so two months later

two months i have been working at a daycare. i've had pink eye and a stomach virus that caused me to vomit so hard, fast, and furiously for an entire day that i injured my back. i've laughed til i've cried, dried many more tears from small people, and solidified my belief in the notion that each day is what you choose for it to be. you have to want to be happy to be happy. now if i could just get a few of my charges to realize that.

i bought a new car, finally. went back to hyundai since the last one lasted through so much wear and tear. and they are affordable. i hate that i couldn't afford an american car with the state of our auto industry, but so it goes. i am loving my car and the new car smell.

my darling boy has come leaps and bounds ahead of where he was socially and with his speech/communication before he started attending day care. he uses rough sentences now. he says stuff for no reason. he is more creative and outgoing. he loves his teacher and i think she is an awesome person. watching her with the kids makes me so comfortable that my boy if my boy isn't spending his days with me, it's with her.

things are still up in the air with my husband's job. i am sick and tired of the stress and worry related to it. either his whole district office wills hut down or it won't. things may start getting better soon, or they could fall apart tragically without a second's notice. either way, there is nothing we can do but hope for the best and be prepared for the worst. it sucks but we will get through somehow.

the new job

last wednesday, a day care where i had applied for a job called me and scheduled an interview. last thursday i went in to interview and last friday i was hired. the following monday i went to work.

i had forgotten what working with a large bunch of kids was realy like. it's been ten years. this week has provided many laughs and "oh my god, what the fuck have i gotten myself into?" moments. it's exhausting but tons of fun.

and the boy has survived his week there as well. barely.

so i was reading another blog somewhere...

what annoys me right now is that i can't remember what blog it was or even how long ago it was.

anyhow the blogger posted an entry about first kisses and for some reason i was cruising down the road today between civilization and the hick sticks, it popped into my head. and i started thinking about all of the first kisses i've had.

there are experiences that were sweet and tender and others that just make me want to deny they ever happened because they were so terrible. some had the potential to be seriously hot and they fizzled and others were exactly the opposite.

the worst first kiss with a guy was with one i will call the rat bastard or RB for short. looking back, this kiss should have been the red flag to stop me from ever getting involved with him in the first place but hindsight is always 20/20, huh? i ended up dating the RB for over 4 years. what made it so bad?

we had been on a couple of dates and we were out driving around my hometown looking for something to do or someplace to hang out. i suggested we go and climb the fence and wander around the golf course. it was a nice night and there wouldn't be anyone else around like if we were to just go and sit in a park or something. so we trespass our preppy little butts over the fence and we found a bench on the golf course and we sat and talked. then, out of the blue this dumbass fucking moron gets this completely smug shit-eating grin on his face and says "i guess this is the total mack stage now, huh?" and proceeds to attempt to devour my face. what a tool. it gives me the heebie jeebies just thinking about it. i attribute my sticking around to being extremely young and lacking in any sort of self confidence. it was nice being the object of his affection at the time.

some of the finest first kisses ever were when they took me totally by surprise. i wasn't expecting them and they just happened, perfectly. and the very best first kiss ever... i thought it was coming on a wednesday night and it did not. and i felt like a gigantic ass for reading the wrong thing into his behavior. there was another date on friday night and i was very nonchalant about it. i had given up on it and figured this guy and i might just be friends. and he brought me home after that date and i reached up to hug him. he leaned in to kiss me goodnight and 45 minutes later were still standing in my doorway smooching. this one turned out wonderfully, by the way... i just kissed him goodnight a couple of hours ago.

the funniest first kiss memory i have is one that still get teased about and it was in 1996. a friend and i were in mexico having a girls' weekend and we met up with some guys that happened to be from our hometown and so we talked for a while and some alcohol was involved. somehow we paired off and it was decided that we were all headed for the beach. being young and slightly tipsy, i insisted on briging a bigass flashlight because it was dark out. i don't know what i thought a walk on the beach involved at that time but let me just say that a flashlight was not really necessary.

do you specifically remember any of your first kisses? anything noteworthy? and does anyone happen to know what blog gave me this idea?

fuck it. let's go to the pocket

after a long stressful week, you can bet that somebody in this house will be uttering the above sentiment.

i live in a semi-dry county. you can buy beer and wine at the grocery store but no hard liquor. we have a Chili's here and to buy beer or any hard hooch you have to purchase what is called a UNICARD for three bucks. you can drink yourself to death if you give them your three dollars first and sign your name on the paper card.

the last time i was at Chili's drinking, i came home and woke up the next morning to find three forks in my purse. i also remembered our table trying to chit chat with the waitress and we mentioned that she might have 'slipped my brother a mickey' in his beer and she had no early idea what that meant. sigh... i vowed then and there to never drink there again. how on earth did three forks get into my purse?

we also have The Empty Pocket. it's lovingly called the pocket. the pocket is considered a private club because you buy a membership. for eleven smackaroonies a year you become a member. the pocket is one of those little crap-ass ugly as all hell from the outside (and the inside) falling apart buildings. however, it's the type of place where all sorts can come in and drink and get along for the most part. Toby Keith sings about a bar where rednecks, bikers, yuppies, and everything in between come in and fit in. that's our pocket.

there are no two tables or chairs the same in the pocket. a handful of the tables have rolling desk chairs. why are there rolling chairs in a bar with uneven floors and drunks? the last time i was in the pocket i was rolled from one end of the bar to the other by a guy i had only met once before who thought that was the way to get me to get up and dance with him. i'm a sucker, it worked. of course he did roll me right up to the dance floor and after a few drinks i forgot that i totally suck at anything involving music or rhythm.

the first few times i was in the pocket i felt out of place and like it was a place to pity. however, as time has gone on it's grown on me. it's comfortable and fun. it's cheap beer and waitresses that smile and call everyone darlin' and sweetie but still don't take any shit from anyone.

Chili's bar? not so much. who cares if they have food there and the pocket doesn't? at least random pieces of silverware don't mysteriously find their way into my purse at the pocket.

the coma-inducing couch

we have a couch and a loveseat. they are extremely comfortable, not so hot in the aesthetics department but they are just delightful to decline on.

i woke up around my normal time this morning. i drank my coffee, i wrote checks to pay our mid-month bills, and i did my Wii-fit workout. i took my shower and started getting lunch stuff ready for the ball crew. i ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and suddenly it was like i had been drugged.

my body literally ached for sleep. i felt drunk and as if i had been awake for days. my eyes needed to close. i got the kiddo down for his nap and i collapsed onto the couch.

nearly every night my husband comes home from work and at some point in the evening he sits on the couch and passes out watching whatever dumb man show he pretends that he will see. we joke about the cough being treated with some sort of drugs that cause deep heavy sleep to come on quickly and stealthily.

i wasn't on the couch for 30 seconds before i was out cold. i slept like a log for two hours until the phone rang and woke me up. it was my idiot-in-law on the other end which pissed me off, but that's a different story for a different time. my husband says that while i slept, he attempted to wake me and talk to me once to tell me he was running into town. he also had the tv off and on a couple of times and it started thundering and pouring rain outside. and i slept through it all.

i feel like a million bucks now. wish i could nap like this every day. actually, better yet, i wish i could sleep like this every night. maybe i should just put myself to bed on the couch every night or i could start nosing around the black market and seeing if i can't find myself some ruffies.

the creepiest thing

i was up 4:40 this morning with a crying kid. he went back down quickly but then my husband's alarms (yes, alarmS. it takes many to get him up) were going off at 5:00. i laid in bed til about 5:20 and decided to hell with it, i'd get up and have my coffee.

so at about 5:23, before the haze has even considered lifting off my brain i was watching the morning news. and on comes on of a series of the most irritating and creepy commercials on tv right now. Qatar Airways.

are they trying to seduce you or sell you a seat on a plane? jeezus. that voice gave me the heebie jeebies at dark thirty in the morning and the extreme close up of the flight attendant's face at the end was too much.

and this is what makes me laugh

as we were leaving the library today, my old pals the librarians asked sasquatch if he wanted a prize. a prize for what? i don't know because he has had one hell of a week.

the library staff had their boxes of prizes out getting them ready for the upcoming summer reading program. most of the crap in the boxes is just that - cheapo plastic crap. so for ten minutes of more sasquatch paws through the boxes, picks stuff up and drops it back in. apparently he thinks he is just supposed to look at this junk and he isn't getting that they want him to take a piece of it off their hands.

he plays with noise making things. he plays with tiny rubber ducks, he plays with imitation hot wheels, he plays with finger puppets. and then he uncovered the prize of all prizes. we found, and by we i mean ME, a hard rubber white tiger that is about the size of my hand.

that's it? that's the ultimate prize? yeah. yeah it is because as soon as i saw that bad boy i snatched it up and shoved it into the side of my neck and said "look! who am i?" and then i proceeded to laugh. a lot.

sad, huh? so now i am sitting here waiting for my husband to get home from work so i can do my best Roy and the White Tiger Attack impression for him too. oh boy.

and, back to sasquatch. he hates the tiger toy. he apparently never did understand that he could pick out and take home one of those toys at the library so he didn't care that momma got a tiger and he didn't get anything. he doesn't like the tiger, doesn't want to play with the tiger and doesn't even want to look at it. fine by me.