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.

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.

Sometimes you do the things because literally no-one can stop you.

This past weekend was a good one. Dev and I loaded the pups up on Saturday and we went to hang out with Travis and Macey for a bit. While it is a long drive (1.5 hours one way), we usually have a good time and make the most of our little "road trip." Besides, our pups enjoy getting to go with us and since they're THE GOODEST BOYS on the planet, they reign supreme.

They also tried to talk me into letting Macey pierce my lip and that was a firm f*ck on somewhere from me. 

Then Dev and I talked about it and I told him I actually would like to try something like that, because it would be a drastic change without having to touch my hair (hair is always the first thing a woman changes when she's going through a phase, because that shit is the most dramatic and accessible... at least that's what I'm going with). 

I always said I wouldn't get a face piercing, because I had my nose done when I was nineteen, kept the ring in for two-three days and took it out because I hated it. 

I believe the words I used were, "I tried it and discovered I don't like having a f*cking bolt in my face." 

BUT I've learned in the last year or so that many things I've thought or felt my entire life are actually completely different and so, I've been experimenting with changes and different ways of doing things to see if it helps.

Don't let anybody tell you otherwise... mental health is important and you matter. Take care of yourself.

With these changes, I've been... I know this sounds a little hippish or something... trying to find who I am. I feel like I know who I am, but somehow I'm still discovering things about myself. I'm certainly not the person I thought I was and my mindset changes frequently. It's like a whole new world and I can just be 100% me.

Luckily, I also have a husband that not only adores the shit out of me, but encourages me in all things that could produce happiness. When I said I married my hype man, I wasn't joking. We talk to each other about absolutely everything (I don't care what anybody says, your spouse being your best friend is f*cking fantastic) and usually when I want to do/try/say/wear something different but have my reservations, he's always the one to remind me that I'm grown and I can be/say/do/have whatever it is I want. He's always going on about, "you're your own person and the most amazing one I know... you do whatever it is you want, sweetheart, and I got your back. 100%" He's the f*cking best.

What did I fantasize about my husband being like? Think Gomez Addams. 

So yes, when I mentioned I would like to try it but had doubts, he was all, you want one? We'll do it RIGHT. NOW.

Cut to fifteen minutes later and we were walking into a shop not too far from our house.

Thankfully, we didn't let his cousin do it. I decided that I'm a grown woman with a full time job... I'll pay a professional to stab me in the face. Thank you very much.

And here we are. A few days in and another hole in my face/body. It doesn't really hurt at all... it is however tender and irritating as shit. Not the ring itself, but the backing rubbing all up on my skin. I cannot wait to change this bitch to some form of hoop once it's healed a bit.

I'm not sure if I love it or hate it. I love how different I look (even if other people don't think so, I think so) but I hate how irritated my skin feels right now. Mostly, I'm just trying not to be a big ass whiny baby and suck it up and let this thing heal up. I think I'm really going to be into it though. You know, at the end of the line and such. TBD. *insert dramatic eye roll here*

Dev even put his former lip piercing back in. He had his done in his early twenties but hasn't worn it in years. Now? We fancy. 

I also feel like it's worth mentioning we got a bonsai tree as well. His name is Seth Green.

If they could keep the sociopaths at bay, that would be great.

Over the weekend, D and I had a movie/show/documentary marathon. Basically, we watched a bunch of random shit. There were some real good movies in there, but the one that blew our minds the most had to be the Netflix documentary: Our Father.

Have y'all heard about this yet? If not, go and watch it immediately and come back to discuss.

I'll wait...........

Ok, now that you're back and you've watched it, you agree with me, right? What. In. The. Actual. Fuck?!

After watching this documentary on Netflix, clearly, I am an expert in all things criminal justice right now. I have also decided I am an expert on this case in general (I'm not) and since I live in Indianapolis, we all know that means I can jump inside his crazy little mind and know what he was thinking.... right?!

No?! Fine.

The whole premise is basically this fertility doctor from Indianapolis inseminating multiple women with his own sperm and in turn reproducing over 94+ children (and counting!). He never told these women what he was doing and many of them were under the impression that he had used their actual husbands specimen. 

This went on for almost forty years with people believing they had their biological children and fathers together. And the only reason he was caught was because of that whole "23andme" ancestry thing that blows my mind. We've really come a long way with the whole identifying DNA situation.

It started with one and kind of snowballed from there. I can't tell you how horrible I feel for these people. These people were not only mislead (with the exception of the actual doctor), but they were taken advantage of and deceived. There's absolutely no way around that. The women, the children, and even the husbands. Because they're all victims.

I understand that these women wanted to have babies. I understand that when you have any kind of medical procedure performed there are risks and things are out of your hands. HOWEVER, are you really going to sit there and try to justify what this man did?

Not only did he manage to devastate ninety some odd families (I repeat NINETY SOMETHING), but also probably his own, right? His children technically have 94+ half siblings (not including each other) and could very well have been married to one of them. It's a small community and I very much doubt he was going to let someone know what he had done if his child had married another one. He really wanted to keep that shit on the downlow. So, he very well could've just stood by and let that happen. Then again, the way his family and the community rallied around him, it wouldn't be surprising if they're all absolutely fine with it and think he did nothing wrong. 

Because nothing says devotion quite like standing by someone even though they are morally and psychologically damaged.

I don't know if this doctor did this as some sort of sick experiment. I don't know if this doctor was trying to give women the families they so desired. I don't know if this doctor thought ahead. I don't know if this doctor read one too many Nazi doctrines or if he is the epitome of religious extremism. 

Honestly, I'm not so sure he thought about any of the repercussions to his decisions. By the looks of it and the reaction to the situation, I would go as far as to say no, he doesn't care what he has done. He simply wanted to be the best of the best and didn't care how many people he had to take advantage of or what lengths he had to go to.

Even if he was trying to "do something right" and help these women get pregnant, he did so in about the most disgusting way possible. These women had a choice to go to a medical professional to help with a problem. A doctor that they should have been able to trust and were assured by said doctor that everything was by the book.

WHAT FUCKING BOOK WAS HE USING?!

So yes, these women did have a choice when they decided to get artificially inseminated, but their choice was immediately taken from them under false pretenses. Some of these women were led to believe their husbands and themselves could conceive, they just needed "a little help." The doctor then disregarded the husband's specimen in favor of his own. Umm, what? You're saying that you did this, because you didn't have immediate access to donor specimens, but then you just disregard and throw out what you do have? And then you decide not to mention this to anyone and proceed to continuously lie to these people about a legitimate concern?

How is that NOT a crime? You can't force someone to have sex with you under false pretenses, but you can knowingly get them pregnant with your baby (without their consent- they have channels for this kind of thing so people can still have a choice about whom they procreate with) under the technicality of you being a fertility doctor? The fuck?

And if there's one thing I can't stand, it's someone using their religious beliefs to justify the horrible things that they have done and continue to do throughout their lives. I was raised in the holler. Dead ass center of the Bible belt. I can quote scripture and finish what someone is about to say before they even say it.

They kind of drill that into you as a child.

But, never once in my entire life have I met an actual "God-fearing man" that thinks it's ok to hurt those around him. Especially for his own greed or gain. And honestly, isn't that what this all comes down to? 

Strip away the emotional side of it (even though that's incredibly difficult to do) and just look at the facts. The fact is, this man had a reputation for being the absolute best. People flocked to him from miles around. Why? Because of his success rates and word of mouth. How did he come into these results? Well, we all know how he came into those results by now. 

By jerking off in a cup next door to his patients and then inserting it into them.
Fucking ew.
I hope he washed his hands.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying anything negative about anyone (except the doctor, I'm saying all the negative shit about him), but it seems to me that more wasn't done about this simply because people didn't know where to start and were afraid to stand up to a challenge.

People that are supposed to care and uphold our laws just ignored these people and once it was brought to their attention, kind of just went, "eh." 

Oh, you don't know how you would bring criminal charges against him for something like this, because it's unprecedented? Guess what? That has literally been the case for every single thing that someone's never been charged with before. That's how laws come to fruition. Or, at the very least, that's what they lead us to believe. I thought with where we were in the world, (excluding the whole Roe vs. Wade situation happening right now) that something like this couldn't happen without consequences.

I mean, we have literally emerged from the "Me Too" movement and for what? So a medical professional can insert his own specimen into a woman's body without her knowledge or consent and essentially be covered by the whole "technicality" of them wanting help with fertility? I swear, if I had a nickel for every time some dude got away with a horrendous crime against a woman on a technicality, I would be a very rich gal.

So yes, difficult and possibly a failure?
Absolutely.
Worth shooting the shot and maybe preventing something like this in the future and at least attempting to get some form of "justice" for the victims?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
Seriously, what is wrong with you people?

Be a fucking pioneer and use that fancy law degree or political position to do something worth while.

And once the children discovered this entirely fucked from the get-go situation, they began receiving threats and were harassed continuously about telling their story, but you want to talk about the media and how they investigate and use their sources to let people know? When a journalist was literally the only person that would listen to this story. They tried every form of government office they could and no one would even respond to them. Who listened?

A Fox 59 news journalist (Angela Ganote) and Dr. fucking Phil. How y'all feeling about that hill you're standing on now? 

Sorry, I just can't even get over how insane this whole situation and the response to it is.

Ok, this doctor did get two charges brought against him for lying on paperwork to the government, but that's it? And the first known child couldn't bring up anything "personal" in her testimony, but it was acceptable for people to write in letters to the judge defending this man and saying he's the best and should walk away? How is that not mixing personal with the judicial system? Also, you took his medical license and put him on probation? Dude, the man was already retired and living the cushy life that he afforded from his forty year deception of his patients. How is this justice and how are you still saying he's a good guy? How are people still defending him and others simply standing by?

To say that I'm feeling very uncomfortable as a woman would be an understatement. To say that I'm feeling extremely uncomfortable being a woman in Marion County knowing what someone can do and get away with and no one will even bother to listen or try to help? Worse. And I know it's not only happening (and happened in general) here, but when it's down the street from your house, it feels a whole other level of invasive.

I am not a lawyer. I am not a politician. I am not a genius. But, I do know when something is fucked up and this? This takes the race in this round.

These people could literally be dating or married to their half-sibling. Kids are growing up and could be in relationships with their cousins. There is an entire fallout of this that it doesn't feel like the system took into consideration. I mean, if you know you have an STD and sleep with someone without telling them and they get it, it's a crime. So, how is this not? These people have to live with this and they have absolutely no idea the repercussions that are going to continue for years upon generations to come. 

My heart goes out to these people involved. (NOT the doctor). I wish you all the best and I hope that people start using not only their common sense, but also their humanity and start doing something about this. Because this? This is unacceptable.

Fucking people, dude.

Apparently, I've been around longer than what I realized.

**D and I talking about random stuff standing in the kitchen**

D: “I was reading a thing that said red doesn’t hold in tattoos very well over a long time.”

Me: “My first tattoo still has the red in it like it always has.”

D: “When did you get it again?”

Me: “When I was thirteen so almost twenty yea-…..”

D: “Gonna finish that sentence?”

Me: “Nope.”

A shout out to my hubby on his birthday. Aging like fine wine and shit.

Happy Birthday baby, thank you for always being you and loving me. I love you.

Hey husband, I just wanted to give a quick thanks. To who? To you, silly.

Thank you for cuddling me whenever I'm freezing. Letting me lay my head on your shoulder to sleep when I finally give in. Always having my back no matter the circumstance and without question. Knowing exactly when I need to smile and making sure you do whatever it is you have to do to accomplish that. Never admitting how horrible my hair is when we first wake up in the mornings and disputing me when I say I'm chubby. 

Forever driving on our road trips to Florida.... even though we always say I'm going to.... but I don't.

Being protective, but never trying to take my independence. Believing in fairytales even when I don't and convincing me that they're still real. Succumbing to my fake cry face and giving tickle kisses on my neck. All the things that make you the man that makes me smile with every thought and laugh with every memory. 

Thank you for being you, loving me, and living this life together. I love you more than you'll ever know. #Cauliflower

Not to be dramatic or anything, but I'm going to ramble until it's break time.

I only work Monday through Wednesday this week and then I'm off Thursday through Sunday for Thanksgiving (I'm also solo in the office this week). To say that I'm excited for that prospect would be an understatement. I'm beyond excited. The thought of hanging out at my house with my hubby (when he's not working) and my pups makes me feel happy.

I mostly want to hibernate. You know, snuggle in with your loved ones and doing whatever it is you want to do. In my case, watching movies, cooking, baking, catching a buzz, doing some house chores at my own leisurely pace, drinking coffee and not wearing pants.

That's right. When D and I are home alone we like to Pooh Bear it. Well ok, mostly me, but you catch my drift.

I also think I'm going to be getting off early on Wednesday, so hopefully my hibernating can start early! If that's the case, D is either going to come home to find me bingeing horror movies, bingeing Yellowstone, or so engrossed into TikTok that I don't know what's happening in the world around me. Definitely one of those. 

It's all good though, because I usually find him so engrossed with COD that he doesn't have a clue what's happening around him either. So, it works out well for the both of us. Did I mention how much I adore my hubby? And also how much I like saying husband or hubby instead of boyfriend? Never thought I'd say that.

I realized the other day that I have officially upgraded from "borrowing my boyfriends hoodie" to "swiping my husbands Carhartt" and honestly, I feel like that's a real good flex for me. Kind of like my sweet spot.

We've also decided to do a nontraditional Thanksgiving dinner this year. Since it's just the two of us (and our furbabies), we've decided to forego the turkey and big dinner and instead have a slightly smaller dinner (but still large for us) of pot roast, taters, rolls, and sweet taters. It's still a larger meal than what we usually have and it's kind of special. We have talked about this kind of thing alot and we've decided that since it's just us and our babies that we will make our own traditions. We'll probably still do some of the things that we've done with our families over the years, but now, we'll do them together and in our own way.

Hence, the nontraditional meals and spending our days however we want to. We don't let other people tell us how to spend our time together and we do whatever makes us happy. He's my best friend and honestly, that's what I'm thankful for this year and all the years to come. So, if we could hurry up and get break time here so I can go home and take off my pants, that'd be great.

Happy Holidays!!

Call it the holler in me, but I don't trust it.

**5:30am**

D: "Wait until you feel the weather outside. It warmed up and it's nice."

**6:45am**

Me: *walks outside, feels the breeze, peers around suspiciously and texts husband** "This feels like some tornado weather bullshit and I don't trust it." 

I'll have a cup of stress with a side of stress and a refill on the stress.

To say that D and I have been on edge lately would be an understatement. 

The company I work for is moving buildings in the next few weeks and everything seems to be closing in all at once. And it's not just the move that's stressful. It's all of it. The moving, billing, new systems being put into place, end of the year. So on.

SOS. QB. Word. Pdf. I'm literally just naming random acronyms at this point. 

It seems like no matter what I do or how hard I work, I can never catch up and stay that way. There always seems to be something lurking around the corner waiting to pop up and say "hey bitch! you forgot me!" or "hey bitch, you didn't do this correctly!" At this point, nothing surprises me anymore. But, I still got this shit.

Says the woman who lives off coffee, nicotine, and spite.

D started his new Assistant Manager position and he's been training to open this week. Meaning, we've been getting up at five in the morning to ensure that we're both on time for work. I only get up that early to harass him and make his coffee. It's the little things. He's also been picking up a bazillion hours and training new hires.

So yeah, we've both been running on fumes and we're dragging ass and stressed like no other. But you know what? We're not the only ones. I guess chugging along and keep hanging on is the way to go. I mean, we won't be on edge like this forever. Probably.

You know what? We'll play it by ear. Therefore, if you need us, please leave a message after the beep. **BEEP**

Hubba.... Hubba.... Hubby. 😍 (He's so damn.... just.... just damn!) 😍

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, D and I have some of the most random conversations. At this point in our lives neither one of us is surprised by what comes out of the other ones mouth. 

For example, the other night we were messing around and getting ready for bed and out of nowhere, D looks at me and says, "so, I heard a TikTok song on the radio today." To which I replied, "holy shit, was it the Applebee's song?" We then proceeded to have a fifteen minute conversation about how we didn't know it was a legitimate song and how it blew our minds when we figured it out together on the same day.

Followed by looking up the song and listening to it together and discussing how catchy it was.

Like, what?! What is even happening?!! Who in their right mind has an entire conversation (the length of a bedtime routine!) about trendy songs they didn't know were real? Even that sentence doesn't make sense! 

And it didn't even stop there. We still randomly talk about it when we're laying in bed or look at each other with big eyes when it happens to come on the radio. LIKE WE DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS LEGIT AND WE'RE JUST LEARNING IT FOR THE FIRST TIME EVERY SINGLE TIME.

But, you know what? I wouldn't want to share my randomness with anyone else. It's a very freeing feeling when you're so comfortable with yourself and your person that nothing is off limits. D told me one time that he couldn't believe all the things we talk about as a married couple. Things he thought were forever off limits apparently went out the window as soon as we signed that marriage license. Now, nothing is off limits. NOTHING. 

I know that doesn't sound very convincing seeing as I used the "Applebee's song" as my example, but I swear, it gets much more insane and disgusting. The good, the bad, the ugly.... the motherf*cking fugly. The list goes on from there. I'm pretty sure there are times the people around us think to themselves, "would y'all f*cking stop already?! you're too much! we don't want to know all that!" Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that part? We're so used to it being just the two of us (and our pups!) that we sometimes forget when we're around other people and discuss very graphic and/or disgusting things like we're in our own little world. (#mypoorinlaws)

The world of Devon and Katie, where whatever we want together reigns supreme. It's a good world to live in. You know, if you're us. We just hang out in it and adore each other. (And yeah, I know how cringey that sounds).

I'd be lying if I said I didn't love the fact that to my husband I am a wife, best friend, confidant, lover, homie, nurse, auctioneer, lawyer, accountant, surgeon, mama bear, baker, movie critic, hillbilly, hippie, coffee maker, singer, and his love. I love that he thinks I could take over the world and I'm the smartest person he's ever known. I adore the fact that he's convinced I could fight my way through anyone and actually thinks I have my shit together. Even though he literally sees the fact that I don't every single damn day of our lives. He calls me his "beautiful blue-eyed barefoot bandit" and that somehow always makes me melt into a puddle of goo and blush like there's no tomorrow.

Hello everyone, my husband is the ultimate hype man.

A few pieces of aimless nonsense for the day (involving my husband).

With Fall approaching, and me doing my happy dance because of it, we've been decorating and spending more time out on our back porch. Say what you will, but my vampire ass isn't a fan of the heat, sun, or bright lighting in general, so the fact that my husband convinces me to wander out of the cave on occasion is really impressive.

While I was working yesterday, D decided to cut our grass, put out some Fall decorations, make beef jerky and pumpkin seeds, and prep dinner. The man was truly on it and he makes me look like a little bitch on my days off. Seriously, when I have a day off and I'm home by myself, I usually clean the house, do laundry, and make supper, but other than that, my bitch ass tends to not do much else. 

No regrets, motherf*ckers.

I've been really thinking about getting a gym membership. Now, hear me out. I know that I go back and forth quite a bit on things like this, but I think that it may be a good way to get a little healthier and maybe look a bit better. Don't get me wrong, I don't think I look terrible or anything, and my husband assures me that I'm beautiful, but I just feel like if I maybe did something like this, that I would feel much better and in turn, look like I feel better. Does that make sense? Either way, the jury is still out on that one and I'm thinking it through.

Apparently, scary movies are only a weekend thing at our house? Like, I tried to get D to watch one last night and his exact words were, "seriously?! another one!!?! I thought that was only a weekend thing!" Obviously, I have not helped my husband's phobia quite as much as I thought I had and progress is at a minimum. Update to come.

Speaking of my husband, (seriously? when am I not?), I took this picture of him holding our first pumpkin for this year on my lunchbreak yesterday. Isn't he sssoooo adorable? Yeah, and when I got home from work he was completely bald. Like, shaved his whole head and starting from square one again. So much for my Viking braid ideas. He asked if I didn't like him with a shaved head and I informed him that of course I did, I'm just used to seeing him with hair so he's gonna have to give me a minute to adjust to the change. And then I threatened to cut all my hair off and he begged me not to. Ugh, men.

What else? Oh! Another reason for me wanting to get into better shape? A tattoo. I know, I know, that's a dumb reason to do it, but whatever it takes, right? Anyway, I found this shoulder/back tattoo that I really, really want, but I think it would look funny on me if I'm built like I am now (ie: a baby linebacker). Now, I am all for body positivity and loving your true self, but I believe that applies for when you are truly comfortable in your body. I'm not. In all fairness, I never have been, but I'm trying. Who knows. Maybe one of these days I'll just be covered in ink. Why not? As long as I'm happy (and I still get my husbands motor revving), I don't see a reason not to.

How is it only Tuesday? And why am I rambling? Oh yeah, I just wanted to show everyone a picture of D holding our pumpkin.

I want to stay in my cave and hide from the world.

Have you just ever been so very tired of existing? Ok, that sounded a little dramatic. Let me try again. Have you ever been tired of other peoples existence? Nope, still sounds bad. Umm.... ok, I'm just going to go ahead and say it and if it sounds bad, well then, it's just gonna have to sound bad.

Ok, remember like a year and a half ago when everybody was essentially on lockdown and the only reason that we went outside was to go to the grocery store or a medical appointment (or in my case, bikini waxing appointments, because, you know what, never mind, it's a whole thing), something like that? Yeah well, I want to go back to that.

I don't want people sick or hurt, I just want us all to stay in our houses and binge watch shit like Tiger King and Love is Blind. Remember that? Those were good times. I mean, I still worked, but I could do it from my couch in my pajamas while catching a little buzz (don't judge me, it was hard times!) and all was well with the world.

When work was slow or stalled enough for breaks, I could cuddle up with my pups and watch ridiculous shows and we lived off of snack foods and nicotine. Ok, the nicotine was all mine, but you get what I'm trying to say. And what I'm trying to say is, I want to be able to stay in my house with my pups and still be an adult, but an adult with no pants that thrives in her little f*cking cave with her husband and ignores the majority of the rest of the world.

Where is my cave? Well, it's our house. It's all dark and chilly and I can wear sweatpants and hoodies and bake cookies, watch tv, listen to music, do laundry and house chores, hang out with my furbabies, and basically anything I want. It has subtle lighting and a big tv, so if the Governor or somebody wants to let everybody know that it's ok for me to work from home, so I very rarely ever have to leave my cave, I would greatly appreciate it.

So, did that sound ok? To sum it up, I want people happy and healthy, but I don't want to be around them. My body and mind are literally just willing me to be a hermit and I can't just ignore the call of the ocean. Or in this case, the call of my cave.

Sooooo….. I think my tomato plant might be….. yeah….. 😳

I can't hardly grow flowers, but vegetables? I got this.

D and I decided that we would do a small garden this year. I have gardened my entire life and have always found peace in the activity. I don't like doing flowerbeds and find that to be tedious work. However, when it comes to a vegetable garden, I find it calming and I thoroughly enjoy it.

I think it has something to do with reaping the benefits of your hard work that I find so much more appealing about it. Sure, flowers are pretty, but with gardening I can actually feed people and that has always been a major sell for me. Ever since I was a child and we did it for actual survival.

I used to do a garden of some sort every year, but the last couple of years after Momma, I haven't really felt myself and haven't had the urge to do the things I used to always do. I don't know, my life has just felt different. I've felt different.

But, I wanted to get back to doing things that I've always found joy in. Hence, the garden. 

We decided to not do anything too big this year. I think D had reservations about my gardening skills, because as most people know, I can't keep houseplants alive to save my entire life. I have some good flowers in my flowerbeds, but I'm horrible at keeping them weeded and basically my Aunt Mary gave me the easiest and most low maintenance flowers that she had. Not to mention, D got me a very beautiful (and expensive) orchid and I kind of.... killed it. Like, forreal dead as hell not coming back killed it.

It wasn't my fault though, I swear. I mean, COME ON, orchids are one of the hardest flowers to keep alive in general. I had zero to no chance and an even smaller amount of faith in myself that I could do it. And let's just say, that he will not let me live that down to save my entire life. *insert exasperated sigh here*

But dude, did he get a shock when I planted our garden. We got five varieties of tomatoes, two yellow squash, two cucumbers, a mammoth jalapeño, a habanero, a red bell pepper, and an orange bell pepper. I kept telling him that I was way better at vegetables than I was flowers, but ever the doubter, he didn't believe a single word that I said and assumed that he would have to do all the maintaining. 

HA.....Ha.....ha.....HAHAHAHAHAHA.....HA.....HA.....Ha.....

Jokes on him, because my tomato plants have gone insane and are almost as tall as me now. And they are LOADED with the goods. Our pepper plants are taking longer to produce, and while I told D this was normal, he's been on a tirade, because the peppers are all him. While I enjoy eating peppers and spicy food, I do not like being in pain when I eat, so the habaneros especially are all him. 

I'm thinking we're going to have to extend our garden on the front side to have more room to grow out our squash and cucumbers. You know how vines are. And if you don't, get a cucumber plant and learn for yourself, because that shit is real. 

So, if y'all need me, I will be tending to my garden and showing my husband up with my mad gardening skills. Don't worry, he loves it and me and f*cking with each other is a kind of love language to us. Well, more me messing with him than the other way around, but still.

Marriage has made me even stranger than I already was.

D and I made a deal a couple of weeks ago. I say "we" but what I really mean is D came up with a genius idea and since it was mostly in benefit of me, I was all for it.

You see, D hates and I mean absolutely HATES doing the dishes. The man will literally rinse off the dishes and stack them up in the prettiest little piles ranged from size and importance, but WILL NOT actually wash them to save his entire life.

Therefore, a deal was made. He suggested that if he never has to do the dishes then I will never have to do laundry. And, since I was doing both of those things before he suggested that, that meant that he was taking on something that I'll never have to do (even though, I probably will at some point).

This deal has been going on for the last couple of weeks and while it has worked in my benefit somewhat, the fact of the matter is, I have discovered that if I don't put things away myself, I will lose everything. He does a fantastic job, but that doesn't stop me from apparently forgetting where anything in our house is located at 6:00am when I'm running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

This morning for example, I was running late (because I had to actually use all of the force and will in my body to move and get up this morning) and couldn't find any of my underwear to save my entire life. I woke D up and asked him where they could be, but he just said and I quote, "just wear mine, it'll be fine" and he rolled back over and fell back asleep. I thought it was a ridiculous suggestion, because who wears other peoples underwear?

Well, apparently I do now. Because here I stand at work all day wearing my husband's underwear. And frankly, I'm irritated. Why? Because men's underwear are far more comfortable and superior to women's underwear and I can't stop thinking about how much easier life could be if I just always wore my husband's underwear instead of my own.

See?!!?! Marriage has made me f*cking weird. (Well, weirder than I already was, which let's be honest, was already pretty extreme). Eh, I'm good with it.

I went blonde(ish) and now I think I want pink hair.

I've been talking about switching my hair up for quite some time now. Sure, I've chopped it off quite a bit, but now that I'm letting it grow out again I wanted something different.

I'm letting it grow out, because D and I made the agreement that I can't cut my hair (only trims and it isn't allowed past my midback.... my stipulation) and he can't cut his mustache. And let's be honest, momma needs her a good mustache for.... activities. So, here I am letting my hair grow out.

I went last Friday and had blonde put into my hair. I haven't have blonde in my hair since I was around thirteen/fourteen, but I wanted to see if I liked it better now that I'm older and feel less like I need dark hair to match my soul.

I like the blonde, I do.... but, now that I have it I can't help but want to keep going to the extreme and now I think I want.... pink hair. Not insane neon pink hair, but soft pink hair. It may sound strange, but I seriously want to feel like I have cotton candy on my head. 

Hear me out, who doesn't want to feel like a sweet little treat that people are fond of? Come on, even if you don't like sweets, the chances of you having some kind of nostalgic memory of candy floss is highly likely. And even of you don't, you have to admit, it feels nostalgic even just thinking about it.

I just want something.... different, I guess. I'm trying to figure out what works for me and be myself. After the last few years, you could say that I've not really let myself go, but I don't do the things that I used to like to do, because they seemed low on my priority list. But, now, I've been thinking and I think that in order for me to feel normal again, I need to try and do the things that used to be fun to me.

And a big part of that was experimenting with my look. I want to find something that suits me and my personality and just makes me feel more.... me. Call me insane, but with some of the changes that I've made so far, it seems to be bringing me more out of myself and becoming me again.

D has been a big part of helping me throughout all of this craziness and I don't know what I would do without him. And he agrees, if I feel like I need to do something, or I simply want to do something that may help me be happier, then he is all for it. 

So, here I sit, contemplating pink hair.... you know what? F*ck it. I'm making an appointment.

I see some interesting things living in the city.

As most people know (and if you don't, all you have to do is listen to my damn twang), I grew up in the middle of nowhere. I've never liked living in the city and have always found more comfort being in seclusion or "the country." 

Honestly, if I lived in a city bigger than the one I currently live in, I'd probably pull my hair out.... and let's just say, D does not like the thought of me being bald if there's a way around it. Ugh, dudes. I digress.... the point I'm trying to make is, while I would prefer to live in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothingness, I do have to admit that when you live in the city, you see some.... interesting things.

Don't get me wrong, you see plenty of interesting things in the country too, but I feel like I'm just accustomed to those things so they're not necessarily strange to me. Shit I see around here though? Oh, boy.

Yeah, I've watched too much Criminal Minds in my day.

I used to think that my paranoia was on a whole other level. I've been like this my entire life and while I've always been a pretty straight-laced person, the fact that I've had my "wild" moments is forever prevalent in the back of my mind.

Sure, I may not be a criminal in any sense of the word, but I'm also not completely innocent and have done things that while I may not regret (even though we all have regrets) I have done things that have been incredibly stupid.

So, maybe my paranoia comes from a place of deeper meaning. Honestly, I'm not sure. I just know that I have always been on edge and that my delusions of the world around me have always made me extremely aware of the fact that anything can go terribly wrong at any moment.

Maybe that's not a way to live life, but it's the life that I've been living and there's no way to get around it. It also probably doesn't help that I can't stop watching murder/mystery shows and police dramas that constantly have me on the edge of my seat and sanity. 

Eh, you win some, you lose some.

The point I'm trying to make is, even when I'm in my own house or car, I feel the overwhelming urge to still be unsettled. Sure, I'm more comfortable in my own home or car than I am someone else's, but to say that I can let my nerves and hyperawareness placate would be a bold faced lie. I've never been one to not be anxious and I'm constantly in a battle within my own mind to just calm myself and make my anxiety simmer down.

Unfortunately, that is not the mindset that I find myself dealing with on a daily basis, hence the constant checking of my backseat before I get into my car and the questioning stance I have on what lays behind my shower curtain in the bathroom.

What's happened to me since I turned thirty. (Besides getting a husband).

This past February, I turned thirty years old. Effectively leaving my twenties behind me and waving so long to the times of people calling me a "baby" for the simple fact of being around a quarter of a century year old. 

Age has never really been an issue for me. I hate to be one of those cliche people that states "age is just a number" but I honestly don't think it gets more true than that. (Unless you're a grown ass adult trying to date a child in which case you're gross and SHAME ON YOU). I never really put much thought into the age of my friends or people I've dated, even though thinking back on it, they all tended to be older than me? But that could just be the fact that my personality has always been that of an eighty-nine year old man.

I digress.

The fact that I turned thirty never really bothered me. Not when it was approaching or not now that my thirty-first is looming. I just simply do not care. However, with thirty came a few things that I wasn't quite expecting.... mostly medically? You see, I've had my fair share of "health concerns" over my lifetime. Nothing too serious that I haven't been able to handle, but I think like all people, we have those moments.

I've always acted and felt far older than I am, with people often joking that I was fully grown by age nine and other people often telling me that I have what is referred to as an "old soul." I've always been good with all of that, and still am. Like I said, I've just never put alot of thought into it and took pride in the fact that people see beyond my age.

With thirty though? Damn, Gina. Let me tell you:

*Pinched sciatic nerve (left side)
*Achy hip (again, left side)
*Nauseous stomach (no, I'm not pregnant)
*Brittle nails 
*Dizzy/blacking out spells (again, NOT pregnant)

The list truly just goes on and on and honestly, it's kind of a pain in my ass at this point. Well, a pain in my left hip at the very least. Frankly, the only thing that keeps me running is alcohol, nicotine, sarcasm, and caffeine. 

Speaking of running, I've been thinking about trying to get into that, because apparently it can help your old creaky body be less creaky even though it will just keep getting older? Note to self, look into that. (Ha! Like my bitch ass will ever openly and freely exercise.... who do I think I'm kidding?)

I have decided to chop all of my hair off.... again.

I've been letting my hair grow out since last years May in the thought that it would be long enough to "style" for our wedding this coming October. It seemed like a legitimate thought at the time, and to be honest, getting all of your hair chopped off is always risky, because who even knows if the hairdresser is going to f*ck it up or not.

But, as I get older, I enjoy my hair shorter. Actually, I've always switched back and forth on the length of my hair and have ranged from hair to my hips to hair just below my chin. And a couple of years ago, I had my favorite short hairstyle.

D enjoys my hair longer (maybe that's a guy thing?), but has also made the comment, "you're the one who has to deal with it and wear it, so you do whatever your little heart desires." (He knew that I was going to do whatever I want anyways).

I've been debating on this for awhile, but have always waivered, because I can't find the woman who originally gave me my favorite haircut and I was worried somebody else would f*ck up my life. Insert Dani. I was explaining all of this to her last week and she gave me the number to her hair gal. After about an hour of going back and forth, I text the woman and set up an appointment for this Thursday. And I think.... I'm just going to have her chop it all off.

I haven't told anybody about this other than Dani, and I'm just going to surprise D when he gets home on Thursday. Like, surprise honey! I chopped all of my hair off, BUT at least I didn't do it myself in the bathroom.... again! I guess we'll see if this is a good idea or not. *fingers crossed*