We watched all the "28" movies... and it was alot.

28 Years Later just dropped on Netflix this past Saturday (ie: Momma's 61st birthday), and after talking about it for a little bit, Dev and me decided to watch all three movies, because why not? 

**SPOILER ALERT** I'm gonna be talking about all three movies so if you haven't seen any and/or all... don't say I didn't tell you and it's not my fault if my rambling ruined it for you. And if it is, my bad, dude.

First on the list... 28 Days Later. Can I just say I thought I had seen this movie before? I really thought I had. But, I must've seen it when it first came out (when I was like twelve?), or I've just been watching clips of it for so many years that I thought I had seen it. Either way, I didn't remember any of it so brand new to me.

In fact, all three were brand new to the both of us because we had never watched any of them... apparently.

Anyways... I feel like these movies probably hit a little different post-pandemic. I mean, when shit was shutting down and people were fist-fighting over toilet paper... didn't you kind of think it was pre-apocalypse? 

I couldn't have been the only one that thought it felt a little zombie-adjacent out there. Even now... I'm not 100% positive some of these bitches in the city aren't zombies. That could be bathsalts though so...

You wanna know what my biggest problem with the first movie was? Ok, I'll tell you. The movie is 28 DAYS later... essentially FOUR weeks between the outbreak and quarantine/apocalypse. Following so far? Cool... so at some point in the movie the survivors hear a broadcast that's been happening about a week (so... 21 DAYS//THREE WEEKS in) and they decide to travel to this "safe zone." Come to find out... it's full of soldiers... but it is indeed not safe and ALL the dudes there (except one that gets offed by his own team for  not agreeing with them) are literally rapey-predators that are more concerned about vagina than having their faces eaten off. I mean... SERIOUSLY?! It took y'all exactly 21 days to lose all traces of humanity and start trying to trap women like they're deer? Sad commentary on the world we live in. And by sad, I mean ICK at how accurate I feel this would be.

Which leads us to... 28 Weeks Later. It starts off by showing a set of survivors trying to hide and make it through and then picks up 28 weeks after the initial outbreak. First off, can I just say that if my entire country was evacuated because a zombie-rage plague broke out... I'm certainly not going to catch a plane or train back like seven months later because they say it's been "handled." Ok... but like... how did y'all handle it? I AIN'T GOING BACK. Whatever. 

So... in the process of all this they try to make you mad at the "main" survivor from the beginning. He's apparently pretty important or something... the infected swarm the house they're in and while he tries to get his wife out with him she essentially has absolutely no survival instinct whatsoever and insists on saving a little boy that ran in. I get it... the mama bear in her was strong to protect this kid... but like... your hubby didn't agree to those terms and conditions. He tried to get her out and she ran back and they got separated by a crowd of biters. Then she's gonna stand at the window and scream for him to come get her out as he's high-tailing it across the yard... like what did you want him to do? He's damn near an acre away and you're standing in front of a giant picture window. She couldn't break that f*cking window or run or do something except look at her husband like a damsel in distress? Yeah, I ain't mad at him for how that played out. 

What I am mad at him about however, is the fact that this hussie somehow survived (he's seen her instincts, how did that not raise ssoooo many questions) and the first thing you do is kiss this bitch? Don't get me wrong, the love of your life is alive and that's great... but like... don't touch her yet. Run some tests. F*CKING SOMETHING. Nope. He just goes ahead and swaps spit and gets infected and ruins everyone's lives. Cool. 

Dick. And also... can I just say having never seen this movie, I still somehow knew Jeremy Renner wasn't gonna make it out alive? I was right... horrific death.

And finally, coming in hot... 28 Years Later. Because apparently, months mean f*cking nothing and we ain't dealing with them. 

The first thing I need you to know about this movie? So much dick. Like, I'm not trying to be that person... but it straight up looks like somebody's about to get clobbered over the head with it at one point. Just saying... that Alpha ain't playing f*cking games.

This one was the weirdest of them all... and I liked it but don't know if I liked it. You know what I mean? I liked the movie... but there were a bunch of cut-to parts and weird "vision" shit that just made no sense to me. And don't get me wrong, I love a good trippy scene... when it makes sense. And having Kick-Ass and Voldemort be survivors? That tracks.

My husband's biggest take away from these movies? He's mad at his gender for being so f*cking creepy. My biggest take away? I'm still not convinced this can't happen.

🐝I just want to be a beekeeper and live a peaceful f*cking life.🐝🐝

Y'all ever have one of those days where you think to yourself, "if I could guarantee the outcome, I'd be all in?" Yeah, that's me... only... not so much a day as an existential crisis. But whatever... I'm trying.

Dev and me live in Indy because of my job. Full stop... no other reason. Honestly, if it wasn't for my job, my ass would've bounced when I lost momma. Why? Because the city is not for me and I am woefully unhappy here. And yeah, I know there's nonsense and meanness no matter where you go... but I feel better about it in the country. I know how to handle it in the country. This city life? Pass. Too much, too many, too close, too soon, just TOO EXCESSIVE.

But here we sit... because financial stability. 

Don't get me wrong, I love my job. Sure, it's not the most glamorous position in the world, but it's mine and I've worked really hard to get where I am. There's only so far to climb in my company, but I feel like I have value as an employee and honestly, that's enough for me. I've never wanted fancy or to be "a boss bitch" so where I'm at is a good little spot for me. I know my job and not to toot my own horn, but I'm fairly efficient and know my shit... mostly. So yeah, I love my job and everything that it's given me. I never thought I would make the money I do in the position I'm in with the level of background and education I have.

However... if I could do my exact job remotely? From somewhere that doesn't require me to be in this city and try to build our lives here? From literally our peaceful little spot that we dream of? Yeah... I would love it even more. And the thing is... my job can be done remotely. We've tried it... succeeded in the short term... I can only imagine the level I could accomplish if I built a hub in our home and set everything from my office up. I truly believe I could not only do it, but do it just as well as what I do from here. BUT... I don't know if that would even be an option. It's never been done before in our company... and I don't know if it would be something they would be open to even discussing. I mean, sure it's never been done... but then again, my position didn't even exist until we built it into what we needed.

So yeah, that worries me because the stability I have at my job is unmatched by everything else I've encountered in my life. And while I would love to be the freespirit I feel on the inside, the fact remains that I've been working to support a family since I was fourteen years old and that part of my brain just won't shut off. You know, the... we'll have to start over, budgeting columns, what-ifs... all of it. It won't stop and it won't shut down and honestly it's running on a loop in my head driving me crazy.

However... if me and Dev keep talking and it comes down to it, I'll have a choice to make. I would try to establish the remote position first... try everything I could... but if that wasn't an option, I would have to choose. And the choice would be... stay in Indy for my career and chance that everything will be there for us until we get to retirement... or take the gamble and move my husband back to his family.

While it would be a hard decision to restart... it's also getting harder to justify my career over our happiness. Because lord knows my hubby is as unhappy here as I am. If he had his way, we would've been back in the sunshine state a few years ago.

And it's not like we haven't tried to build something meaningful and beautiful here. We've lived our lives and tried our best to be good to people. And while I would love to say we could show you the fruit of our labor, the fact of the matter is, no one gives a shit around here. My family essentially went on a tour telling people that Dev was gonna move me back to Florida and take me away as soon as we got married... he didn't... but they did stop inviting us to stuff, reaching out via the telephone, and continue with, "Katie changed."

Yeah... Katie changed... Katie lost her mom and had her entire world flipped on it's head and it's been nonstop ever since. Forgive me if I needed a breather from cookouts and holidays for a little bit. I wasn't trying to be excommunicated... I was trying to survive.

Ever since my brother moved out... I rarely hear from him. He made a big spiel about "not wanting to lose our relationship" when he moved out and I told him we were adults and perfectly capable of having a normal sibling relationship where he lived with his family and I lived with mine. I was apparently wrong about that... but not wrong about the fact my brother is resentful and petty about it. In the past month, I've reached out on four separate occasions just trying to catch up and maybe set up a time to hang out... he's rejected them all and contacted me once to tell me about our nephew having an accident and needing stitches. In fact, we haven't seen our nephew since my brother moved out. He works four minutes from our house and lives twenty minutes from us... but does he stop by? Nope. And while I would love to just swing by his house to say hi once in awhile, his living arrangement is different and not open for popups. Is he trying to punish me by not letting me see my nephew because I put my foot down and made him move out? I don't know... but either way... it feels real lonely on that front too.

And I get it... the rest of my family has their own families to worry about. I understand and I'm happy that they're happy... but clearly... I don't fit into the narrative. My aunts and uncles and cousins have their own children and grandchildren and my brother still has his father and his own child. Dev and me don't want kids... so I guess... we're just done?

Maybe I feel wrong about it, but it is how I feel. I'm not resentful or angry or sad about it, it's more of a clarity of the situation. And the truth is, I did in fact move to Indy for momma. I never would've chosen to come here on my own. I might not have stayed where I was, but I'm definitely not the same as my momma on that front. She was a city girl through and through... me?

Not so much.

Dev? Dev still has family that not only needs him but wants him... and me too. They want to include us in their everyday lives and holidays and they have our backs regardless. While I can say I have one or two people that have my back like that (ok... one and it's Dani) he has a list. And it's beautiful to see. I know he misses his family. Hell, I miss his family. Every time we go down there it feels right and my chest decompresses in a way it simply doesn't in the city.

His family up here? One-sided, not unlike mine. Everything was all fun and games when we were putting in all the effort, fronting money, driving the miles, and essentially doing it all. The minute we stopped putting forth 100% of the effort? That friendship fizzled and died out faster than a firecracker. Sure, he still texts his cousin, but the relationship we had with him and his family? Evaporated. All because we said enough was enough.

Hilariously enough, kind of like the situation with my brother.

The friendships we've tried to build have been no damn different.

I would love nothing more than to sell our house, move to that little ten acres in northern FL, build a hub to work remote, and start living our dream lives right this second.

But again... stability. And the unknown. 

It's hard to "go with the flow" or "take a chance" when literally all responsibility has been on your shoulders for as long as you can remember. And I know I don't have to live that life anymore... but old habits die hard and all that. I've had to start over so many times out of pure survival that I don't know how to kickstart something new without breaking mentally. It's frustrating and quite frankly, I hate that part of myself. I would love to make a decision strictly just because it's what I want and let the chips fall where they may and know everything will work out in the end. Except... I'm not built like that. I want to be... but conditioning has a stronghold that's hard as f*ck to fight.

You know, I always had this joke once I got the job I have now that I'm here until I'm either "fired or retired." But, I don't think I ever really thought it through for what it was. They've recently increased the retirement age from 65 to 67. Let's be real, Social Security won't exist by the time it's my turn and the fact they want people to quite literally work their asses off until they're essentially in the nursing home is f*cking laughable. Early retirement is at least 55... probably soon to increase... and even then there are so many penalties and fees. There's literally no such thing as working to an end goal anymore. People just want to take and take and we're forced to keep giving if we want to keep up. It's f*cking exhausting.

I say that to say... that means I have AT LEAST another twenty to thirty(ish because a few more than that) years to go before I can even think about retiring. Which means, if we wait until retirement to build the life and dream we want, we may very well be too old or dead to enjoy it by then. Not to be morbid... but the world is crazy these days and our luck is horseshit.

I want to continue my job until it's time to lay it down... but I don't honestly believe I have another twenty to thirty or more years left where we are. Even if I did, why would we want to build somewhere we're miserable and wait to be surrounded by all we want until then?

You know, that whole fairy godmother with the sprinkles thing I've been trying to manifest for the last couple of months would come in real handy right about now. It would be nice to be able to make a decision in life strictly based on happiness and want not finances and turmoil.

It's out there. It's on our minds and in our conversations and I would be lying if I said I wasn't going crazy thinking everything through a million times. I keep waiting for something to give or change or I don't know what, but I know sooner or later I'm gonna have to choose. Not like "CHOOSE" but choose, because something's gotta give and we can't keep being miserable.

He made a comment the other day when we were talking... and while I know he didn't mean it in a bad way... I felt the honesty in it and it hit me in the chest. He was trying to tell me how he feels and said he wanted to spend time with his parents while he still could. And... I get that. My parents are gone. My one sibling could care less. I haven't seen my nephew in over a year. Lost my grandparents years ago. Dev still has three parents, two grandparents, three siblings (four if you count his friend that may as well be my third BIL), and a slew of nieces and nephews. All of whom would give anything for their boy to come back to his roots.

While my roots are planted in Tennessee... I have no desire to go back there. I want to be surrounded by familiar but new. Comfort but depth.

Our fifth wedding anniversary is next month. Five years of building and trying and doing and loving. I wouldn't trade it for anything, but I do often think about the next anniversary... and the next... because I want us to be as happy together as possible, but is it possible to be your happiest self when you're miserable with your surroundings? I don't know. I would like to believe I'm enough, but that's not really fair to my husband. Sure, I may be enough... but should I be? When he has the option of so much more? He could be surrounded by people and places that are good for his soul.

And I could learn to be whomever I've always wanted to be. No pressure or restrictions or expectations. Just me with my husband and babies on a little farm, tending to bees, growing plants. I could learn all the things I've always wanted to and try and fail and succeed and grow and be at peace.

What I want: build a homestead, bake bread, grow plants, tend to bees, play with my pups, have early mornings on the porch with my husband, spend time with family, go to events, cook holiday meals, run through the woods with Dev on my heels... peace. Stability. Happiness. Tranquility. To be able to exist and just be still. Just be me.

What I need: a miracle.

I don't know where the future will take us. I don't know where I'll be this time next year. I don't know if I'll be sitting right here in thirty years or if I'll get hit by a meteor by my next birthday.

What I do know is one day soon I'm gonna have some decisions to make and whether good, bad or ugly, the questions will come knockin' whether I'm ready for them or not. Why? Because mental health is no joke and mine is patchy at best. And honestly? Seeing my husband so depressed is too much. It's devastating and makes me want to cry on the regular. He says he's good, but he forgets that I know him and I see it. I don't know how he doesn't resent me (he assures me he doesn't), because I would resent me. I mean, he's literally only here because of me and I'm literally only here because of my career.

Dun dun dun.

I know we'll probably give it until the beginning of the year and reevaluate. So between now and then, if the universe could help me out and sprinkle some of that goodness down, that would be greatly appreciated.

🌻I just grow sunshine in the backyard.🌻🌻And other ramblings.

Life is hectic. And crazy. And exasperating. And expensive. And hard. And overwhelming.

Life is beautiful. And fun. And full. And happy. And wild. And exquisite.

And we're all just along for the ride and hoping for the best. I've never wanted a big life. There's nothing in my personality that screams boss bitch in a Mcmansion with fourteen spoiled children. Never wanted it.

What I have always wanted was a small life. A happy life... stability. And to spend it with someone who chooses me first... every single time... no hesitation.

I found my person... and I'm so lucky and grateful for it.

Our life... while chaotic and hard at times... is ours and we're trying our best. Neither of us have ever wanted big. We've just wanted safe... and ours... and each other.

BUT... if y'all got a spare fairy godmother out there floating around, we'll take one of those too. You know what they say... manifestation and shit.

This weekend was... different. Any weekend I get to spend all the time with my hubby is amazing... but this weekend was weird for us. I don't know why. Probably because we had company on Saturday and then it stormed all day. And then Sunday morning the power company blew our transponder and we didn't have power for seven hours.

So... we did a load of clothes at Bonehead's and hung out. But Dev was sick... so home we went... to dead ass quiet. There was also an oil change in there for Trudy. And our pups went to Bonehead's with us and hung out with the babies... Sparkles loves heights...Steve doesn't do down the stairs. It was hilarious and adorable.

On the plus side? Dev got his tray, fake skin, and new ink. And I got a Tymo. Could we afford it? Probably not. Am I waiting for a miracle to pull us out of this funk and set us into my fantasy? Perhaps. #wishfulthinking

My cup plant though? Thriving and wreaking havoc. I think it might be a bit roid-raged out on motor oil... TBD.

Whose f*cking roads are you talking about again?!??!

I seen a recent study... survey... whatever you want to call it.

There was an article that claimed Indiana has some of the best roads, if not THE best roads in the US. And as someone who lives in and traverses the Indy roads on the daily... on behalf of our city (and most of the state) I call bullshit.

And if you don't believe me... I got receipts.

Last year when we still had Doug Judy... had to buy five tires in five months. That doesn't include the patches.

This year? With four months to go?

In June... Bonehead patched my tire for me.

Last month... had to have Trudy's front tire replaced completely because of a hole in the sidewall.

And just this week... me AND Dani had to have our tires replaced. My front passenger side. Her rear passenger side.

So... this whole best roads in the country bullshit you're trying to sell? We ain't f*cking buying.

Dev and me travel ALOT... lots of states... lots of highways and county roads.

Indiana? F*cked. Ohio? F*cked. Michigan? Amazing... after the first couple of minutes from point of entry. Y'all keep doing you! Tennessee? F*cked. Kentucky? Yee-F*cking-Haw kinda f*cked. Georgia? Pretty good. Alabama? F*cked. Florida? North is fantastic... once you start getting midways? F*cked.

The audacity of these folks to even pretend these roads aren't Jacked to Jesus and we're all just doing the best we can. If they're so fantastic, then y'all pay for all these tire problems... cause shit be expensive!

That's gotta be what heaven looks like.

Dev and me travel... a lot. Whether we're driving to another state to visit family or we drive out of the city to get a little peace... either way... we're driving.

Spending so much time in a car is both rewarding and a pain in the ass. Literally and figuratively. Sure, we have to travel to do and get the things we want, but if it wasn't for the fact I get to hang out with my best friend/soulmate... I would riot.

Why? Because while Trudy Judy is a comfy little Bronco... you can only be so comfy for so long with a bony ass. I said what I said.

One of the bonuses for these wide ranging trips though... Dev and me talk about the most random shit. We see some of the most beautiful views. We spend an insane amount of time together.

Give me all of that for the rest of my life.

Friday was one of our travel trips. I got off work a tad early and we left the house around 2:30 or so... and didn't get home until midnight. Because that's how we roll. 

An interesting trip... complete with torrential downpours... an allergic reaction to ants for poor little Steve... a piece of a semi flew off and hit our Bronco (and straight up looked like a bullet ricocheted off our windshield)... and a situation where an asshole van in front of us made all of us merge onto the highway going 27 mph.

Side note: If anybody has any good news... or vibes... or juju... anything like that... we're in the market and will take it. We could use some positivity in life right now.

The positive spin though? Well... besides getting to be together and accomplishing what we wanted to. 

This view. When the skies open up and things feel a little less heavy and a little more clear for a few minutes. And it reminds you what's important. And what's important to me? I had it all right there in the car with me.

I thought we all agreed that 2025 wasn't gonna be like that.

And now here we are watching it be like that. Ugh. This year has been a rough one and doesn't seem to be letting up on any level any time soon. We're having a rough go as humanity right now (at least, that's what it feels like?).

Then to top it all off... the audacity of the universe to take the Prince of Darkness. F*cking rude.

I was never as proud as the day the internet deemed Ozzy my "celebrity twin." I grew up on Ozzy... his music... his reality show... his cameos... his legend.

And now? I'm sad... right along with the rest of the world who loves him or his music. RIP, big guy. #SHAROOONNNN

You make my little heart happy.💜💜💜

(Side note: We got back from FL 6/29 and my FIL had surgery yesterday... but I have not had the mental strength to deal with that little catchup... so... another day perhaps. Today though? Things that make my heart smile).

My husband is very good at showing he appreciates me... both in our every day lives and when it comes to the level at which he is attracted to me.

He doesn't just tell me I'm beautiful... he shows me he thinks I'm beautiful from the inside out every single day. I'm lucky... and grateful.

He's a cheeky little shit... and as charming as you could get. Dude has been talking me into his crazy and out of my panties for years.

But every now and then... he pulls a new little compliment out the bag and it throws me and makes me blush. Most recently?

As I was walking out the door for work earlier this week... 6:30 in the morning... hair askew... weariness creeping in... he looked me up and down... cocked his eyebrow... smiled... and said... you look like you're ready to go fight a bitch today.

And honestly? I prefer that over beautiful. #ProjectBadass

Our resilient little troopers.💚💜💚💜

Like I said earlier... life be crazy. And with the craziness that is our lives and the fact we've been in Florida going on two weeks... my stress? My hubby's stress? Astronomical. Our faces are breaking out... our gut health is ridiculous... and honestly? Between his heart condition and my nervous twitches, let's just say... we've looked and felt better.

But, you know who never fails to be the best of the best and make everything better? Our furbabies.

Since we've been here, Sparkles has run this property to his little hearts content. He's usually my sleepy/napping boy, but five acres in the Florida heat? He's in heaven. Watching him gallop and flop around? Good for my soul. Steve has embraced her inner-Tuwanda! (she has a swollen ankle that we're monitoring and thankfully, is going down and ripped off two toenails) and has been going a mile a minute. 

Are they confused and unsure about what's going on? Yep. Do they let it bother them? Nope... as long as they still get babied and snacks. Lots of snacks. They're insane and all over the place and somehow always the calm to our storm. Having a bad day? Cuddle your baby.

Those other mamas are right... it really is the best medicine. Nothing like it.

Life is looking a little crazy right now.

Let me start this by saying... I thought we all agreed that 2025 was going to be a better time. Like... just in general and away from all the tomfuckery that has managed to invade our lives the last... however long it's been. Are we all stuck in some crazy fever dream right now?

I digress. Because if not... well... it's been a long couple of weeks.

Dev and me have been in Florida for over a week now. And while that may sound like vacation fun for most, let me assure you, if this is your idea of a vacation, neither of us EVER want to go on vacation with any of you. NEVER EVER.

A few weeks ago, Dev's daddy had to be rushed to the ER. After a week in the hospital, he was diagnosed with pancreatitis, told he had a pocket of fluid above his pancreas/pushing on the back wall of his stomach, and needed his gallbladder removed. He was sent home to "manage the inflammation" until his doctor returned from vacation. 

Cut to the Friday before last...I get a call at work in the afternoon from Dev telling me his daddy's friend is taking him back to the ER because he's in so much pain. So I immediately call my boss, pack everything I need to work remote, and headed to the house. We loaded up the car and our babies and to Florida we came. It takes us approximately thirteen hours to make it to the part of Florida we need to be. Luckily... this isn't exactly our first f*cking rodeo.

Eleven hours after making it to the ER waiting room, my FIL was finally admitted... and he's been there ever since. I'm not usually one to complain about healthcare. I've worked it... I've lived it... I understand it... I KNOW things can only move so fast and you can only do so much.

But when I tell you this has to be the most frustrating hospital experience of my entire life, I'm not exaggerating. I dealt with a lot of crazy shit when it came to Momma's health... A LOT. But this? Come the f*ck on. He was in the hospital from Friday afternoon (admitted Saturday morning) and they literally did no testing on him until Wednesday. Which is when they did the CT scan... and determined the fluid pocket hadn't gotten better under their "supervision"... it had actually gotten worse... and there were two.

You know what that means? That means his Thursday gallbladder removal was cancelled, and a Friday endoscopy with drainage was scheduled. Should be fine, right? Cool... it happened... they drained, put a stint, had a look around. Cool. Informed us they had to go in and do it again on Monday. Ok... but they don't know if or when they'll be taking his gallbladder. Why? Because they want to see if the inflammation can be managed. You mean the inflammation that had increased by six because this wasn't handled three weeks ago? And then what?

Don't know. We've had three doctors... doctors... not nurses, techs, administrators, case managers, no... DOCTORS tell us THREE different things and while they all start the conversation with "I've conferred with my team of fellow doctors" not a damn one of them seems to have EVER talked with the other two. They're confused, unfocused, and quite frankly, I don't understand how my FIL thinks they're so fantastic when literally the ball has been dropped at every opportunity presented.

He gets a new tray each time there's a meal because they can't agree on which diet he should be on... he was told to tell them as soon as as he feels pressure in his spine because they need to manage his pain for the inflammation... and then proceed to get lost in route to their medcart. And before people get butthurt, YES, I know nursing is a stressful and strenuous job and things happen out of your control. Multiple patients, one of you. I get it and I empathize. You can't drop everything for one person and you're not at their beck and call. I get it. However, when your patient has strict instructions and you leave their room and say "I'll grab that and be right back" and then I have to track you down over two hours later because at this point he's in fetal position pain, that's a f*cking problem. I shouldn't have to find a completely different nurse, ask where she is, get the response "I have no clue where she is" and tell them to find her before I throw a temper tantrum level hissy fit that would make my ancestors raise up and be proud of my level of petty before they assist him and do what the orders say.

COME ON. 

Unless you are working the triage unit of the ER... why the f*ck are you not on your own floor taking care of the patients assigned to you?

I didn't pull this shit out of my hat... they're your rules and guidelines and you're not even f*cking following them? Over two hours later? If your time management skills are that shit, perhaps you should find a new career. This one? Not for you. And I say that holding alot of love for nurses in my heart... this isn't an attack on all nursing. This is calling out one situation that repeated itself more than once and they still can't manage to get a handle on it. 

The entire thing is frustrating because they seem as confused and unsure as the rest of us. Hey guys, it's literally y'alls thing to have a plan. That's the whole reason he came here. For the third time. With pancreatitis. That still hasn't been handled. Because it keeps getting put off. And no one can seem to agree on a f*cking game plan.

Fun fact: this is the third time he's been admitted to this exact hospital for pancreatitis (the first time was March 2020).

Fun times. Hopefully, we'll find out something after the second endoscopy/drainage tomorrow, but with this team of doctors and staff? I'm not holding my f*cking breath. Mostly because I don't trust a damn one of them to know how to get me breathing again once I pass out.

My FIL? Pissed... irritable... angry... all the adjectives that encompass being rude and shit to my husband. And yeah, I understand he's frustrated and at his wit's end and he wants to go home, but f*ck, Dev is literally the ONLY person trying to help and he's getting a f*cking flogging for it. My BIL? Fantastic at being completely unhelpful and self-victimization. So... that's fun. Everybody else? Has an opinion or excuse but no justified reasoning.

And my husband? Bless his sweet, big, amazing heart. He's trying his best and doing all he can. We've been to the hospital everyday to visit, get updates, and cleaned the house inside and out. Cleared land, cut trees, kept the pups on their schedule. And all he wants is to do all he can to help get his dad better... he's not asking for praise or anything else... but not making his life more difficult by fighting, arguing and treating him like shit would be much appreciated. He didn't put anybody in this situation, and he 's doing all he can to help, and somehow he's the bad guy?

Yeah... I'm f*cking over that. My husband has a heart condition and I can't in good conscience let his mental and physical health be determined by shitheads who want to act like children. So... something has to give. Or, I'm going to have to make it give.

Thinking maybe we'll just load up our babies and disappear into the mountains never to be seen or heard from again by any person we've ever come into contact with throughout life.

TBD.

Decluttering our house has got to help declutter my mind... RIGHT?!!?!😬

You ever have one of those days where you're tired of looking at everything around you and you just KNOW it's time for you to change some shit? Happened to me... and Dev couldn't be happier with this little manic moment of mine.

I'm a hoarder. Like... not a I have thirteen flat cats and thirty-six dirty diapers hanging out in a drawer or box somewhere kind of hoarder... but I collect A BUNCH of shit. Clothes, figurines, knick-knacks, photos, dishes. You name it, I probably collect it in some form or another. And I don't set out to have these collections... nor do I only collect certain types of these things.

NO. I have just accumulated all this shit over the years and throughout my life... and from other peoples lives (I was raised on hand-me-downs and still love them to this day)... and I have a real problem letting go of shit once I have it.

What if I need it? What if it's important? What if it's sentimental? What if it belonged to someone I loved at some point? What if someone brings it up and needs it even though it's been hanging out in my shed for like thirty years? What. What. What. If. If. If.

UUUUGGGGGHHHHHH. 

Anybody who says you can't see the state of your mental health by that which is around you... is a f*cking psychopath.

We finally started cleaning out our sheds MONTHS ago but hit a lull because your girl be a real Debbie-Downer when I lose all motivation. Seriously, I always start off with good intentions but I end up stumbling over my own feet. Dev says I just have to do things in my own time... and lucky for me... he has no problem hanging out for however long it takes me to get to that point. Why just hanging out? Because I'll have a nervous breakdown if I just come home one day and everything is different. The man is a wizard at gauging my mental state.

Unfortunately, my husband has done all he can do by way of managing the clusterf*ck that has been created by yours truly, so some changes had to be made. Because you can only have so much shit before you have a breakdown... or at least... I'm going with that.

I've touched on the subject multiple times before... but when we lost Momma, we kind of just packed everything away because I couldn't fathom dealing with it. Over the years (mostly in the last year), we've gone through the shed but we never really went through the house and the shed and the garage and ALL of it. Moved things back and forth... debated and soul searched... but the majority remained as it was.

And honestly? I'm tired. I'm tired of having a bunch of shit that doesn't feel like ours. And it needs to be GONE. Like... buh-bye! 

So... we started decluttering. Like real deep down, soul searching, move shit out with a two-wheeler, throw away things that are there just to exist, no judgment if you want to get rid of it decluttering. And it felt GOOD.

The deep freezer that was way too big and broken? Dev beasted that bitch right out the door to our back alley and a scrapper hauled it off... along with that broken dryer on the back porch... and that old stove in the garage. All at once... years of chaos... hauled away. Made his day too. Two birds, one heavy ass debilitating stone.

Clothes that no longer fit my body or life... two Contractor bags later... POOF. Gone are the mornings of confusion and irritation trying to rifle through clothes and find something presentable to wear to work... and here are the mornings standing in irritation because no matter what I pick it'll fit but its still early as f*ck in the morning o'clock. And sure... now I need new pants in all areas... but I at least know the ones I have hanging out fit... ish.

And yeah... now we've hit a bit of a lull and our house is a bit chaotic... BUT it's our kind of chaotic and it's a process. As soon as a little of that oomph gets back in us... we'll do another room... and then another... until everything from top to bottom has been gone through and decluttered and deep cleaned. 

We're doing it all on our time... ok FINE my time... and I'm not letting any pressure or expectations get to me. Luckily, we both literally WANT to live in the house of our dreams... no matter how weird it may be... if we think of it and think it's cool... IT EXISTS. By the time we're done... we're only gonna have OUR stuff and a home that feels like just us. 

Because two people make a whole ass family... but we have furbabies... so we're a little more special.

💙My Uncle Wayne was a great man and I will truly miss him.💙💙

My Uncle Wayne was a good man... a fair man. Really... kind of a legend. Seriously, ask anyone that knew him well. He hasn't been in our industry for going on thirty years and we still have people ask about him to this day. That's how amazing and completely memorable he was. He was one of those men that even when you know death comes for everyone eventually, you kind of thought he might avoid it. At least, I kind of did. 

He always seemed so much bigger in life than what I could ever imagine. I've been blessed enough throughout my life that I got to spend time with him... from a child whose uncle made her dreams come true by showing up Christmas Eve with a Barbie dreamhouse... to a preteen who ate fried fish with sunburnt cheeks... to a teenager making his drinks and serving his supper... to an adult when I got to take my husband to his house and just visit and be. There are so many things I want to say and so many feelings I feel... but I don't know how to get them all out at once. Like with most things, I would think this is something I deal with bit by bit. Piece by piece. And manic cleaning and decluttering one step after the other.

I'm going to miss Uncle Wayne. In so many ways. I'm going to miss our random phone calls and how no matter what, he always had some advice and what felt like, my back. I truly hope he's now at peace and the people who were there at the end for their own selfishness, reap what they sow. I hope he can rest easy knowing he's reunited in spirit with Aunt Linda and the girls. And honestly? I hope he's proud of what he left behind. A life well lived and a legacy to rival that of anyone you come across. And maybe, just maybe, a little of me too. Because he was the kind of man you wanted to make proud. And I hope I do.

Harold Wayne Fullen, 79, of Astor Florida passed away on May 20, 2025. He was a loving son, husband, brother and friend. If help was needed, Wayne was there to offer a hand and an encouraging word.

Wayne was born in Clinchco, Virginia on November 29, 1945, to Charlie and Rebecca “Lucile” Fullen. The Fullens then relocated to Indianapolis, Indiana during Wayne’s childhood.

At the young age of 17 in 1962, Wayne joined the United States Marine Corps. He remained on active duty until August of 1965 as an MP whereupon he returned to Indianapolis to his family and friends.

On March 12, 1966, Wayne was married to Linda Lou (Blankenship) Fullen in Indianapolis, Indiana. They remained in Indiana until 2014 when they relocated to Astor, Florida. Wayne and Linda had 2 dogs, Leelee and Tina, who were their 4-legged children. Leelee and Tina were very well-loved. Wayne and Linda remained happily married until Linda’s passing in June of 2019.

Wayne was a member of the Scottish Rite, Northern Masonic Jurisdiction, 32° Freemasons and the Murat Shriners since 1974.

Wayne was a founding member of Superior Carpet Installers, Inc. in 1966 and later became owner and president of the company. Wayne will be remembered by many in the flooring industry for his hard work, grit and determination as well as his savvy business sense. He remained in control of the company until 1996 when he sold the company to the employees by creating an ESOP. Wayne then retired in 1998 after 32 years of owning and operating Superior Carpet Installers, Inc.

Wayne was an avid bass fisherman for many, many years. When relocating to Astor, Florida, Wayne and Linda lived on the St. John’s River where Wayne enjoyed fishing and boating for leisure. He is well known to all for this fishing – catching the fish and also hosting frequent fish fries to share his bounty with family and friends alike.

Wayne is preceded in death by his wife, his parents, brother Mitchell “Mickey” Fullen, brother James Fullen, brother Bobby Fullen, sister Patricia “Patty” Fullen and sister Peggy Austin. He leaves behind brother Russell “Rusty” Fullen, many nieces and nephews as well as many more great nieces and great nephews.

Wayne has requested that no service be held. In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to the Murat Shriners at https://www.muratshriners.com/jacoby.

🎉Our baby girls first spin around the sun was a threefer.🎉🎉

Today is what we in the world (and by world... I mean at the very least me and my hubby) refer to as a threefer. As in... three holidays in one day. 

Steve Irwin Glissons first birthday.
Easter Sunday.
420.

And sure... 420 is more "holidaze" than holidays but lots of people celebrate it and it counts! Mostly because my baby deserves a threefer instead of a twofer. 

I digress... and get to spend a four day weekend with my babies. Since Dev and me aren't going on any far vacations this year (at least... not in the plans) we decided I would just use vacation days to take long weekends and we would do things around the house or whatever it is we wanted.

This weekend for example... I took off Monday and Tuesday so I could have an extended weekend for Steve's birthday celebration. And sure, it happened to fall on a holiday weekend, but honestly? The traffic yesterday wasn't difficult (after we had to revise our 5AM plan to an 11AM plan... effin Seven Brew) and since we got all errands done between yesterday and this morning... we're home free to chillax and do nothing and anything we want for the next two days. 

And what we want is to spend all the time in the world with our babies and each other. It's a good life.

We're not big on Easter... we both used to celebrate as kids... and Lord knows we love those Reese Easter bunnies... but as far as a celebration for it? Nah. It's not really our thing... in fact, we're strange about alot of holidays. 

Who said you can't live however you want in whatever way you want?

With all that said... LOOK AT OUR BABY!! She's big and loud and funny and such a cuddlebug. Full of love and ornery and definitely the apple of her Bub's eye. (Although Sparkles will never admit it... he LOVES his little sister to the moon and back... she's alot... but she's his alot). I love the snuggles she gives me in the morning and the way her back hair stands when she's overzealous. I never thought I'd be a girl mom... but I gotta say... she's my little demon princess. And don't even get me started on how obsessed her daddy is with her.  All three of us adore the shit out of her and she EATS IT UP.

Such a little ham and cheese croissant she is. I could just eat her up.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STEVE IRWIN!! We love you and can't wait to spend the next fifty birthdays together as a family.

And in case you're wondering, yes... our family will totally have some cake to celebrate the holiday weekend and wish you and your families the best. And by cake... I mean donuts... because Steve wanted donuts and it's her birthday!

🤒🤢🤒Wtf even was that madness?!!?!🤒🤒🤢Sickness?!!?!🤢🤒

Hey y'all... it feels very much like I'm coming back into the land of the living. Why? Because I had an illness that kept me down for an entire f*cking week. Not exaggerating... an entire week.

I'm not even sure what it was if I'm being honest. All I know is me and Dev were sicker than I've ever been. Seriously, I haven't been that sick for that long in my entire adult life. I contracted and managed bronchitis quicker than this shit. If I had to describe it, it would have to be the worst flu I've ever seen.

Even Covid didn't feel that terrible. Then again... this could have been Covid and neither of us would really know? Mine started last Sunday (3/16) evening. Everything was fine... and then... BAM... not fine. 

I had a fever from Sunday evening until early Thursday morning. Couldn't get it to break at first and then couldn't get it to stay gone more than an hour at a time. Cold sweats, a horrible cough (that's lingering, btw), nausea, diarrhea... and the god-awfulest body aches I've ever experienced. At one point my spine hurt so bad I thought it was going to come through the skin of my back. Everything hurt and felt terrible. I laid in our bed in the fetal position, on top of a heated blanket, under a wool blanket, wearing flannel pants and sweatshirt, crowded by our pups and I was FREEZING. And in a bunch of pain.

Dev was about 24 hours behind me... but his hit with the same force. It was truly awful. I missed Mon-Thurs at work (something I really hate f*cking doing), and while I came in and worked Friday, I'm not sure how I made it. Sheer will? Stubbornness? Something.

All of last week is blended into a Nyquil heavy fever dream of sorts for me. I still don't feel 100%, but I mean COME ON we got shit to do. We're mostly on the mend... I think. Just about five pounds lighter (wasn't trying to lose weight) and a little battered and fragile. Super frail, actually. But... still kicking it. Because resilient. And contrary. 

But mostly, wish me luck. Because your girl is forreal trying over here. (And her hubby is feeling better too).

It's what happens when you give a thirty-five year old toddler a debit card.

You ever go to the grocery store with your husband and get super confused when the cashier assumes you have babies? No? 

Happened to me.

Sunday was a normal weekend day for us... tried to get a little extra sleep and then ran some errands. We move slow on Sundays... it's the only day we try to keep for just us. It usually works out... but not always. When it does though, we slow move and spend the day as little goblins doing whatever it is we want... as long as it's slow going.

Last week was crazy and literally the only thing I wanted was... shrimp. Like, could not think of anything else, was craving it, had to have it. The problem though? Every single time I eat seafood in the Midwest, I get food poisoning.

Every. Single. Time.

I honestly don't know if I have an allergy to seafood... if there's something wrong with Midwest seafood (being in a landlocked state doesn't feel water worthy?)... if I'm just dramatic and my body is like let's be a little extra and make you seem like an attention seeker... honestly, your guess is as good as mine at this point. 

The fact is though, it happens. Every time. 

Because of this turn of events (I swear, you vomit on a man on four separate occasions *eye roll*)... my husband has "put his foot down" and has forbidden me to eat seafood unless we're in a "water state."

So there we were... buying seafood in a state that isn't known for its water critters (clearly, that foot was dislodged... I love my hubby will protest but still cook for me so my little heart can have whatever it desires), but we have to go to the big grocery store because it has way fresher food options than... our regular... well... our bit of... sketch grocery store.

We get everything we need... get the things we don't need but got anyways... and off to checkout we go.

And while we were checking out, the cashier rang about five or six items through... stopped... looked me dead ass in the eye and asked, "Oh! Did you need baby formula?" The confusion must have showed on my face... but I went with a simple, "no, but thank you." 

She followed that up with... "Well, did you know we moved it? Are you sure you don't need any, they resupplied this morning and I can show you right where it is?"

Again, I answered, "no?" But, I had to frame it as a question because she seemed so confident I needed it that for a second I thought, shit, did I forget my baby formula? And then I was like, shit Katie... you don't have babies, quit buying unnecessary shit.

This went back and forth a few more times before I finally told her that we had babies at home, but they were the furry kind and not the human kind. SHE LOOKED AT ME LIKE I WAS CRAZY.

What was my husband doing the whole time? Fucking laughing... and probably thinking we needed to pick up Pepto for the shrimp escapade.

Once we walked out of the store... with me still being super confused... Dev finally asked if I knew why that woman had so many baby questions for me. I told him no but I thought it was super weird and random. 

He proceeded to chuckle and then informed me of some of our purchases that day... two kiddie plates (hey! I needed new dishes and these have edges for my snacks!)... a double pack of baby wipes (in all fairness, the pandemic broke me, dude!)... a jumbo box of fruit snacks (they're for everybody!)... and on the list went until I realized that yes, it did in fact look like the kids were at Nana's and we were making a family grocery run.

MY BAD. But like... those fruit snacks are SO good.

🎉🎉Let's let all the weekends be like that one.🎉👽👽

I turned thirty-five last Thursday, Valentines Day was on Friday, and Dev and me are adults... so we celebrated both on Saturday. In fact, his exact words to me were:

"I'm gonna give you extra loving for the next three days and we'll celebrate right on Saturday." 

Honestly, how was I supposed to pass up on a deal that good? Besides, he always treats me like a little princess (and yes, I know how gross that sounds to some of you, but truly from the bottom of my heart, SHOVE IT), so even extra? My needy ass couldn't wait.

(Honestly though, I'm truly always living it while it's happening and forget to take pictures... and then always wish I had pictures).

We spent Thursday through Sunday hanging out, spending time together, and tattooing. On Saturday, Dev loaded me and him in the car (it's weird traveling anywhere without our pups... no matter the distance) and took me to Uranus.

That's right... Uranus.
As in... Uranus Fudge Factory (Anderson, IN).

And when I say this place was made for us... BRO. Between the amazing treats, the fact it's not five million dollars, and ALL the hilarious innuendos, I was sold. We hung out, shopped, got to see amazing art/randomness... even had icecream. We had so much fun and got the most hilarious sweatshirts.

Learned they sell fudge by the 1/4 pound... truffles by the ball (can I handle some balls for you today? HA!)... and mixed candy by the handfuls that you pick from. They had voodoo dolls and leaned hard into the alien theme. There's a variety of sweet treats but also you can get "real food" (ie: walking tacos, pretzels, hotdogs, etc.) at the same shop. 

There's even a spot for mini-golf when the season allows it. Dev and me had SO much fun. Seriously, I had a ball. And we cannot wait to go back. I'm sure it's not for everyone, but we've decided it's definitely for us... we'll be going back often (if possible)... and we want to take all our visiting family there pronto.

And we've decided that we can go back multiple times so we can... eat all the foods... play mini-golf... make crude jokes while surrounded by people who also like the crude jokes... and build a collection of sweatshirts... voodoo dolls... and marbles. Oh, and also just because we want to and we've decided it can be our thing now. Well, one of our things.

It truly was an awesome way to spend my birthday... Dev always makes me feel special like that. So an entire extended weekend dedicated to just me? Sold.

🖤Apparently things do and don't come with age.🖤🖤

I'll be thirty-five in a few days and I have to say... all that shit adults were talking when I was a kid makes alot more sense now.

Yes, when it rains it does in fact pour. My back hurts for no reason as well. And I too miss the grocery prices of my youth, because paying $102 for hamburger meat and a gallon of milk is ridiculous.

I have a bad hip now for no reason whatsoever... just woke up one morning and BOOM... bad hip. Did I sleep on it wrong? How fucking old do you have to be for that to happen? Did I sleepwalk a 5k? Also, if that happened... when did I get the willpower to actually complete a 5k? Did my pups get together and initiate me into Fight Club? Did I Soulja Boy too hard? Like, what happened?

Eyesight? Failing. And failing hard too, not a little blur or anything. No, like full on can't see shit except when I see three of the same thing that isn't even there type level of failing. Driving to work at 6 in the morning with an astigmatism in both eyes ain't for the weak, dude.

Where did all the vitamins in my body go by the way? I've been Vitamin D/Iron deficient since my early twenties and guess what? That shit don't improve naturally with age. I take vitamins and eat proteins and drink milk... and nothing. My body takes a look at those nutrients and is like PASS. And what's the one thing your body needs to thrive? Vitamins. Ugh. (And yes, I know it takes more than that and water is important and blah blah, let me be dramatic).

I've actually thinned out with age... not that I'm complaining about that. 

What I am complaining about though is the fact I spent the first thirty years of my life looking real Henry VIII and now I'm more on the Audrey Hepburn (in body type NOT glamour, beauty or talent) side of things and apparently there's health problems for both? Like... I was heavy and people were like CAREFUL because diabetes and heart disease but now I'm thin and people are like CAREFUL because osteoporosis and heart disease. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Apparently, all of us have weak ass hearts... looking real Grinch over here.

As a woman, they start telling you about all the things that will start going downhill faster than others: weight management, skin elasticity, wrinkles and fine lines, vitamin absorption, hair/skin/nail health depletes.

Like... it's not good enough I can barely walk and bare weight on my left side first thing in the morning but go ahead and make my hair fall out too? The fuck?

There's things you do to try and counteract some of this nonsense... I put vital proteins/collagen peptides in my coffee everyday. I started taking Mary Ruth's multivitamin yesterday. I use retinol and fancy lotion on my face and I moisturize with coconut oil like you wouldn't believe.

Honestly, I don't know if any of it helps or if my MIL just managed to placebo me into thinking the shit I put in my coffee was gonna make me look killer, but either way, I'm rolling with it.

Why? Because with age might come alot of bullshit (and I do mean A LOT), but not all of it is bad.

I've never been more comfortable with my body than I am right now. Yes, even though we tend to close it for maintenance, it's still the best it's ever been... for me. No, I don't look like I used to and we all know I'm not getting any younger... BUT... I'm comfy. And I'm comfy because I'm just me.

I wear what I want, eat what I want, spend money on what I want, live like I want... and I get to do it all with the other half of me. Because we all know Dev just keeps getting better and better with age.

My husband ages like whiskey and I age like fucking bread.

Seriously though, I would say the best thing about age is perspective. I know the things I've done and lived through... and I know there's still more to come. I've come to terms with not every single person liking me and I've realized that the only person my decisions should affect are me. If living my life to my happiest and most comfortable is affecting someone else that much in a negative way... they should probably get some help for that. Why? Because it's not my problem.

You know what is my problem though? This fucking hip. Kidding... mostly.

A we do what we want kind of weekend.🛻🌲💸😍

This weekend was... eventful. Actually, now that I think back on it, last week was INSANE for all of us. Not just Dev and me, but ALL of us. You, me, and probably the dude on the corner. Seriously, y'all have those weeks, right? Where you're super productive but also it feels like you have a million things to do?

Happened to me. To us. 

We decided to get a jumpstart on the weekend and paid our mortgage on Thursday after work. Smart, right? Would've been if I didn't also get a case of "fighting for my life" but whatever. I also got a little update on my cousin, Shanny, while we were out that way. She's having a second surgery on my birthday and another one in three-four months. Hopefully, everything goes ok with her and she's alright as can be. I should probably call her to check in on her and my uncle.

Even with my gut being an asshole (they were in a fight and yes... pun intended) we still managed to get in a WRTTMM Friday evening and were back home in time to get some rest and prepare for the day ahead.

Meanwhile... our pups were wylin out because that's what they do.

Saturday rolled around and Dev had a tattoo appointment up in Muncie. Like the true daddy he is... he made sure I got Mickey D's breakfast and coffee to fill me up before we made that trek. While it was an all day event, it was a good time and the piece turned out AMAZING. I'm so proud of Dev and the things he's accomplishing. Also... just to put it out there... being married to a tattoo artist? Fuckin hot. Being able to be tattooed in the comfort of my home by the sexiest man I know? Also hot.

His client was actually Macey's bio-dad and since Travis had a piece on her stepmom, we got to meet that side of their family. They were SO nice and he trains Malinois's for a living... so obviously he must be the dog whisperer because Sparkles was all up in his business. Seriously, my grumbly pup that doesn't like much of anyone... ok not true... he just doesn't like men... he's a real ladies man... was ALL OVER this dude. 

It was so amazing to see and actually made me a little emotional, because Sparkles has been real down since we lost Xur-Xur. Like, real down to the point of depression and we can't seem to pull him out of it. But after Saturday he seems a bit more like my old pup and it is without a doubt, more precious than I could describe.

We got home late from that appointment and successfully made our list of everything we needed to get off Amazon... and while the pups, Dev and me are now covered in all our areas... fuckin ouch, dude. Shit be spensive.

Sunday rolled around and wouldn't you know it... there was things to do. Luckily, it was minimal and we had everything done and were back at the house by 10:30AM. We headed out about 9:00AM so we could get Trudy her very FIRST oil change. She's officially almost 5,000 miles deep and it was that time. Technically, she had another like thirty miles left in her, but I'm trying to take care of her to the best of my abilities. Have I mentioned how much I love that truck? Because I do... we really do. Also... shout out to Jiffy Lube! They're not only open on Sundays... but that's where I took Doug Judy... and now Trudy. They had us in/out in like twenty minutes. Fuckin, G's.

After the oil change we filled Trudy up, picked up a few things from the grocery (this gal needed coffee, our pups needed food, and Dev needed burgers), had another Mickey D's breakfast run and hightailed it back to the house before church let out.

The rest of the day was spent hanging out and not doing anything... but I'm still somehow exhausted?

Also, now that Trudy is a bit broken in with a new oil change and a full tank? Pheesh. Fuck out of my way, because she is a BEAST.

So yeah... we had an incredibly busy weekend... we spent way more money than we intended... we're so tired you would think we haven't slept in three days... BUT it was so worth it and I had an amazing time.

I love spending all my time with my family and seeing them as happy as possible. Watching Dev do what he loves is incredible and I'm blessed to be able to share in that with him. The fact we all get to be together and can travel with him (most of the time) while he works is just an added bonus onto the ever-evolving amazingness that I call life.

And now... we start this work week over. It's all good, we're on a mission to be as chill as possible from here on out. The only things we have are my work schedule and Dev's appointments... other than that... home free!

Oh yeah... today is also Macey's birthday. So... HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MACEY-JO!!

We're definitely more Trikru than Skaikru.

On January 29, an American Airlines plane and Blackhawk helicopter collided. And I can't help but to think... January 29th must be a bad omen type of day. It shouldn't have to be said, but I'll say it anyways, I feel absolutely terrible for all these people.

Since then, it feels like I have seen NOTHING but news reports about plane crashes. 

We're a traveling family, but we do all driving because my hubby is scared of... well... flying in planes. I always thought it was a valid fear but now more so than before. Didn't think it was possible, but it is.

Apparently there hasn't been a major US plane crash since 2009... and now we're creeping the deep in 2025? The fuck?

Listen... I don't know if this means some kind of Terminator malfunction is happening and it's crashing planes from here on out until they (hopefully?) find the glitch or if it's because this one major plane crash happened and the media feels the need to tell us about all the crashes that have been happening the whole time.

Either way... super uncomfortable and not fucking on board with it, dude.

😬How they gonna do us millennials like that?😬

It's not good enough we haven't been able to drive behind a log truck in... well... our entire driving careers?!?!!

Ok... let's start over. Have y'all seen the new trailer for the newest Final Destination movie? Bloodlines? It's like the sixth Final Destination movie... which means these people have now spent an accumulated 555 minutes ruining my our fucking lives.

And don't get me wrong... just like every single person in my age group I fucking LOVE these movies and have watched all of them (especially the first two) MULTIPLE times. Maybe it's the 90s baby in me... but there's nothing quite like ole school Devon Sawa. (Speaking of Devon's... mine's gonna be SO mad when I end up shanghai'ing him into watching this shit).

I digress. (Also, RIP Tony Todd).

I haven't had to have a panic attack about one of these movies (ie: see a new trailer) in damn near fifteen years. That's a long ass time by any standard but the fact I was twenty-one (HUH?!) the last time one of these dropped blows my ever-lovin.

How many creatively f*cked ways are they gonna think to kill someone and how f*cking old am I again?

Anyways... I don't know what brought this to my attention (probably TikTok if I'm being honest)... but now it has my attention and I couldn't stop... so I watched the trailer.

2003... what did we love the most?

Well... we were coming up to or were already teenagers. So... driving, of course!

Final Destination: Cool! *insert traumatic highway scene here*

2025... what are millennials into the most?

Well... we're trying our best and not letting anyone tell us what to do. So... self expression!

Final Destination: Cool! *insert traumatic tattoo/piercing shop scene here*

What. The. Fuck.

The worst part? Not only am I gonna have to watch this shit because it's another Final Destination movie so DUH but also... y'all had to go and put Richard Harmon in it to guarantee my viewing experience. Knowing I couldn't resist seeing Murphy in a horror fest. Fucking rude.

Well played, Warner Bros. Well played.

Thirty-five be looking rough... and I'm not even there for another two weeks.

A real nice man came up to me and my husband at the CVS to invite us to his community benefit… trying to entice us with the promise of food and coats and warmth… because he assumed we were homeless. And honestly? Might go get us some ribs and taters come Sunday, I dunno.