game plan, it all seems a little more stressful than it has to be. Then again, you can also think you've found something that's going to work out great and it turns out to be a shit show.

But then again, most things you do are, so you just know to roll with it at this point.

When we had our inspection last Tuesday, there were just a couple of things that he was concerned about. We knew that the garage roof needed work, and while we put that on the list to find out if the current owners will fix any part of that when we followed up with them, we kind of put it on there as a Hail Mary. With it not being directly attached to the house, it's important, but I think we can get it through the winter and maybe deal with it when things settle a little bit in the summer.

The other two things that he recommended was to have someone come in and take the furnace apart to have it checked thoroughly and to have the drainage checked (apparently the tub and sinks drain slower than he likes and it may just need to be cleaned out by pros?). When they responded to us they were getting quotes from people about the drains and furnace, and now we're just waiting to hear back on all of that.

BUT IT'S STILL STRESSFUL DAMMIT.

When you're looking for "the one."

So.... I've been fairly vocal about this whole having to find a new house, because the one we were living in really should be condemned (and sadly, the landowners have already tricked someone else into moving in).

In the process of me being very vocal about this, I have also made several jokes to try and make life lighter, because let's be real, it's a very stressful and strenuous thing to deal with.

This whole year has been quite anxiety-ridden, (some not bad, just stressful), and some very life altering things have happened, and it just never seems to lighten up. But, we push through and just keep going, because that's what we do. And at the end of the day, at least we have each other and you just can't put a price tag on that kind of thing. It's indescribable.

It's been quite a process.

The next house that we move into will probably be the house that Momma and I spend the rest of our lives in. Bubba tends to bounce around wherever he wants to and always has, but this will legitimately probably be the last one. Mostly because we're both so damn tired of moving.

We've moved so many damn times in my life, and she moved a million times before that, so we're just damned ole done. It's exhausting and having some stability and something to call "our own" doesn't sound like such a horrible idea.

That's why when the conversation came up about this move, it was decided that we should buy instead of rent. And there were a whole lot of factors in that, and a whole lot of back and forth, but in the end, a mortgage and house insurance made more sense than rent to us. And yes, there are alot of factors that go into home ownership, but there are also a large number of reasons that this makes the most sense.

Furthermore, let's be honest, bitches are raising rent to ridiculous prices and you can't even really afford to make ends meet. Not saying that owning a house will make that easier, because it won't, but when you break it down (or at least, when we broke it down), it seems like this is the most sensible thing to do at this time.

It was brought to my attention that someday I may want to move back to Tennessee, because in my head and heart that's my home, but honestly, I have no desire to move back. Sure, I miss some of my friends and I miss the quiet peacefulness of it, and the country roads, and small towns, but it's not the place that I grew up anymore. And we're all different.

So, for now, we are planning our lives right here. Hopefully it will get smoother from here on out.

We've looked at so many houses in a two month span that honestly they're all starting to look alike and run together and I can't keep most of them straight. But hopefully, God willing and the creeks don't rise, we may have found one. It's even a little bit below the price range we were looking into and if everything checks out and is on the up and up, it'll be the house we close on and move into. Our inspection is today (11/7).

Fingers crossed.

When you decide to cut "all" of your hair off (or in my case, a few inches).

Ok, maybe "all of" your hair is a little dramatic when it comes to me, because I still have a shit ton of hair left.... BUT I did get over a foot of it cut off, so that has to count for something, right?!

See, what happened was I've been talking about getting my hair cut for MONTHS, if not a couple of years. And while I didn't get the dramatic cut that I kept talking about, because I'm a giant puss, I did get quite a bit of it chopped.

How much? Well.... over a foot. And more than four pounds (and I know this, because she weighed it at four pounds and she had already swept some of it up).

Count it. FOUR. POUNDS.

Who would've thought it would be so easy to lose some weight? Just get a pretty big haircut and it apparently does the trick. And it's so hilarious, because I had so much hair chopped off and there's still SO much of it. Usually this is what people look like in the "before" photos when they're going to get a bunch of hair chopped off.

But you know what? It feel better, it's not as hard to brush as it was, I use 3/10 of the shampoo and conditioner that I was using, I have less hair to wrangle and clean up (I shed like a German Shepard), and it just seems generally easier to deal with (which is my favorite part).

And sure, it was cool having really long hair and it made me feel fancy (only in my head, never in everyday life), because society has kind of always grinded the fact that "women should have long hair" into our brains, but this is the length that I always used to wear my hair and I like it.

Next time I go for a trim I might even go shorter.

When there's leftover candy and you're basically a candy gremlin.

*as I'm filling a small Ziploc bag with leftover Halloween candy and putting it in my purse*

Aunt Poot: "Oh, that's so sweet of you. Are you fixing a bag of candy to take to work and share?"

Me: "....... yes..... that's what I'm doing...... I totally wasn't going to just put this in my purse all for myself."

Aunt Poot: "You're so sweet."

Me: "It's from the candy."

He hates it when I dress him up.... Halloween 2017.

Last night was Halloween (yes, it was extremely weird to know that Halloween was on a Tuesday) and this morning I woke up to head into work and it was snowing. I'm not exactly sure how those two facts are related, but in any event, I felt the need to share both, because I'm a giver, that's why.

We had 193 little ghoulies come up for the trick-or-treating and Uncle Darrell decided to start calling me "Big Fist" because apparently some of those kids got very lucky in the sense that I was loading them down with goodies. Joke's on him though, because shit turned out ok for "Stands with a Fist" in the end.

I've had a cold for the last couple of days, so my night was full of sniffles and "low key" fun, but Uncle D and I did manage to last the full two hours (trick-or-treat time was from 6pm to 8pm) and afterwards I choked down some meds, took a shower, and watched Bull (it's a new love for me, but a love none the less) and NCIS: New Orleans (we've been in love since the beginning), so in the end, it's all good.

*If you put aside waking up with charlie horses in my left leg, gagging from round the clock sinus drainage, I can't eat, and the fact that it was snowing and I rolled my eyes at 5:30 this morning.... I know, dramatic.*

But all of this is just to show you Tayder's Halloween costume and to ramble for a minute (or six). Without further ado, I present.... the Taydasauraus.

I'm currently homeless with no couch.

As most people know, we are staying with my aunt (Momma's sister) and uncle for a few weeks until we can find/approve/sign paperwork/move into a different house, since the one we were living in was a mess.

(Also, we were originally staying with a different aunt, but now we're staying with Poot and Doodle.)

I can't emphasize enough how stressful of a process this has been. It truly has been insane and there have been days that I would just like to stay in bed and not move to join the working world around me. You ever do that? I've never been one to reset an alarm and have always gotten straight up out of bed when I needed to.... that is not the case anymore, as I reset my alarm at least twice a morning.

*oomph*

But through everything we have just reminded ourselves that this is all temporary (it would go alot quicker if bitches didn't try to sell you a shack with a list of problems and a giant price tag), and our family has made the transition quite a bit easier. They've done nothing but try to help and make us feel welcome, and for that, I am forever thankful.

However, that doesn't mean that all stress has dissipated (quite the opposite, actually) and through it all, at least we've kept our sense of humors. And yes, that is what people say to make themselves feel better about their lives being in shambles and they're contemplating running away to Argentina. (And no, I don't know why I picked Argentina). 

When the phone guy cracks you the hell up.

Thursday evening, Momma, Aunt Poot, and I went and got our phones situated (our last ones have been out of commission for about seven or so months), and hilarity ensued.

The guy that worked at the Sprint store (I'm very sad that I can't recall his name) was working by himself and there was nothing short of a full man show going on. Not only was he on top of everything and got shit handled pretty quickly, but he also reduced Aunt Poot's bill and made us all laugh non-stop.

Do you ever just meet someone and you're immediately like "I need to be friends with this person" and y'all just start throwing crazy shit out there? That's what happened.

Among other things, we got to talking about piercings/tattoos and how some people actually get into things like that to try and explore and get in touch with their culture and ancestors (something that he has been easing into, as he recently found out that he is part West African). And how others do it and take it to the extreme just following a kind of "fad."

And once he and I got into talking about his background/culture, as he is also part Puerto Rican and Muslim, that's when hilarity started to ensue. You see, the reason I can't remember his name is because he has at least eight of them. Apparently in Hispanic culture it is custom for a man to receive not only his own two names, but also two surnames of his parents.

(Traditionally, a person's first surname is the father's first surname and the second is the mother's first surname.).

And then we had this conversation....
(side note: we're both around the same age)

Him: "Yeah, when I was seventeen I almost got deported when I went to get my license." Me: "Seriously?!" Him: "They didn't even know where they were going to send me, they were just gonna stick me in an internment camp until they figured it out." Me: "That's insane! I'm so glad that didn't happen to you. That would have been horrible!!" Him: "You're telling me, I'm from North Carolina." Me: ......... Him........

**and then we both busted out in a ridiculous fit of laughter**

We're going to be moving.... again.

Almost five years ago I made a dramatic move (dramatic physically and emotionally, because hello I'm a girl and that's what we do) and left my childhood hometown (in the boondocks) to move Momma back to her home state. Things we're crazy and hectic and life seemed all over the place.

We lived with two of my uncles for about a year and a half and then she and I got ourselves our apartment.... and only lived there for about a year. We were about six months into living in our apartment when my brother decided to flip his life upside down and move back in with us, so that in turn flipped our lives upside down (and yes, I sang that in the Fresh Prince's voice).

After finishing the lease out in our two-bedroom apartment we moved into a three-bedroom house. And we've been there for almost two years (our lease is up the beginning of October). But, now here we are, fixing to move.... again?

Why are we moving?

Well, when we moved into this house I made the comment that I wasn't moving again until I died, because I'm tired of it, it's hard, and I'm getting too old to be lugging boxes everywhere (no, I'm not old, but I'm dramatic). But.... I didn't realize that the house was going to start falling in on us and that our landlords would do NOTHING about it. Seriously, that's what happening. We call and report the things that are wrong with the house and they NEVER get back to us about any of it. And we've called MULTIPLE times.

Not long after we moved in (three to four months, maybe?) our furnace went out and I had to call and cuss and pretty much threaten to call the authorities, because they didn't want to fix it. They just wanted us to live with no heat.... and it was -6 degrees outside (29 degrees in the house). Do you know how pissed off it made me to have to threaten to call the authorities? I ain't ever called cops in my entire life and these bitches almost made me start.

Some of the other things going on with the house? Well, where would you like me to start?

Underneath the kitchen sink is going to have to be completely replaced, because every single pipe leaks and the sink itself is coming loose. The baseboards in our kitchen leak and when it rains/snows/etc we end up with standing water across the kitchen (I got up early the other morning and went into the kitchen and had to pull out my Risky Business moves, because I went sliding). The ceiling in our kitchen is coming, down, because of a major roof leak.... and so is the ceiling in the laundry room.... and the one in our bathroom. Speaking of the jacked up roof, shingles fly off with even the slightest whisper of wind. The steps on the front porch are not attached (at all). The bathroom sink is detaching from the wall. The caulk/molding in the shower is mostly gone. The toilet won't flush (and it's not a being clogged up problem) and the septic backs up into the front yard. Is that everything? No. Is that more than enough? It's too much.

So now, here we are. Playing the waiting game.

Unfortunately, there have been a lot of hiccups surrounding this entire thing, and we thought that we were just going to have to stay in the house we were in until we could find something better (and pay the ridiculous amount of money they wanted for a "month to month" lease instead of a "year long" lease).... but then one day, my Aunt Mary came to the house and insisted that we stay with her and my uncle for a couple of weeks, so we wouldn't have to live in the cruddy house and pay gobs and gobs of money to them. I was leary of it, because I hate asking people for help, (and I swore I'd never live with more family again) but she pretty much insisted and informed me that I didn't ask, it was her idea (because every woman in my family answers things the exact same way.... with sarcasm!) and now we're out of that house and staying with them (for just a few weeks) while we look at available houses.

And the moving process? Let's just say it was a long weekend.

Because it's just too good not to share.

I've We've talked about my ongoing battle with my hair a time or two.... right?! I always say that I'm going to grow it long and when it's long I hate it and want it short, but then I cut it short I hate it and want it to grow and.... do you see where I'm going with this? Do you see that I'm never satisfied with my hair? (Except one time when I was like, eighteen and had my favorite hairstyle that I've ever had.... another story for another day).

It's an ongoing battle that I've been fighting my entire life.... ever since my arch nemesis cut off one of my pigtails (yes, just one, and YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE). And honestly I can trace it back to that exact moment (and the little asshole that did it), but it only got increasingly worse as I got older and always toed the line between Wtf and #JeffFoxworthyHairDontCare. And while it's long now and I like the way it looks when I put effort into it, the truth is, I don't put effort in nearly enough (because eff that) and I end up with it piled on top of my head.

And that opens the door for a myriad of things including, but not limited to: headaches, pain, agony, and defeat (not to be dramatic or anything). Plus, I sometimes get my hair shut in my car door.... more often than I care to admit. And while it's curly and has a mind of it's own, I think I would miss it if I was to cut it short. Why?!

Well, I have a tendency to live more in my imagination then I do in actual reality, and I "feel" like I should have long hair. You know, because in all of the legendary love stories/books and movies that I insist on reading/watching, you never hear of the "long lost love" or "woman of the dreams" or "heroine of her own destiny" having short hair. You just don't. The only one that I can think of off the top of my head is Maggie Greene-Rhee and let's be honest, she's such a badass that you can't argue with her.

And while my sensibility tells me that's ridiculous and my inner "warrior woman" says that's foolish, I can't seem to compute that to my actual brain. I always think of cutting my hair and end up at, "what if?!" I know that shouldn't bother me, but it does. And if you think I'm as crazy as what I do, I get it, but just know.... EXPLAIN IT TO MY BRAIN AND MAKE IT UNDERSTAND, BECAUSE IT'S A JERK (and that's probably why that makes up at least 87% of my personality).

Also, doesn't society.... and your family/friends kind of make you feel like if you're female you should have long hair?!

I say all of this, because I don't know how to not ramble feel the need to tell you that when you have a lifetime full of "hair woes" you're bound to have some real "gems" hidden away in old pictures. (And so do your family and friends). And when I run across a really good one.... I have to share. So, without further ado, I give to you.... Katie and Amanda (and our friend from back in the day- Devo) at ten.... eleven? (twelve?). Something like that. We are truly the epitome of 90s kids.

This simply could not wait until Thursday.... Manda, there's no one else I would have rather survived my 1983 bangs and high waisted "mom" jeans with. 😂 9/4.

A post shared by Katie Hopwood (@kdhopwood) on Sep 4, 2017 at 4:45pm PDT

There are numerous advantages to being 53.... just ask any 83 year old.

Today is my Momma's 53rd (but if anybody asks, 25th) birthday. I'm so happy that I get to see her on this day and every day, because a couple of months ago I didn't know if I was ever going to get to celebrate another birthday with her. She's come a long way and her strength and perseverance is something that I marvel at daily. She truly is one of the strongest people that I have ever known and I'm very proud to call myself her daughter. 

While she always insists that no one make a "big deal" when it comes to her birthday, I make it a point to let her know how special she is to me every day. And whether she likes it or not, people want to celebrate this day with her (and all the other days, as well), because she really is just that great of a person.

Here's to you, Momma. It's your party.... and you can cry drink nap party do what you want to. I love you.

This beautiful lady right here turns 53 today. I couldn't be any luckier in the "Mom Department" if they tried. She is, hands down, the best mother, friend, and woman that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I love you more than you'll ever know, Momma. You're my best friend, mother, and most importantly, my heart. You're a bee charmer. ❤️ 9/20.

A post shared by Katie Hopwood (@kdhopwood) on Sep 20, 2017 at 3:39am PDT

Rearranging our office. (And now people can stay away from us).

Most of the people that know me know that I have personal space issues. Not in the sense that I invade other people's personal space, because I don't know boundaries, but in the sense that I can't stand for many people to be in mine.

And it's not like that with everyone. If I know you very well and love you then you're more than welcome into my personal space.... mostly sometimes. I try not to be a giant pain in the ass with it, but sometimes, you just can't let shit go.

For the past (almost) five years, Danielle and I have shared quite a bit of our personal space (and she's just as bad at it as I am, if not worse) while at work. Our desks were right next to each other, scooched up against the back wall of our office. If you need a little guide to know how close we had to spend about nine hours a day/5 days a week together then just know, we shared a power surger. And not the extension cord kind.

And it was like this, because we had no space. And I don't mean that metaphorically, I mean that literally.... WE HAD ZERO SPACE. Our entire office was filled with two desks and enough file cabinets to drive a gal insane. This is how little space we had.... we had to store files on our "deck" that was basically falling down and we risked our lives every single day that we attempted to go out there.

Everything was dirty and disgusting.... and cluttered.

But ever since we had an additional room added onto our office to replace the janky deck (remember?) we've been slowly trying to pull things together and set up a system to make things more efficient (we were basically just "winging it" until then). FINALLY the additional room was complete and half ass pulled together, but we were still cluttered in our office.

You see, no matter how many good intentions that we had, the fact that our company has been busier this year than it has been in years (yay!) has made it incredibly difficult to complete (or even start) certain tasks. We usually don't stop working from the time we show up until the time we leave and there's always a stack of shit to pick up with the next day. So, we've kind of just been dealing with it.

Until today.

And today Danielle decided (technically she decided this on Tuesday?) that we were going to make the time to rearrange our office since we FINALLY have the room for it. Further down the road they're wanting to repaint and put some new flooring down, but that's still awhile off, because SO. DAMN. BUSY. So, we decided we might as well get everything moved around to see if it would work and how we would like it.

Sidenote: watching her and I try to move two bigass fireproof/bombproof/judgement day proof file cabinets was hilarious. We yanked and pulled and pushed with all of our might and.... nothing. Forreal, those things wouldn't budge. But no worries.... we never admit defeat! I mean, we might be defeated, but we'll never admit it.

Guess what?! We LOVE it. And I'm not one that drops the "L" word at every whipstitch. It really is just that much better and instead of being so close together that we're almost sharing a chair, now we're.... ON OPPOSITE SIDES OF THE ROOM. And we're both pretty damn happy about it. I mean, I love her, but COME ON.... we needed space. And now we have it and our office is more open for other activities.... let the Nerf wars begin.

Solar Eclipse 2017.

Bitches are going crazy over this whole "Historic Solar Eclipse" thing.

I get it. Solar Eclipses are fairly rare and this kind (coast to coast) won't be making the rounds again for another 99 years. But as soon as I heard that do you know what I thought?! I thought, "oh thank God, I'll be dead for the next one." Because that is literally how crazy bitches are getting this time around.

People are taking the day off of work, some schools are closing, and honestly people are debating on whether or not this could possibly be judgement day? I'm not really sure what those people are on, but they are very upset about it and forming protests.

And then you have Danielle and I that had to come to work (because our boss would've laughed if we would've said we were taking off for the eclipse) and we have to sing "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and have ridiculous conversations like this one:

Danielle: "I'll just use this envelope box to make an Eclipse box since I don't have a cereal box."
Me: "Will that still work?"
Danielle: "Uh yeah, I don't think it's contingent upon the kind of cereal, Kate."
Me: "Not even what I meant, asshole."

The majority of people are very excited and saying things on social media like: "just got my pair of Eclipse glasses" and "can't wait to share this with the kiddos."

And then you have the other type of people (aka my FB friends) that have taken an entirely different turn and are saying things like: "Seriously, I'm so sick of hearing about this eclipse. Yes, it's a once in a lifetime event, but so was yesterday!" and "Remember, the best way to watch the eclipse is with two large magnifying glasses held about eleven inches from your eyes."

Because my friends are bitches and I love them for it.

And in case you want to take part in this event just know that you can google "solar eclipse 2017" with your town/state and it will give you the exact time that it will be in "full effect" where you're at.

Ours is apparently right at 2:24 pm. And in case you're wondering, yes, you will have the overwhelming need to look behind you and stare right into the sun, BUT DON'T BECAUSE YOU WILL GO BLIND.

My brother is about to be a dad. (Part III).

Actually, my brother has been a dad (and I've been an aunt, I guess?) for almost six months now, but I started out with this whole "my brother is ABOUT to be a dad" posting and now there's no turning back for me.

Catch up on Part I here and Part II here.

All caught up now?! Good.... because I have some complaining things I would like to talk about when it comes to this whole "having a nephew" thing. And I know people are usually very excited about this whole "having a baby around" thing, but I'm a horrible person and just don't care for it at all.

Gabby literally has the same look on his face that every single woman has walking into and throughout Target. 😂 8/7.

A post shared by Katie Hopwood (@kdhopwood) on Aug 7, 2017 at 4:12pm PDT

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like this particular baby or don't love him or anything, but.... how do I explain this without sounding like even more of a dick than I already do? I thought having a baby around would be.... more fun, I guess?!

Actually I don't even really know what I mean, because it's hard to explain. Let me start over.... my brother sends me around the clock pictures/videos/facetime calls with Gabby front and center. I mean, I get it, he's proud of his kid and all.

But.... I don't think I need to see EVERYTHING that he does. Why? Because he doesn't really do anything. Afterall, he IS a baby (he'll be six months old on the first of next month) and at this point he only knows like three tricks. Yes, I know he's not a dog, BUT aren't babies supposed to be just a more fragile version of a puppy?!

No?! Oomph, I didn't see that one coming.
Is thinking your nephew is cute NOT enough?!!

The point is, my brother sends me constant videos of Gabby.... and he's always doing the same thing (staring into the video and on occasion making a random burp sound). And then he sends me pictures of every little detail of his life.... and he's always doing the same thing (staring at something and looking really confused). And then he Facetimes me and wants me to stare at Gabby while he does whatever trick my brother and his girlfriend are convinced that he can do.... even though he's ALWAYS doing the same thing (again, staring at someone/something looking super confused and on occasion making a burping sound). And let's not mention the pictures he sends me that have Snapchat filters on them and they freak me the hell out (because I've usually had quite a few drinks by the time I receive them). Every once in awhile you'll get a laugh (or nap) out of him, but that's about it.

I'm not trying to sound like an ass or anything, but most people that know me know that I'm not "huge" on the whole baby thing to begin with.... like, I get that y'all want them and love them, but my anxiety levels and looming sarcasm don't seem to really let me in on the phenomenon that is babies.

I'm going to hell, aren't I?! The answer is yes.... but for so many other reasons other than this. I guess what I'm trying to get at is: Bro, I know you love your kid (and that's great, you're supposed to!), but I don't need to stare at him do nothing. Holler at me when he can start pouring drinks or cleaning toilets.... now that I'll find exciting!!

Why they gotta do me like that?!

I'm about three weeks into this whole having a legit driver's license thing (yes, we've established that I'm late to the party and blah blah), and FINALLY received my actual license in the mail.

Can y'all believe that they give you a temporary paper one and you have to wait forever and a day for the laminated one?! They used to make that shit (and actual plates) right there and it took a total of like fifteen minutes.

And now I sound old as shit. MOVING ON.

While most people are usually excited when they receive their licenses (I am), I also knew what that nasty little picture on it looked like.... so, I wasn't exceptionally good with it. Does anyone actually look good on their driver's license? You know, besides probably Kate Beckinsale?! Asking for a friend.

What does it look like?! Well, they had to retake my picture about seven times, because their machine was broken and it wouldn't read my image (how ugly do you have to be before even a government issued machine is like "nah, bruh"?) and the girl that was taking my photo and I couldn't stop laughing (and I was blind from (a)not being able to wear my glasses and (b) from having a fluorescent bulb go off in my face eight times).... for those reasons, I knew it was going to be a doozy.

And dude, was I right.

Furthermore, did y'all know that they put your weight on your driver's license?! Rude. I don't need Brenda behind the cash register at the liquor store judging me while I'm buying my whiskey. Seriously, I go in there and she's all "you're in here at least four times a week" and I replied with, "well, so are you, BRENDA" and she made sure to let me know, "well, I work here" and I had to throw back at her, "QUIT BEING SUCH A SNOB, BRENDA." And while that probably has more to do with my slight drinking problem, I'm going with she's judgy, because they put your weight on your license.... because I'm an adult, and it helps (no, it doesn't). It is pretty hilarious to see my "grown up/adult license" say that I'm only five foot though.

This past Sunday (7/30) was my big brother's birthday.

I don't know if y'all remember my only sibling or not.... but he just turned thirty-one and my jokes are only getting better with his age. I don't think thirty-one is old AT ALL.... except when it involves him. (So. Many. Jokes.).

With age for him has come many things. However, the capacity to do laundry, take out the trash, mow the lawn, vacuum, cook, flush the toilet, and other household chores/regular shit that adults do apparently aren't any of those "acquired" things that he seems to have picked up. He does kind of creak when he stands up too quick or has been sleeping for awhile, so that's kind of fun (for me).

He was off on his birthday this year and while his girlfriend took him out for a bit, they left the baby with us (against my will and I did not agree to it).... and it was a bit difficult. But, whatever, I did my sisterly duty for the decade day and he better not try to pull that shit again. (I'm watching you, dude).

Happy 31st Birthday to this fool.... hey dude, remember when you were cute and lovable?! Yeah, me either. But I just wanted to let you know, that no matter what, I'm always comforted by the fact that no matter how old I get, you'll always be older!! HBD, big brother. ❤️ 7/30.

A post shared by Katie Hopwood (@kdhopwood) on Jul 30, 2017 at 2:07pm PDT

I would like to share with you some stories about all the love and affection that my family showers upon people on their birthdays every year.... but that's not how we roll. Instead, we prefer to harass you for an entire day and proceed to drink. Which isn't all that different from any other day, but we tell you that we're doing it "in your honor" so you can feel special while pickling our livers.

Also, I was taking trash out and trying to figure out where all of the laundry in the basket had come from (I did ALL of the laundry yesterday when I got home from work) at 2:50 this morning and I'll give you two guesses where it all of the mess came from. But you'll only need the one guess, because IT WAS HIM.

He seems to have enjoyed his day and we were all grilling out anyways (his, my aunt, and my cousins birthdays are all within like three days of each other).... not to mention Ashley caught the grill on fire and that shit was hilarious. And then we all wished happy birthdays and took naps (because of the drinking).... in his honor, of course.

So.... here's to you (three days late), big bro. I love you, but seriously.... flush the f*cking toilet.

Getting better every day.

It's been a little over three weeks since we had to rush Momma to the ER, it'll be three weeks tomorrow since she had to have emergency surgery, and a little over two weeks since I got to bring her home. While there has been a lot of adjustments, and we continue to learn about new ones everyday, the improvement that she has been making has been phenomenal.

And I'm usually one of those, "knock on wood" "don't jinx it" kind of people, but I am also one of those people that like to give credit where credit is due and tell people how proud I am of someone when I truly am.

So, here I am. Telling and sharing.... even if it happens to be usually against my will on the personal front.

Today was a good day. -Ice Cube 😂 7/15.

A post shared by Katie Hopwood (@kdhopwood) on Jul 15, 2017 at 12:57pm PDT

Momma's incision has been closing up nicely and she has an appointment next Thursday to see about getting her staples out.... which will probably make things feel a little bit better on the healing front. Tomorrow will be the first time she's been out for an appointment since she's come home.... but she did get out with me a couple of days after we got home to go to the grocery store and pick up some meds. She really wore herself out that day, but she was so insanely happy to get out for a bit.

Other than that we've been mainly chilling and taking it easy, all while still putting in the work to get better and stronger every day. To say that she's impressive would be an understatement.

There was a Physical Therapist (PT) that came out once and gave us some really good advice/pointers on getting around until she's more comfortable/steady.... and he told me it's extremely helpful that I've has training in that field (healthcare, that is). And she has an RN that comes out once/twice a week, named Jenny and she's been great and Momma really likes her.

I returned to work the week after I got to bring her home and while I go home on my lunch breaks, my family has been insanely helpful when it comes to day to day life. One of my aunts comes and stays with her during the day when I'm at work and in the evenings and on weekends it's just the two of us (don't even get me started on my brother).

And honestly, since I've gotten my license, life has become easier. She doesn't worry about me driving and I don't have to wait to go get something that she may need. We've settled into a little groove/routine, I guess you could say for the moment. She's still down a little more than usual, because of the meds and all, but still in incredibly high spirits and making some of the most hilarious jokes that you've ever heard.

It's definitely been a learning curve for us, but like I always say.... we got this.

4,017 days (give or take one or two) late.

So.... on Tuesday (7/18) I went and took my Driver's test. And.... I actually passed it on the first try. Now, I know you're thinking, "but Katie, you're twenty-seven, why didn't you already have your license?" and to that I say, let that shit go.

Like, Elsa would.

This past December I had went and gotten my permit and while I wanted to go and take the test exactly six months later (how long I had to hold the permit) I was unaware of the fact that you had to schedule your exam.

I mean, it might be like 4,017 days (give or take) late, but that's not the point. 🚗 7/18.

A post shared by Katie Hopwood (@kdhopwood) on Jul 18, 2017 at 3:12pm PDT

Back in the day you could just go into the BMV and they had someone there to give you your exam just like every other thing.... then again, they also used to make your license plates and ID cards/licenses right there that day and now they give you a paper substitute and you have to wait for 10-14 business days to receive them via mail, but I digress.

I tried to make my appointment online, but it doesn't allow you to make the appointments more than two weeks in advance and they had NOTHING in that time frame. So, when Momma and I had to go in and get our plates for Ricardo I went ahead and scheduled it.

And then proceeded to have a constant anxiety attack for the next three to four weeks.

But, aside from my little insecurities, I'm fairly comfortable in my car now. I'm still scared shitless in others, but I'm pretty good in mine. And while that doesn't sound like a big "to do" to anybody else, it is to me, as it's a fear that I've been struggling with for the past eight years.

I decided to try and overcome this fear months ago and slowly, but surely have made progress. At least, that's what they keep telling me. And by "they" I mean me and my occasional passenger. With everything that's been happening with Momma, between the eye surgeries, and her emergency surgery, (not too mention her stroke three years ago), I really couldn't have made this decision at a better time (except if I would have made it like, ten years ago- NOT THE POINT).

Now, I have a license. Like, not a baby license, but a regular one. You know what this means? Watch out, people.

And by "watch out" I mean, I drive the speed limit and try to follow all the rules of the road, so I'm not one of those "I don't know how to use my f*cking blinker" type of people.